#nancy you found a magic book and this is what you did with it?

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

The Truth of the Matter

A Four Part Miniseries

@wonderland-girl143-blog @gregre369 @420-hun

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Steve, Robin, Nancy, and Chrissy stood in Steve's living room watching Eddie. He was sitting cross-legged on the coffee table pouring over his spellbook, his tongue poking out.

"You know, I have perfectly good couches," Steve said, crossing his arms, and Eddie hummed without looking at him. "He's lucky he's so cute."

"Okay. . .okay, it sounds like this spell is going to be difficult, especially with all of us, and it says I need to be. . .stronger for this. Fuck, I have to be a certain level? Well, what fucking level am I?" Eddie asked. "And how do I gain experience? More spells? You know, whoever wrote this book should have had this damn thing coded. You know, write in the margins which ones are for beginners."

"Well, considering the few spells that you have done, I think you're very much still a beginner," Robin said.

"If this is too much, we can wait. . .save up money. . . Buy plane tickets," Steve said.

"Baby, we're going to see this through, and your mother's waited long enough. . .you're worth it, Steve Harrington. . .now, shut up, I'm thinking," Eddie said.

"Oh, oh! I think I remember your father mentioning something about using magical creatures like conduits," Chrissy said.

"Yeah, no, I'm not using either one of you like that. And if my father suggested it, then I'm definitely not going to do it," Eddie scoffed.

"Well, what if we want to do it?" Steve asked.

"I can do the spell myself," he replied.

"Yeah, but it doesn't mean you should," he said.

"How in the hell is this relationship supposed to work if we're both equally stubborn?" Eddie asked with a scowl.

"Well, if we're both determined enough, we'll make it work," Steve replied.

"Eddie, it sounds like we both want to do this," Chrissy said softly.

"Are you sure?" Nancy asked.

"Very," Chrissy said, and Nancy smiled. "I want to do everything that I can to help Steve find his mom or dad. Not just because we're both fae but because it's the right thing to do."

"Thanks, Chrissy," Steve said softly and then paused. "Wait, what do you mean, mom or dad? My dad's dead, remember?"

"Oh. Did I not mention?" Chrissy asked with a frown.

"Mention what?" He asked.

"Fae can have children with anyone regardless of their gender. I had two mothers," Chrissy replied. "And some fae are what they themselves call genderfluid. . .depending on what they feel like. So, this person could be your mother, father, or both. Being transgender and queer is also more commonly accepted amongst fae. It's because of their beliefs that the fae had to remain hidden in the shadows, hiding with their illusion and glamor magic. They would come out of the shadows to help lost humans, whether they be fae, humans, or Wiccans, especially if they're children and rejected by their community because of who they love."

"Wow," Steve breathed. "Okay, so you know a lot more than I do."

"Do the fae have like their own city or country I could move to?" Robin asked.

"I don't know. If they do, it's probably hidden," Chrissy said. "There wasn't much in my mother's journal."

"Okay, let's do this shit. . .let's go find this Steve’s mommy or daddy. . .even more so now. Although, I suddenly realized that I'm going to be meeting my boyfriend's parent for the first time, and I hadn't even taken him on a date yet," Eddie said.

"And I just found out that my girlfriend neglected to tell me that she could get me pregnant," Nancy said.

"Oh! I'm so sorry! It slipped my mind. . .I was going to tell you, and then this happened," Chrissy said, looking guilty. "And besides, we can only get each other pregnant if we both wanted to. . .no accidents!"

"I figured you were going to say something like that when Mike barged into the house," Nancy said, wrapping an arm around her waist. "I'm messing with you, baby."

"I can get Steve pregnant!" Eddie yelped.

"Down boy, buy me dinner first," Steve said dryly.

"Okay, let's get to Lenora Hills before I get completely distracted," Eddie said. "Nancy, focus, and then we can study fae anatomy later. . ."

"I'm so getting a better grade than you," Nancy smirked, and Chrissy giggled.

"Fuck off, Wheeler!"

Lenora Hills, California. . .

"Fuck!" Eddie screamed.

He dropped Steve and Chrissy's hands immediately as he fell to his knees. Eddie bent over and began to make retching sounds. Steve pulled his hair back just as he vomited. He wiped Eddie's face with a tissue Chrissy gave him and helped him stand up. Eddie's whole body shuddered, and Steve wrapped his arms around him to hold him up. Steve watched as the other man's eyes turned purple.

"Eddie?" Steve asked.

"Is anyone else hearing music?" Eddie asked as blood gushed from his nose. "Did I just gain another level? Hmm, maybe it's something I ate."

Eddie's fading purple eyes rolled back into his head, and he collapsed into Steve’s arms. Steve picked him and held him close.

"I don't want to be a bummer, but I think Eddie missed by a few blocks," Robin said.

"Well, it was his first time performing the spell," Steve said. "Let's go."

They finally found the house they were looking for, and when they did, they discovered that the front door had been left wide open. Someone had clearly left in a hurry. When they entered, they found it in a stay of disarray, like someone had packed quickly. It was similar to the one in Indianapolis, except the furniture had been left behind. Drawers were opened and emptied. . .papers and takeout menus were littering the floor. Someone had clearly lived here a while, but it looked as though someone had left recently. Steve hurried to lay Eddie on the couch for a moment. He cleaned his face and listened closely to make sure he was just sleeping. He was.

"Is he okay?" Nancy asked.

"Yeah, just sleeping. That spell took a lot out of him," Steve replied. "Let him sleep, and we can look around. Maybe whoever left here is going to come back."

Of course, they searched the house for hours and came up with nothing. Robin, Nancy, and Chrissy let Eddie have the bedroom in the back, considering he drained his batteries getting them all to California. He laid Eddie on the bed and sprawled out next to him. He watched the man snore loudly before flopping onto his stomach. Steve ran his hand over his back, smiling when Eddie sighed in his sleep. He laid down on the pillow, wondering if his parent had laid their head on this very pillow. Steve closed his eyes and went to sleep.

Steve was dreaming. He was sure of it. He felt smaller than usual, and he was lying in a . . . Cage? No, a crib. He was a baby, and he was looking up at his mobile made of stars. A face appeared above him. It was a younger, fresher faced Bob Newby. He had hazel eyes just like Steve.

"He's made of stars just like you," Bob said proudly.

"Freckles and moles, my love," a garble voice said.

"Stars, stars to guide his way back to us," Bob said softly.

"He's not going to be like the others, I won't allow it," the voice said.

"There's more of them than there are of us," Bob said sadly. "It's happening more and more lately."

"Bobby. . ."

Wait, was his other parent British? Steve tried to reach for them as they moved closer to the crib.

"I'm right here," Steve tried to call out. "I'm right here!"

When he woke up, Eddie was staring at him.

"Hey, you feeling any better?" Steve asked as he immediately sat up.

"A little, but I don't think I'm at full power yet," Eddie said. "I'm fucking hungry."

"Yeah, okay, we get out of here, and we can find something to eat," Steve said.

"Just a moment," Eddie yawned.

He pulled Steve closer to him and nuzzled his neck. Eddie pressed his lips there, peppering his soft skin with tiny kisses. Steve sighed for a moment and leaned into it. He rolled over onto his side to face Eddie.

"Why are you going through all this trouble? I mean, I know you care about me, but we barely started whatever this is, and you're nearly killing yourself to help me," he said.

"I don't know. . .I mean, I guess it's because of the assumptions I made about you but also because I would give anything. . .chase any lead that gives me any hope that my mama's alive and looking for me. She's not, though. She's been dead for a long time. I can't do it for myself, but I can do it for you," Eddie replied.

Steve wrapped his arm around him, pulled him closer, and kissed him deeply. He poured every ounce of affection he had for the man into that kiss. He broke away and leaned his forehead against his.

"Come on, let's see what the girls are up to," Steve said.

They wandered into the kitchen to find Nancy, Chrissy, and Robin leaning over a phone book.

"Eddie!" Chrissy exclaimed. "How are you doing?"

"Better once I get some food in me," Eddie said.

"Well, we were actually going to order something. I was thinking pizza. Laura never lets me have any," Chrissy said.

"Pizza sounds fucking awesome," Eddie exclaimed.

As they waited for the pizza to arrive, they sat in the living room to discuss their options. Eddie still needed to recharge and get some food in him before doing any sort of spells. In the meantime, they wait it out here and see if the person comes back. Steve was trying not to get his hopes up, but the closer they got to find his parent, the more hopeful he got. Robin leaned over the arm rest of the couch. Nancy, Chrissy, and Eddie were talking amongst themselves.

"You doing okay?" Robin asked.

"Trying to keep it all in, you know?" Steve said and paused. "I had a dream about my dad, about Bob. I think it was a memory. I couldn't see my other parent, but I know they were British, and Bob said I was made of stars like them. They have moles like me. . .what else did I get from them? Will I ever see them again? Do they know what happened to Bob?"

"I'm sure that you'll find your way back to each other," Robin said.

"That's what Dad said. . .that my stars would guide my way back to them," Steve said. "It was happening to so many fae children. . . They knew it was going to happen to them."

"You're going to find each other," Robin said softly.

Before Steve could say anything else, the doorbell rang. Nancy went to answer it but paused when they heard arguing coming from the other side. Steve shared a look with Nancy.

"Is that Jonathan?" Steve asked.

"I didn't even think about it," Nancy laughed quietly. "I ordered from Surfer Boy."

"Argyle! What are the odds that my ex-girlfriend is here in Lenora Hills while my current boyfriend is the one delivering her pizzas?" they heard Jonathan yell. "It is not the same Nancy Wheeler. She's still in Hawkins."

"Man, fate has a funny way of bringing people together!" Argyle laughed loudly.

Nancy covered her giggle with her hand and went to answer the door, but Chrissy stopped her. Chrissy pulled the front door open and grinned.

"Hi, I'm Nancy Wheeler," she laughed.

"Oh, shit, man, you were right," Argyle said.

"No. . .that's Chrissy Cunningham. She goes to Hawkins High," Jonathan said.

"Oh, what are the odds?" He asked, and Jonathan elbowed him in the side.

Nancy nudged Chrissy out of the way and appeared in the doorway.

"Nancy?!" Jonathan asked.

"Hey, Jonathan," Nancy said meekly.

"What are you doing here?" He asked.

"It's a long story," Nancy said. "And I'll tell you later, I promise."

Jonathan looked at her doubtfully and then looked at Argyle before sighing. He knew that something strange was up, but he couldn't say it in front of Argyle. He accepted their tip and dragged Argyle back to the yellow van, leaving them with their pizzas. Once they ate, Eddie took a nap, and when he awoke again, he started to work on doing the location spell again. Eddie looked down at the paper and made a disgruntled sound with his mouth.

"What?" Steve asked.

"It says Hawkins, but it doesn't give me an address. . .just a bunch of random letters and numbers. It's like someone doesn't want us to know. . .hm, maybe there's a spell preventing us from knowing," Eddie said.

"Well, people place runes on the fae children to prevent the parents from finding them. Maybe they put runes on their houses too," Chrissy said.

"Shit, maybe it's my house or rather the Harringtons," Steve scoffed.

"Well, the only thing left to do is to check it out," Eddie said. "I'll start preparing the spell to travel back to Hawkins."

"Eddie, are you sure you're well enough for that?" Steve asked.

Eddie smiled. He cupped Steve’s face and pressed a hard kiss to his lips before he leaned his forehead against his.

"I'm fine, big boy."

Once they were in Hawkins, Eddie once again vomited and collapsed. They were just outside of Steve’s house. Steve picked him up and carried him into the house. Eddie's eyes fluttered open, and he groaned as he tried to sit up.

"Eddie!" Steve exclaimed. "You should be resting."

"I don't want to miss this," Eddie said sleepily, wiping the blood from under his nose.

Before Steve could say anything else, they heard a figure coming from upstairs. Everyone downstairs tensed up, preparing for a fight. A woman entered the room. Her hair was long and carmel colored with warm golden highlights like Steve’s with moles scattered across her tan skin. She had Steve’s nose and his lips, but her eyes were a bright blue. Her flowered colored dress was as blue as her eyes.

"You're my mom," Steve gasped.

"Today, anyway," she smiled Steve’s smile.

Steve ran into her arms without even thinking. She hugged him tightly, sobbing. This felt right. . .her hug held more warmth than the hugs he received from the Harringtons, theirs being nothing more than cold detachment. His mother's hug felt like home. He could feel her now, too, in the back of his mind. There were so many emotions going through his head, and there was one question that was on his forefront of his mind. He pulled back, tears in his eyes.

"I don't even know your name," Steve said.

"Farran Kelley," she laughed, tears in her own eyes, and she tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. "Oh, you have your father's eyes."

"Yours too," Steve grinned as he felt his eyes glow green.

Farran laughed as her eyes glowed green as well.

"Your father was a fairy too, you know," she chuckled, and her smile dropped. "He should be here. . ."

"I'm sorry. . .I was there. . . I mean, I didn't watch him die, but I was in the middle of all of it," Steve frowned.

"Well, we warned the humans for years about meddling with that world. . .if I had known you were in the middle of all of it. . .I missed so much," Farran said sadly. "You're so grown."

"There's so much left to teach me. I still don't know everything there is to know about being a fairy," Steve said.

"Oh, so many wonderful things," Farran said and cupped his face. "My sweet boy. . .however, did you get that rune removed?"

"That was me!" Eddie exclaimed, waving from his spot on the couch.

Farran peered around Steve with a grin. Steve moved beside Eddie, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Mom, this is - "

"Eddie, my God, you've grown so much!" Farran said delightfully. "I haven't seen you since you were an ankle biter."

"You know me!" Eddie exclaimed.

"I was mates with your mum," Farran said.

"You were at her funeral!" He realized. "If you were friends with my mom, then why would my dad. . .I know he's an asshole. . ."

"So, you figured out that he was the one who kidnapped my son?" She asked.

"Well, I had to remove the rune that was on his back, and I had to be blood related, so. . .and kidnapping fae children is the kind of shit my dad would do," Eddie scowled.

He sat all the way up, and Farran sat down next to him.

"Your father loved your mother very much. She was the only person in the world who could make him cut all his bullshit but even though he loved her. . .he still didn't treat her very well. He left her all the time, and I was there for her when she had all those miscarriages. She had complications when she gave birth to you, and after that, it was harder to get pregnant. I did what I could being a fae healer, but not even magic has the answers to everything. It's something your father could never understand. Lizzie and I became close when she got to town. I was there when Al refused to be. That's what really drove him mad. He couldn't forgive himself for it. When I became pregnant, Lizzie became so excited. She hoped our children would be friends. A few months after we had you, Steve was taken from us. I didn't believe it at the time that Al had anything to do with, but his jealousy had been too obvious over the years. He always thought there was something between Lizzie and I, but she had become enamored with someone else. Even though Bobby and I split up, my heart always belonged to him," Farran said.

"My father's a dick," Eddie spat, and then his furious face fell. "Is there anything redeemable about my dad?"

"There's a part of me that still hopes that his love for Lizzie, for you, and Wayne will wake him up, but the rational part of me knows that will probably never happen. You know that you look like him, but I always knew that you got your heart from your mother even when you were a child," Farran said. "It's not wrong to hope that your father might do the right thing by you or the right thing, period."

"It's a small world, isn't it? You were best friends with my mother, and now I'm dating your son," Eddie laughed, and then he slapped a hand over his mouth. "I've gotten a little too comfortable."

"It's alright," Steve grinned.

"Oh! That's wonderful," Farran gasped. "Oh, Lizzie would be so happy!"

"Don't get too excited, mom. It's only been - wait, what day is it?" Steve asked and paused. "Eddie's only recently found out he's a witch, but he's the reason we found each other at all. He's exhausted himself so much to do it."

"Definitely Elizabeth's son," Farran said fondly. "Oh, sweetheart, you look exhausted. We should probably get back to my house. Steve, we should probably get you back to our house."

"We have a house?" Steve asked.

"Well, your father's family home. It's nestled out in the woods," Farran said. "You and your friends are more than welcome to come with us."

"OH! Mom, these are my friends. Well, Nancy's my ex-girlfriend, but now she's one of my best friends," Steve said, and Nancy smiled softly at him. "This is Chrissy. She's also a kidnapped fae child."

"If you don't mind, how did you know Steve’s name?" Nancy asked. "Didn't he have a different one?"

"No, Steve is the name we gave him. It was my father's. I guess the Harringtons were too lazy to change it," she replied, scowling.

"Oh! And this is my best friend in the whole world, my platonic soulmate, Robin Buckley," Steve grinned.

"Hi, Steve’s mom!" Robin exclaimed, hitting his chest. "I told you would find each other, dingus!"

Farran laughed and hugged her tightly.

"So, we're going to your house then?" Eddie asked.

"Steve, is there anything that you want to bring?" Farran asked.

"Oh, I've been wanting to leave for a while now. What I need is already packed," Steve grinned and ran up the stairs.

He came back downstairs with his hands carrying two large suitcases. He had the largest grin on his face. Farran helped Eddie up while Chrissy did the same on his other side as Farran promised Chrissy that she would teach her all about being a fae.

"How are we getting there?" Eddie asked.

"By car," Farran said. "Why? Did you think I had a carriage being pulled by unicorns?"

"Well, now I don't," Eddie scoffed, looking disappointed.

"Unicorns live in Scotland," Farran replied with a laugh. "And are a protected species."

"They're real," Eddie gasped with delight.

Steve laughed as he followed them to the front door. He walked out the front door with them, leaving the name Harrington behind. The name Newby-Kelley slid back into place. He was going home.

Months later. . .After the spring break from hell. . .

Steve stumbled through the trees, clutching his sides. Despite all the medicines Farran used on his son, the bites still hurt.

"It's just up ahead," Steve said.

"So, why did you move?" Hopper asked.

"It's my family home," Steve said.

"Figures John Harrington has more than one home in Hawkins," Hopper snorted.

"John Harrington isn't my father," he sighed. "He never was. Him and his wife hired someone to kidnap me. This is my real family home."

"Jesus," Joyce said.

"It's okay. I found my parents. I mean, my father is dead, but my other father, who is also sometimes my mother, is very much alive and is waiting for us," Steve said.

"I'm lost," Hopper said.

"No, it's just up ahead," he replied.

"That's not what I - "

It was a spacious four bedroom cottage type house in the woods with a stone pathway leading up the front door. Vines covered the house, sealing over every opening as though they were protecting it. There were vines sprouting around the house like a bubble as well. Steve approached the vines, and his eyes glowed green. The vines moved to create a doorway for them.

"What the hell?" Jonathan asked. "Hey, does this have anything to do with you guys being in Lenora a few months ago?"

"You were in Lenora?" Joyce asked.

"We were tracking down my father," Steve said. "We had to come back to Hawkins, though, because he had been tracking me too and tracked my last location to the Harringtons. He was my mother then."

"I'm lost again," Hopper said.

"Man, we're here," Steve said. "How are you getting lost? You're right behind me."

Hopper sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Joyce laughed and patted his arm.

"I think he doesn't understand about your parent being both your mother and your father," Joyce said.

"Oh! Some faes can change their gender if they wish. Today, Farran Kelley is a man," Steve said. "He's been my father the last few weeks."

"Faes. . .as in fairies?" Will asked.

"Oh, yeah, I'm not human," Steve grinned. "Let's get inside, and we can talk about this."

They went inside the brick house where they were led into an open space living room and kitchen. On the other end of the house was a fireplace where a cool, blue fire crackled. The walls were lined with shelves, and the shelves were stuffed with books. Pictures hung on the walls very neatly. Sitting on the couch in front of the fire was Nancy. Robin and Vickie sat on either side of her, rubbing her back as she cried. Steve felt his chest tighten painfully. Mike pushed his way through the group and ran towards his sister. Farran came down the stairs with Dustin. It always startled Steve to see how much Farran looked like him as a man. It was a good thing, though.

"Holy shit, is that a picture of Bob?" Jonathan said as he glanced at a picture on the wall.

"It is," Joyce said. "Why do you have a picture of Bob?"

"He was my husband," Farran said. "And this was his family home."

"Bob never said he was married," Joyce said, frowning.

"Divorced. We split after Steve was taken from us," Farran said.

"Steve is Bob's son?!" Will asked.

"He never said. . . ," Joyce trailed off. "Actually, he said he didn't have kids he was aware of."

"Steve was kidnapped and hidden from us by wiccan magic. We searched for years, and then Bob stayed here, waiting for him to come home, never knowing he was right in front of us," Farran said softly.

"He does have Bob's eyes," she said as she smiled at the both of them.

"I'm glad Bobby had love in his life before he died," Farran said, patting her hand.

"Okay, tell us everything from the beginning," Hopper sighed.

Farran shared a look with his son before launching into the story.

". . . And we did everything we could, but Vecna overpowered us," Farran said.

"Eddie. . .," Steve choked. "He and Chrissy. . .they died."

Suddenly, everything was hurting. Eddie wouldn't be here anymore. Steve wouldn't wake up next to him. . .no more dinners with Farran, Wayne, and Eddie. It would he a somber affair now with a piece of their family missing. No Chrissy coming in with Nancy to join them. No more double dating with Nancy and Chrissy. No double wedding under fae law. They were supposed to travel to Saoradh, the hidden land of the fae, this summer. Not to get married yet (that was far off) but to view the beautiful land and all it had to offer. Chrissy and Steve were supposed to learn more about their magic, their ancestors. Now, Chrissy was gone, and so was Eddie. Eddie.

"I'm so sorry," Joyce said softly.

Steve glanced at Nancy, who was hugging Jonathan tightly. Argyle stood somberly off to the side. Nancy pulled away and shared a glance with Steve. They moved towards each other. Nancy threw her arm around Steve, still crying. Steve sniffled and wrapped his arms around Nancy. What was going to happen now?

"I am here now," El said. "And I am stronger than ever. I believe together we can destroy Henry."

Meanwhile, in the Upside Down. . .

A figure jumped down into the gate from the Munsons' trailer. The hooded figure moved outside and glanced at the red sky filled with lightning. He pulled the hood down. Al Munson moved through the Upside Down, not stopping until he came to his son's body. He fell to his knees and placed his hands on Eddie's cold forehead.

"I've fucked up, son. I've done everything wrong, and I let my anger get the best of me. I wasn't there for your mom, not the way I should have, and I spent so much time blaming other people. You shouldn't have had to pay for my mistakes. There's one thing that I did right, and that was bringing you into this world with your mom. There's one other thing that I could do, and that's bringing you back. . . I still have time. It's going to take everything that I've got," Al said. "I love you."

Al cut up his son's shirt and began painting runes on his chest. Al took off his shirt before painting the same rune on his chest. He opened his spellbook and began chanting. Al felt his lifeforce begin to flow out of him, purple light floating from his chest. With the spell, Al told it where to go. The light began to pour into Eddie's rune. The last bit of light escaped Al's body and went into his son's. He collapsed on the ground, and as he took his last breath, Eddie gasped for his. Eddie awoke, clutching his chest. Shit, didn't the bats eat him alive? There were no wounds. . .only purple scars. Eddie turned his head to find his father's lifeless eyes staring back at him.

"Dad?" Eddie asked and knelt over him. "Dad?!"

Eddie sobbed. He already knew what Al did for him. . .but why? Why?! Eddie hated him for so many reasons, but now he was grateful to him. It was twice now that this man gave him life. Eddie sat up and took his dad's hand only to discover there was a note in his palm.

"I know sorry isn't going to be enough for how much I fucked up. I let you down so many times. Let Lizzie down. If you've discovered what I've done. . .no apology is ever going to be good enough to make up for what I did to those kids. On this paper, there is a list of names. Kids I sold, witches who have also sold kids. . Do with it what you will. You're already a better man than I am. . .I love you, kid. I know wherever your mom is. She's proud of you. Your story isn't over yet."

A couple of hours later. . .

Everyone stood their ground in the woods. Steve was fighting off the demogorgons and the demobats. His father was fighting beside him. Red lightning flashed over head. Steve held his nailbat, his eyes glowing green as emerald flames erupted around his bat. He swung the bat and hit a demogorgon. It whimpered as it hit the tree and exploded into green flames. More demogorgons came out from the trees, ready to pounce. The party was surrounded. The demogorgons launched themselves into the air.

"ENOUGH!" Henry's voice rang out.

They all heard him but they couldn't see him. The demogorgons paused, standing before them and waiting for their next orders. Steve scanned the treelines for any sign of the bastard. Silence fell as the party gathered together in a circle, back to back. Dustin was one side of him while Farran was on the other. Suddenly, they heard footsteps move closer, the snapping of branches echoing throughout the forest. She appeared, her eyes red and her smile menacing.

"Chrissy," Nancy gasped.

Fred followed after her, then came Patrick, and finally, Max.

"Max," Lucas gasped and moved to get to her, but Nancy grabbed his arm.

"Let me introduce you to my wonderful puppets. . .why would I kill them when I can use them for their power? Oh, I would have gotten to you too, Steve. . .if it hadn't been for Eddie. . .I had to do away with him - "

Suddenly, Henry was cut off by the sound of music. . .specifically the strumming of a guitar. Purple smoke, flashing with light, started to spill through the trees.

"What the fuck?" Will asked.

The purple smoke surrounded Chrissy, Fred, Patrick, and Max. Amongst the smoke, their eyes turned a bright, furious green. The smoke swirled around the bats and the demogorgons as well.

"NO! NO! NO!" Henry screamed as he appeared through the smoke. "WHAT IS THIS?!"

A shadowy figure appeared and started moving towards them. The music got louder and louder until a person appeared carrying a guitar covered in runes. Steve grinned at the familiar guitar and at the ring covered hands playing them. He recognized those hands. He came out of the smoke like a god, his eyes a furious purple and his grin feral. He was shirtless and covered in runes.

"Eddie," Steve gasped.

Eddie grinned and began to sing his spells. He was an angel and devil. Both menacing and beautiful. Steve was ready to get down on his knees for Eddie right then and there. The demogorgons and the demobats turned on Henry. Chrissy, Fred, Patrick, and Max all turned on him as well.

"NO! YOU'RE SUPPOSE TO BE MINE!" Henry screamed.

"We belong to no one," Chrissy said.

Her hands lit up with green flames. She Fred's then Fred took Patrick's, and then Patrick took Max's. All their hands glowed with a bright green flame, and they shot out at Henry. The green flames encircled him, and he screamed as they began licking at him, burning his flesh. The demogorgons growled and dove into the flames along with the demobats. They all began tearing at his flesh, not caring that they were dying in the process. They all watched the flames until everything died out. Henry Creel was dead. The purple smoke was gone now, and the skies had cleared. Lucas rushed to Max immediately, hugging her tightly. Max crashed her lips to his. Nancy ran to Chrissy and immediately jumped into her arms, wrapping her legs around her waist. She kissed Chrissy deeply, shaking with sobs. Chrissy gripped Nancy's thigh and pressed her up against a tree to steady her. Steve stood and stared at Eddie in shock. The runes disappeared from him and his guitar. Eddie gave his guitar to Dustin.

"I'm real, big boy," Eddie said softly.

Steve let out a sob, and Eddie pulled him close. He dipped Steve and kissed him. Unable to keep their balance, Steve and Eddie stumbled to the ground.

"Well, hell, is anyone going to kiss us?" Patrick asked.

"We could kiss each other," Fred joked.

Patrick stared at him, and the smile slipped off of Fred's face. Patrick grinned as he looked him up and down.

"Yeah, okay, you're cute," Patrick said.

"What?! I mean. . .yeah!"

FIVE YEARS LATER. . .Saoradh. . .

Steve couldn't believe he was here, standing in his homeland with Chrissy, Eddie, and Nancy. Robin brought Vickie as well. All of their family and friends were there, including all of the fae children they had saved over the years. It had taken Eddie, Steve, Chrissy, and Nancy traveling in a cramped RV all over the country to find them all. Eddie hadn't been able to use his magic all the time. He was still amazed every time they came here. Steve gazed at the purple and pink sky, sighing happily. This is it.

"You nervous?" Robin's voice asked.

"Not at all," Steve grinned.

"He's totally nervous," Dustin said.

He pulled his head from the window and back into the small wooden building. He turned towards Robin and Dustin, glaring playfully.

"I'm ready for this," Steve said and tucked his hair behind his ears.

He clipped the fairy wings to his ears and checked his makeup in the mirror one last time. It had been centuries since the fae had lost their wings, but they still made sure to remember they once had them. Steve adjusted his yellow suit. It had been tough choosing between the suit and the fairy wedding robes, especially since the robe had lovely flowing sleeves. Steve chose the suit because his ass looked great in the pants, and he loved to see Eddie drool. Steve was more than willing to wear the jewelry, and if he knew Eddie, which he did, he had chosen the long flowing robes. Farran popped her head in, wearing fairy robes with glittering and moving flowers. Her carmel hair was piled on top of her head, with strands of hair framing her face.

"Oh, you look so beautiful, my love," Farran gasped.

"Thanks, Mama," Steve grinned. "You look beautiful too."

"Oh, I can't believe this is happening. Bobby and Lizzie should be here to see this," Farran said tearfully.

"In a way, I think they are," Steve grinned. "I feel them."

Farran patted his cheek and pulled him down to kiss his forehead.

"Are you ready?" She asked.

"Yeah."

Farran took his arm and led him outside. Dustin ran ahead to stand beside Eddie as his best man. Robin took Steve’s other arm.

"Hey, you're supposed to be my best man," Steve said in amusement.

"I've decided to give you away as well," Robin said. "I feel like it's my right as your platonic soulmate."

Farran and Steve laughed. Farran and Robin led Steve towards a cluster of trees. The tree branches moved aside, opening up to a large clearing where a lot of people were gathered. Eddie was up there already, Wayne crying and trying to get him to settle down. He adjusted Eddie's red, long flowing robes before stepping aside. Dustin was grinning with tears in his eyes. There was a large space next to them where Fred was standing up as Nancy's best man, and Patrick was standing up as Chrissy's. The music had already started. Nancy appeared first in her pastel blue suit, and her wild curls set loose. Ted and Karen stood on either side of her, crying. Steve watched as they led her down the aisle, and he laughed when Eddie high fived her before she got in place.

Next came Chrissy in her pink pastel suit, and her strawberry blonde hair loose around her shoulders. Argyle was happily giving her away, laughing when Eddie high fived her too. Finally, Steve was next. Farran and Robin guided him down the aisle where Eddie was waiting for him. With tears in his eyes, Steve couldn't help but think about how all of this started. Eddie had been in robes then, too, clueless about the unknown. He had guided Steve home, led him to discovering the truth about himself, and in the process, they had done so much good. It doesn't matter where you were, really, the people who were the most important to you, they were what made a house a home. As Steve walked towards Eddie, he had the same feelings as he did the day he met Nancy, the day Dustin came into his life, the same emotions swirling around him when he became friends with Robin and it was like when he hugged his mom for the first time since he was a baby. The truth of the matter. . .is that coming home happens more than once, and Steve was lucky to get so many.

[rose-reveries]

⚠️BEWARE THE EPISODE 4 PJO SPOILERS⚠️

Episode 4: The things I like, the things I don’t, the things I miss but I’m okay with them not being there

The things I liked about the new episode:

I liked the conversation at the beginning in the train. Very reminiscent of the book where we get to learn a little bit more about Annabeth and how she arrived at camp. I found it interesting how here we changed it from Annabeth’s father always resenting her birth to Annabeth’s father considering her “a gift” until her step-mother came along. I don’t mind this change at all and all in all still makes sense as to why Annabeth ran away when she was 7.

“But at least with gods you know the rules” okay Miss Chase your autism is showing (/j)

The flow from seeing the centaurs (which is something I believe only Percy saw in the books) to letting this be how Grover opens up about Pan and why he wants to be a searcher was a nice little combination of scenes to save time. We still understand how Grover feels about humans and their mistreatment of nature but it’s just in a slightly different way than the books and I’m okay with that change.

The BANTER between the trio was SO good this episode. You can really feel the bonds between these characters (especially Percy and Annabeth) forming this episode.

The pacing in this episode finally started to feel a little bit better than the first 3 episodes. I actually do think the change in how they meet Echidna helps with this because it prolongs the hunt whereas in the book the Echidna and Chimera scene IS quite short and fast. Meeting Echidna on the train, having them run and try to heal Percy, Percy gets worse, Percy sacrifices himself to let the other two get away, fight scene, he falls into the river, etc. Just way better pacing than like, for example, episode one where Alecto literally just flies at him and without moving he stabs her and she dies 💀

Okay, my FAVORITE new thing about the episode does have to be making the Arch a temple to Athena. If the gods still rule but have adapted to the west it makes total sense that they still have temples but they’re just modern American landmarks. Super cool and I loved this change.

Also, rather than Annabeth and Grover just heading down in the elevator before learning there’s a monster, I do like Percy stepping in and sacrificing himself to let them get away. It shows his loyalty to his friends, and how he would rather fight a monster than let them die without reason.

Since the Arch is a temple and Athena had to give Echidna permission to enter, and she did so due to Annabeth’s impertinence, this REALLY helps with the shows current message of heroes and monsters and what those terms mean, but also just how the gods are like BAD. I think it’ll help make Luke’s reasoning for turning on the gods make SO much sense for new audience members.

Percy and Annabeth banter?? ADORABLE

TOTALLY CALLED THE WATER REACHING OUT TO REACH PERCY LMAO. I know RR said he had Percy jump into the river because he didn’t realize how far it was from the arch so this is like sort of a retcon but yea, it works. Percy can manipulate water we learned this with how he pushed Nancy into the fountain.

Things I didn’t:

I think Echidna breaking into the train ✨magically✨ was eh. She could have simply just been on the train like how in the book she was just simply in the elevator.

Speaking of Echidna, it would’ve been so cool to see a snake lady :’). They did it with Medusa and Alecto but I guess they spent their whole budget on that because no snake lady to be seen.

I know the Mist would be hiding it from mortals… but even in the book Grover is like wearing pants and a hat. If they spent less cgi on Grover they could’ve animated some other stuff I’m sure.

The choice to keep depicting Kronos as this wraith instead of a voice from a pit is interesting?? We are already not setting up for Kronos reveal (like there was no Kronos exposition in the museum in episode one which I though was weird). Also I’d say that they’re doing this because they want new audience members to believe Hades is the BBG or something, but if they wanted us to think that why not mention the Helm of Darkness? The Helm would definitely help allude to this wraith figure we see I think. Or show us the hellhound. I don’t know. Weird. I think there is a lot of missing information that is IMPORTANT to the story that shouldn’t have been left out.

Things I miss but it’s fine they’re not there

The trio just never lost their stuff, huh? Like…the bus didn’t explode. They didn’t have to return a poodle for money to a train to Denver. I understand this was all probably cut for time and money sake.

Wish we took the time in the arch for Annabeth to talk about wanting to be an architect.

In conclusion, I liked this episode and I am enjoying the series. But this means that the Lightning Thief Musical is still the most book accurate adaptation of Percy Jackson and that makes me lol

[rebelspykatie]

that green light, i want it

Part 4

“We don’t have time for this,” Steve sighs, wiping the sweat from his brow and shoving more clothing into his bag. “Nancy is my ex. Barb was her best friend. We were the last people to see her alive before she disappeared into the woods. Cops thought it was me for a while, but there’s obviously no evidence. They let the case go cold. Couldn’t find a body.” 

He gets down on the floor to pull some things out and pack them away. 

“Nancy wouldn’t let it go. She retraced Barb’s steps and ended up in the woods alone. The coven found her and taught her magic.”

“Just like that?”

“No, it wasn’t that simple. I think they wanted to harness her power. It was raw and wild because she was so angry. Nance thought it was for her benefit, but now I think they were covering up their own tracks. Maybe they even purposefully led her away from the truth, but the power was killing her. It feeds on emotions and she was grieving, so when I found her, she was barely alive.”

He gets off the floor and keeps fluttering around the room, not even looking at Eddie as he continues. 

“I made her take me to them. I promised to protect her and took her place. We kept searching for answers. The power came more naturally to me than it did Nancy. Guilt is a better conduit than grief.”

“Why do you think you’re guilty? I mean, besides digging up dead bodies, but it sounds like that was for a good reason.” 

Steve feels a weird flutter in his stomach at that, that someone would believe he wasn’t an awful person. Eddie has no reason to trust him, especially after Steve attacked him, but here he is, offering up words that mean more than he could possibly realize. 

“I was the last person to see her alive. Both of us were. If we hadn’t…well if we hadn’t made a dumb decision to go sleep together, Barb might still be alive.” 

“You didn’t push her into the woods, right?” 

Steve freezes, holding a shirt in one hand and looking up at Eddie, “No, of course not.” 

“Then it’s not your fault,” and he says it so simply, like it’s a fact. “You were a kid when that happened, if I remember what Wayne said,” Steve nods, “She made a bad choice. The only person at fault is the person that killed her.” 

Silence follows that, the only sound in the room is their breathing and the soft scratchy friction as he picks up another pair of socks and crams them into his bag. 

“We lied to them about what we were doing,” he finally adds, picking up the old book and holding it up. “I took this. It’s an account from a necromancer. I didn’t realize how helpful it would be.” 

“You’re telling me these hags in the woods have a library?” Eddie takes the book and flips through it. 

Steve snorts, “It’s not that impressive. Just a bunch of old shit that nobody really pays attention to, books and journals from their ancestors.” 

“Is magic genetic?” Eddie looks up at him, curiosity radiating off of him.

“Not exactly.” He’s being entirely unhelpful to Eddie’s plight, if the deadpan look he shoots him is anything to go by, but they really don’t have time for this. “Look, do you remember the caretaker that was there before you?” 

“Old man Herman? Of course I remember him. He’s the only reason I have this job in the first place. His son used to work with Wayne, so he did me a solid and gave me this job.”

“What if I said he didn’t die of a heart attack?” Steve waits, confusion washing over Eddie’s face. “The coven poisoned him. Made it look like a heart attack.”

It takes a minute. Steve can practically see the gears turning in Eddie’s head, how he looks like he’s about to vibrate out of his skin as he paces around the room. There’s something about Eddie that feels too big to contain in any room, like his energy is going to ricochet off the walls and knock Steve over. 

“He saw something,” Eddie mutters, more of a statement than a question. 

“When Nancy started all of this, she was just looking for clues. The coven promised they could help her, taught her tracing spells and they must’ve known it wouldn’t lead anywhere, it kept pointing us back to the woods. We tried everything, looking for witnesses, combing through every inch out there. Nance even tried a time travel spell, but it didn’t work.”

“Time tra-” Eddie’s eyes look like they’re about to pop out of his head.

Steve ignores him, presses on. “Nancy heard one of the others talking about necromancy. It was like an old wives tale they passed around, a warning to new witches about the dangers of using dark magic.” He shakes his head, laughing a completely unamused laugh. “It gave her an idea. Before, we were operating as if she was still alive, but what if she was dead? What if we could find Barb’s body and communicate with her?” 

He sits on the edge of the bed, scrubbing a hand down his face. “We had to practice. Well, I had to practice. I wouldn’t let Nance go anywhere near that kind of magic, she was already burnt out. So I worked my way through the graveyard. It took months to get right. Working only when the coven wouldn’t catch wind of our plans.”

Eddie sits down on the bed beside him, closer than Steve was expecting, thighs touching and his hand settling on Steve’s knee. It’s comforting, even if Steve hadn’t realized how unsettled he’d become. 

“Tonight was just supposed to be a practice run for if we ever figured out where Barb was. The first time I really got to speak to the body. It was Herman. I remembered that he used to work there from when my grandpa died, so I asked if he’d seen anything. Thought it was a long shot, but-well, then he started talking.”

“And now you know who killed her?” Eddie tilts his head to catch Steve’s eye, but he lets his gaze fall to the floor in front of them. Eddie doesn’t really need an answer, but he nods anyway. 

He wishes he didn’t know. He wishes he had never followed Nancy into the woods, or up the stairs to his bedroom that night. He wishes he could close his eyes and make everything melt away into oblivion and bring Barb back. His whole life just feels like a series of bad decisions. 

Maybe then he wouldn’t feel this gnawing ache in his gut every day. The guilt wouldn’t be clawing at his throat. Nancy would be happy and whole again. He wouldn’t have to live with letting everyone in his life down.  But that’s not reality. He has to do something. They’re sitting ducks here.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Epilogue | AO3

[balanchine-ballet-master]

Feminism & Ballet

Gia Kourlas has an excellent opinion piece in the New York Times on Balanchine and the culture of ballet.

CRITIC’S NOTEBOOK Finding Freedom and Feminism in Ballet (It’s Possible)

With new books and a podcast taking another look at the legacy of George Balanchine and the culture of ballet, where does a modern ballerina stand?

By Gia Kourlas April 5, 2023

Ballet requires—no, demands—devotion. But what is the price of that devotion, especially for women? Ballet these days is under fire in some quarters, and the very idea of devotion to it has become suspect. A myth has grown around it: that its price is physical and mental abuse, eating disorders, bloody toes, suffering, pain and blind subservience to patriarchal leaders.

And it’s not just ballet, but George Balanchine’s vision of ballet, which seems to be, again, causing controversy as familiar stereotypes are revived, including the idea that he preferred extremely thin dancers with tiny heads and long legs.

With the recent release of a biography about Balanchine, a memoir by a former ballet student who failed to advance at the School of American Ballet―which Balanchine co-founded, along with New York City Ballet—and a podcast anchored on Balanchine, the choreographer and his legacy are floating in the air.

Balanchine demonstrating in class at the School of American Ballet, 1960. Photo: Nancy Lasalle via Eakins Press/George Balanchine Trust/The New Yorker

Balanchine told dancers, “Don’t think, dear, do,” which inspired the title of Alice Robb’s memoir, “Don’t Think, Dear: On Loving and Leaving Ballet”—though she leaves off the most important word, “do.” But what did Balanchine really mean? He wasn’t telling dancers to turn off their brains, he was urging them to dance in the moment. It was meant to quell overthinking, as in, Get out of your head.

A dancer’s mind is just as important as her body; the one guides the other. To dance fully without hesitation, without self-consciousness, sets the stage for dancing of power and flow—to witness such unforced abandon is one of ballet’s greatest gifts. It’s almost as if the mind and body conjoin in a spiritual melding that manifests as a feeling: sensation woven into silken motion. Dancers, in such moments, are celestial beings. Manners and decorum are stripped. It’s not about beauty or grace. The feminist case for ballet is right there onstage: It’s freedom. In his choreography, Balanchine made a space for women in particular—and for each woman—to be free.

Line, proportion, coordination are part of a dancer’s body, but dancing isn’t just about how a body looks. It’s bigger than that. When a dancer is completely in tune with music and steps, something intangible takes over and, as strange as it sounds, the physical body almost disappears. It’s magic, but it isn’t random: after years of training, after hours of repetition, the body becomes a conduit for emotion. Grit meets glory, the body meets the mind. That is Balanchine’s “do.”

Megan Fairchild, second from left, and Joseph Gordon in the first movement of Symphony in C, 2021. Photo: Caitlin Ochs for the NY Times

What is the feminist knock on ballet? That dancers have no agency. That ballet companies are like cults in which women are starved and controlled by men. That gender biases in dance reduce women to objects, especially when it comes to male-female partnering. That, in ballet, women are referred to as girls long after that ship has sailed.

Balanchine these days is seen by some as fostering that culture. In the podcast “The Turning: Room of Mirrors,” Erika Lantz explores the legacy of Balanchine and ballet culture with former company members and writers, who, at times, attack the art form with opinions delivered as received wisdom.

“One of the things that you learn in ballet is what a good woman looks like,” Chloe Angyal, the author of “Turning Pointe: How a New Generation of Dancers Is Saving Ballet From Itself,” says on the podcast. “How you’re supposed to look, how you’re supposed to move, how you’re supposed to behave, how you’re supposed to tolerate pain, how you’re supposed to conceal labor, who you’re supposed to obey, who you get to have power over.

“You learn all that in the ballet studio,” Angyal says. “But the reward for all that is accomplishing this very particular kind of femininity.”

Patricia McBride and Conrad Ludlow in Balanchine's one-act Swan Lake, 1967. Photo: Martha Swope via NYPL

Are all female ballet dancers the same kind of feminine? The dancers that I know are not holding on to a little girl’s definition of femininity; they're independent, strong and, as far as I can tell, they don’t suffer in silence.

And it’s important to remember that Balanchine’s female dancers didn’t all look the same and, even more crucial, that they didn’t all dance the same. What they had—and still do, generations later—was different kinds of femininity, and all of it athletic. Balanchine made ballet faster, sleeker, more daring. But it wasn’t just athleticism alone, it was how that allowed for a more urgent, even wild, expressiveness. He turned dancers into athletes, and athletes into dancers with a mind-body connection so profound that to be able to “do” was not a robotic regurgitation of steps, but a new kind of speaking, of singing with the body. That is still true today—it’s in the choreography.

Kyra Nichols and Charles Askegard in Davidsbundlertanze, 2004. Photo: Paul Kolnik via NYCB

The books and the podcast are focused on Balanchine’s era, which ended with his death in 1983, and into the 1990s. But ballet culture has been going through changes, more quickly than I’ve seen before; companies have become more racially diverse—incrementally, but at least it’s an improvement—and greater attention is being paid to dancers’ well-being. In the past few years, changes have also been made in artistic leadership and accountability. (At City Ballet, Peter Martins retired after accusations of physical and mental abuse; he was later cleared by an independent investigation.) Issues revolving around injury and mental health are taken more seriously; they are no longer sources of shame.

Part of the current reckoning with ballet seems to have much to do with the heartbreak of having to give it up. Midway through “Room of Mirrors,” we learn that Lantz, the podcast’s host, was a ballet student who made the decision to quit. “I don’t know why I’m crying,” she says. “I think it just meant a lot to me at the time. It was like one of the hardest decisions I ever made.”

Robb writes about a similar situation in her memoir, in which she recalls her experience at the School of American Ballet and dips into the biographies of others, including Misty Copeland and Margot Fonteyn. And while there is certainly sadness in Robb’s story, it’s not atypical: at a certain point, she didn’t advance at the school and had to leave; eventually, she quit ballet.

On “Room of Mirrors,” Wilhelmina Frankfurt, a former City Ballet dancer, says: “When you finally do move on, there’s a recovery period. And I think the recovery period into the quote-unquote ‘real world’ takes about 10 years.”

Wilhelmina Frankfurt in the Rubies section of Jewels, 1981. Photo: Steven Caras via stevencaras.com

For many, it is never the right time to leave. That includes students whose bodies can betray them in adolescence and professionals at the top level whose bodies betray them by giving out. Dancers aren’t instruments, but their bodies are their instrument; without the body, the art form doesn’t exist. What other art form relies so entirely on the body?

And there’s something else that tends to be left out of the discussion: ballet is hard. It’s not democratic; while anyone can study ballet (do it!), there is no question that only a rare few progress through years of rigorous training and then join a company. And it’s even more competitive for women—there are so many more of them. But how many Little Leaguers dream about making it to Major League Baseball or young tennis players of winning the U.S. Open?

I’m sensitive to dancers; I see them as people, and while it’s a fine line, I try to be as holistic as possible when writing about them. Musicality and proportion mean more to me than the size of a thigh. Coordination is key—it’s what allows a dancer to move with true abandon. Dancing well, dancing without restraint, is not about a body, it’s what you do with that body.

Balanchine working with dancers, 1952. Photo: Sam Falk for the NY Times

When I don’t discuss a dancer’s body—and, no, the idea of line isn’t only a veiled way to talk about weight—it’s a choice. I care most about how the person dances. I don’t fetishize a foot; I care about how the foot moves. I’m also not delusional. Are there physical standards in ballet? Of course. The body, like it or not, is part of the art form, and bodies develop in different ways. Ballet is punishing. There are injuries. It’s not for the weak—of body or mind.

But because it is an art form, ballet exists on another plane, where there is room for mystery and mysticism: So much is said about the silence dancers must maintain, but the body isn’t silent as it seeks harmony with the mind. The freedom in ballet comes when the body is so trained that it relaxes. Again, that’s the do.

The subject of flow came up in a 2022 talk about ballet and basketball with Steve Kerr, the Golden State Warriors head coach, and Alonzo King, the choreographer and artistic director of Lines Ballet in San Francisco. King spoke about dancers who are so absorbed in the moment that “they’re not self-conscious, they’re not thinking about themselves because that prevents the entry,” adding that, “You stop thinking about yourself and then something comes in—it’s that surrender thing that makes openings possible.”

Animating the body to a point in which it surrenders to the moment was part of Balanchine’s magic. He could probably see the potential of dancers more clearly than they could see themselves. But ballet isn’t one-sided. No matter who the choreographer is, it’s the dancer that finds an opening, a dancer that surrenders in real time. It’s a private moment in public, and it requires strength and courage; that’s a kind of feminism. A dancer’s world is neither little-girl pink nor black and white, it’s full of color and nuance and texture. When a dancer is onstage, she is in charge.

Ashley Bouder and Andrew Veyette in the Stars and Stripes pas de deux, 2013. Photo: Paul Kolnik via NYCB

[rebelrobin86]

12. Spell (Nancy)

Nancy found herself in the new witchcraft store in Hawkins, near Melvalds General Store and next to Radio Shack.

Nancy was fascinated by all the books, crystals, jewellery and so many fascinating items she'd never seen before in her small hometown of Hawkins. She was starting to become a regular customer, her latest purchase being everything she needed for a protection spell.

She was usually skeptic when it came to magic or supernatural items, but after everything she experienced recently, Nancy was open to trying anything that had a chance of protecting herself and everyone she cared about.

Nancy first used the spell for herself and Robin, before moving on to the rest of her friends and family. Nancy had no way to tell if it worked yet, since there was currently no threats, thankfully. 

"Can I help?" Robin asked, entering the kitchen, while Nancy was hard at work making potions. "Or I can distract my beautiful girlfriend instead?"

"Stop." Nancy blushed and giggled, then tried again to focus. "It's not that I don't want to take a break, but this is very important and I can't get distracted."

"That's no fun." Robin pouted and teased, before wrapping her arms around Nancy from behind, making Nancy jump as Robin kissed her cheek. "It's our one year anniversary and I love you."

"Happy anniversary, I love you too-" Nancy let go and turned round to hug Robin. "Wait, did I accidentally use a love spell?"

"No. I was under your spell, before the potion." Robin smiled and kissed Nancy's lips. "It wasn't a love spell, we don't need one, like I don't think we need a protection spell. You've always protected us before."

"I know. I'm just scared, what if Vecna comes back?" Nancy admitted. "It can't hurt, having extra protection?"

"True, but you deserve a break." Robin let go of the hug, to get a pink gemstone out her pocket to give to Nancy. "Like this Rose Quartz. Wherever you go, you can carry our love with you."

"That's so sweet. I love it. Thank you Robin." Nancy smiled and took the crystal. She then gave Robin a brand new pack of Tarot Cards. "I got you Tarot Cards, you did say you wanted to be a Fortune Teller."

"As long as my future is with you, I'll be happy." Robin smiled. "Now let's go celebrate, we can go back to potion making later."

[cryptidcasanova]

OMG HI! I love your Eddie Hellfire Haunts so far! They are so beautifully written. Everytime I read them I wish you could make a series!

May I request a Witch!Nancy with the prompt of "Magic comes at a price" in headcanon format (but you may also do it as a full pick, just in case you have a lot of other requests)

Thank you! Happy Haunting!

I'm so glad you're enjoyoing Hellfire Haunts!

And absolutely! I'm so used to writing fics that I don't know if I've ever done a headcannon before. But I love this idea so much!

Practical Magic

Soft Witch!Nancy Wheeler x GN Reader

Nancy didn't realize just how far she would push against her nuclear family's upbringing. She didn't know when it started, but she felt different ever since she tumbled into the upside down for the first time. After the Demogorgon attacked that deer, she changed.

Sometimes, she could sense things. Not the same way El could, but she could feel the energy in the room. She could see people differently, discerning their intentions.

That's what led her to the newspaper and journalism. She thought she'd be happy there, but it wasn't all it was cracked up to be. There were too many crooked reporters out there.

She took up keeping a little garden in her parent's backyard. Her dad applauded her humble, quiet hobby. Her mom watched on, confused at first. Nancy never liked to dig in the dirt. But as her flowers and herbs took root, Nancy's happiness was eerily familiar to her mom. She felt that way at about that age, and so did her own mother. Maybe it ran in the family, but the upside-down tapped into something much more potent.

The sight.

Neither inherently good nor bad, Nancy had to find her own path. Her mom tried to offer what little insight she had, but Karen had pushed out those reckless, childish thoughts when she met Ted. And then on, her family was her life.

Nancy didn't understand it. It wasn't like she could turn it on or off. Her abilities weren't quite like El's, but something else. She couldn't help it sometimes.

She could create joy with a smile or spread a current of tension through the room with a wilting stare. Mike was usually on the receiving end of them.

She spent her nights in the garden, watching the moon disappear behind the clouds. Sometimes, Nancy thought she could hear windchimes on the back porch. It was like something was calling out to her, and she didn't know how to call back. She was antsy trying to understand it.

Nancy started to bake with her mom, including ingredients from her garden. The baked goods started to leave a lingering effect. Whatever Nancy was doing to draw in every grandma and housewife of Hawkins to their front door was beyond her.

She helped El and Max get ready for homecoming one year, and by the end of the night, Mike and Lucas weren't the only ones fawning over them.

Nancy had this gentle but powerful ability. She just didn't know what to do with it.

But she felt like a growing fish in a little bowl. She wanted to see what was beyond the outskirts of Hawkins. She wanted to learn more, to see more.

She found what she was looking for in a little shop on the outskirts of Indianapolis. A secluded shop called to her with its soothing energy. It was inviting. She felt a tug in her heart to go in.

It was a metaphysical shop. It was soft and comforting, but there was something more. 

When you heard the bell ring, you looked at her with a careful expression. One look at her, and you knew. Nancy was green and curious while looking at the old books, tomes, recipes, and ingredients. Her eyes were practically glowing with excitement.

"I think I have just the thing for you." You called out to her, extending a hand to her. "But magic comes at a price. Are you ready?"

She took your hand and didn't look back. She'd be ready the next time something crazy happened in Hawkins or anywhere else.

[the-lunar-library]

Beauty and the Beast Novel Master List

I like Beauty and the Beast, I bet you do too, here's all the retellings I've read.

I'm not selecting for quality, I'm just listing them.

Art by anonymous. Beast has put on his nicest pompom shoes to win Beauty's heart.

Some of these are retellings (girl swaps places with father, is isolated with a beastly love interest of some type, leaves for some reason, returns to find the beast dying, confesses her love and saves the day), others are only inspired by BatB, but I'm including them as long as there's a clear reference. So Rose Daughter goes, but things like The Phantom of the Opera, Shrek, or Jane Eyre, despite their many overlaps, don't.

Art by Horace Elisha Scudder. Beauty has found Beast, here played by a distant cousin of the Berenstain Bears family.

Also for your consideration: What do you call your heroine when canonically she has a painfully literal name?

Hmmm...

E: explicit

NF: not fantasy or any adjacent genre

YA: young adult

BOOKS:

Beauty's names: Beauty, Lucy, Eider

A Rose for Beauty – Irene B Brand

NF. Novella length. I don't remember much about this one despite reading it just last year, but it's modern day and I think it's Christian. Featured in the Once Upon a Time collection. (No connection to the Once Upon a Time book series.)

Beauty and the Clockwork Beast – Nancy Campbell Allen (Steampunk Proper Romance)

Despite the title, I don't think this one follows the fairy tale quite faithfully enough to really be a retelling. It's more of an original steampunk gothic-mystery-romance. But the BatB inspiration is there.

The Price and Prey of Magic – Rachel Day

I wrote this one. It riffs on both the classic BatB and an alternate version called “The Green Serpent” where the beast is a snake and the Beauty character is thought to be hideous. Other fairy tales are incorporated.

Beauty's names: Belle, Violaine, Lindy

Belle – Cameron Dokey (Once Upon a Time)

YA. The Once Upon a Time series did novella retellings of the classic Disney fairy tales (as well as some outliers) in the 2000s. Some of them are fairly original, some of them play it more safe. There were multiple authors, but I always felt the Dokey entries were the strongest. Belle doesn't try to reinvent the fairy tale that much (see Spirited farther down the list), though it does make the magical rose a more central element in the story.

The Prisoner of the Castle of Enlightenment – Therese Doucet

E. Not a close retelling, but definitely inspired by BatB. Even set in 1700s France for good measure with a strong focus on the Enlightenment. Nods to the fairy tale early on, then heads off into unexpected original territory and gets magical and folkloric.

Beastly – Alex Flinn (Kendra Chronicles)

YA. Probably the best-known modern retelling. The author makes the risky choice of telling it from the beast's point of view, in this case a conceited rich prep boy, and I think a lot of the reader's enjoyment depends on how much they like being in his head. There's a companion novella from the Beauty character's perspective, but I haven't read it.

Beauty's names: Isabella, Caitrin, Beauty

Spirited – Nancy Holder (Once Upon a Time)

YA. The other Once Upon a Time retelling. This one is more original, less by-the-book, setting it in colonial America. But it makes the questionable decision to cast the beast character as an American Indian who takes a beautiful white colonist captive. I suspect this is why the series' creators revisited BatB with the Dokey version, with the hopes this one would quietly vanish.

Heart's Blood – Juliet Marillier

A historical fantasy set in medieval Ireland. This one decides to cast the beast as disabled, but if you can put that aside, he's an interesting and well-rounded character. Another book that deviates pretty substantially from the original and goes off and does its own thing. There are ghosts, not talking knickknacks. Even so, it feels like a legitimate retelling, not merely inspired by BatB.

Beauty and the Beast, The Only One Who Didn't Run Away – Wendy Mass (Twice Upon a Time)

YA. What I remember most about this one is reading it while waiting to see if I'd be impaneled for a jury. It doesn't stand out much in my memory, but as I recall it was lighthearted and aiming for humor.

Beauty's names: Beauty, Beauty, Beauty

Beauty – Robin McKinley

YA. Robin McKinley's first foray into BatB retellings. It's one of my favorite novels, period, with a thoughtful bookish Beauty (way before Disney did it) and a brooding but gracious beast. It's an intelligent slow burn with loads of introspection, but still has many sweet, warm, and funny moments.

Rose Daughter – Robin McKinley

YA. McKinley's better known BatB retelling. This one is a lot more original, expanding on the fairy tale, incorporating Beauty's siblings a lot, and overall giving you a longer, richer read. I still prefer Beauty, but this one has a lot going for it and includes an unusual twist. Also, while I won't list it as its own entry, Chalice is an original McKinley fantasy novel with a strong BatB vibe.

Beast – Donna Jo Napoli

YA. Another book from the beast's p.o.v. Also casts him as a person of color (Persian) with a white Beauty, and in this case turns him into a lion rather than a fantastical monster. Yes, him being a literal animal rather than a slightly humanoid beast does introduce some specific elements to the story. Probably part of why the cover touts it as sophisticated.

Beauty's names: Belle (Annabelle), Shelley

Belle – Sarah Price

NF. The Amish one. Modern setting. It has a YA feel (the heroine is very young), but given that it deals with marriage, and to a significantly older man, I'm not exactly sure which audience it's ultimately for. This Beauty takes a Disney-inspired approach, being bookish and spirited. But the beast is a crotchety Amish guy, so that's new.

The Gentle Prisoner – Sara Seale

NF. 1940s Cornwall. A gothic-tinged romance novel with an otherworldly, innocent, sensitive heroine, who's also very young and marries a significantly older man with a troubling scar and no end of brooding. Not exactly a retelling, but leans heavily on the fairy tale and isn't afraid to draw attention to it.

SHORT STORIES:

"The Rose and the Beast" – Francesca Lia Block

YA. Modern day. I did read this one, a hundred years ago. I don't remember much except for a general impression of the whole collection – dark, urban, sensuous. Can be found in the collection of the same name.

"The Courtship of Mr Lyon" – Angela Carter

Modern (to the 1970s, when it was published). A feminist retelling. Been forever since I read it, so I don't remember specifics, but I have a clear memory of enjoying it.

"The Tiger's Bride" – Angela Carter

As you can guess from the title, also sophisticated.

"Beast and Beauty" – Vivian Vande Velde

YA. A lighthearted, cute take on the story from the beast's perspective. VVV's writing is often very funny, and this is one of my favorites of her retellings. It can be found in Tales From the Brothers Grimm and the Sisters Weird.

That was tiring. I think I'll just lie here and stick my tongue out and die.

I would love to find more retellings, so please feel free to add to this list.

[eskawrites]

listen i know it’s october, but we got the first snow of the season today, and i got to bust out my winter instrumental playlist while i write christmas scenes for the celebrity fake dating au, and it’s all very sweet and serendipitous so have a lil excerpt if you like

-

Thursday finds them bundled in sweaters and coats, strolling down the sidewalk in front of a glittering row of department stores. Snow is falling lightly, lingering on the curls that stick out from beneath Nancy’s knit hat. She’s laughing at some story Steve is telling, the sound clear and bright and perfectly in place with the silver bells and glowing lights that infuse the city with a sense of magic.

They spend the evening drifting in and out of stores at their leisure. Steve picks up a broach for his mom and a nice pair of cufflinks for his dad. Robin finds a book she thinks Will will like and double checks with Nancy that he doesn’t already have it. Nancy finds an adorable handmade serving plate with a snowy forest scene painted on it and buys it for her mother, even though Robin knows for a fact Karen Wheeler has a formidable pile of gifts waiting for her in Nancy’s apartment.

“What about Mike?” Robin asks.

Nancy waves her hand. “He’s the easy one. El and I teamed up and got everything we need to turn his office into a recording studio. Then I just got him a couple books and that new Super Nintendo game with the monkeys.”

“Dustin is the same way,” says Steve. “I’ve had his stuff planned for months. Found a really nice model of the Millennium Falcon, and I managed to get an advance copy of that X-Men comic he’s been talking about. And then I bribed Mike and Lucas to take me to that one nerd shop they all love so I could get a custom mini of his D&D character.”

Nancy looks at Robin. “How is he so good at presents?”

Robin shrugs. “Beats me. I’m still struggling with what to get Max. My first idea was a new skateboard, since hers got lost somewhere when her mom moved this year, but freaking Lucas beat me to it.”

“At least you didn’t both get her a skateboard.”

She snorts. “No. Get this. This jerk makes a point of coming up to me and telling me he already bought Max one because, and I quote, ‘You’re the only other one who would think of it and I wanted to make sure I got there first.’”

“Oh my god.”

“I know!” Robin sighs. “I can’t hold it against him, though. He got it custom-made and inscribed some sentimental nonsense on the bottom. Max is going to love it—after she pretends to hate it, of course.”

Nancy smiles. “They’re good for each other, aren’t they?”

“They really are.” Robin looks over at her. “So, what about you? Do you have any ideas for Holly yet?”

Nancy shrugs. “Well, I snooped around her art stuff while I was there for Thanksgiving. She’s been getting into paints a lot, so I got her an easel and a nice set of brushes.”

“See? You know exactly what she wants. Why do you think you’re bad at this?”

“I don’t know.” Nancy shakes her head. “It’s just, they’re all going to be here for a full week, and I know it’s going to be hectic, and I just want her to have a good time.”

“She’s spending Christmas in New York City at her cool older sister’s place,” Robin points out. “How is that not fun?”

“She’s got a point, Nance,” says Steve.

“I came along for help, not for you two to team up on me.”

Robin laughs. “Okay, how about this. You clearly have a handle on gifts already, so why not get her an experience? Take her out one day, just the two of you. Is there anything you think she’d want to do that your parents won’t mind missing?”

Nancy thinks about it. “She did ask about going to see The Nutcracker, but my dad vetoed it. I’d love to take her ice skating, too. Oh, and she’d love going on a carriage ride.”

Robin nudges her. “See? You’ve totally got this.”

“You’re right. She’ll love it. Mike can handle Mom and Dad for the day. And I’ll ask Mom to pack her skates, too, as a surprise.” Nancy smiles up at her. “Robin, this is perfect.”

“Hey, this is all you. I barely said anything.”

“I’ll take credit if she won’t,” Steve says.

Nancy laughs and loops her arm through Robin’s. She leans into Robin’s side to look over at Steve. “Thank you, Steve.”

“You’re very welcome, Nancy.”

“You two are adorable,” Robin says, rolling her eyes. “Now come on, let’s find somewhere to get hot chocolate. I’m freezing.”

It’s a lie, of course. Nancy laughs again, pressing tighter against her side, and Steve chuckles and steps closer to wrap an arm around her shoulders, and Robin doesn’t feel the cold at all.

[detectivereads]

Spooky/Fall Season TBR 2023

Hi Everyone,

I wanted to write down my TBR for the fall/spooky season and mention some of the new books that are coming out this year. These titles are the ones I read every year and I highly recommend them to anyone who is looking for a spooky book to read (or really any murder mysteries, it feels like this is the prefect season to read Murder Mysteries).

~Books that are on my TBR~ : (Pretty much I recommend everything on this list)

Coraline by Neil Gailman

Halloween Tree by Ray Bardbury

Pumpkin Heads

Nancy Drew (This and the next few are perfect for the cozy weather)

Judy Bolton

Dana Sisters

Connie Blair

Hardy Boys

Scary Godmother

Edgar Allen Poe

The Invisible man

Nightmare Before Christmas Long Live the Pumpkin Queen

Bunnicula

Dracula by Bram Stoker

Frankenstein by Mary Shelly

Garlic and the Vampire

Garlic and the Witch

Halloween Party by Agatha Christie (first time I am going to read this)

Sherlock Holmes

Then there was none by Agatha Christie

Addams family

Goosebumps books

Mirror Lake By Juneau Black

The House of Lost Horizon Sarah Jewell mystery

Sleepy Hallow by Washington Irving

Harry Potter (I also read these around Xmas time too)

~OP Books I recommend~

The Shady Hallow mysteries. I love this series and it feels like you can read this series no matter what time of year but the big ones that I recommend from this series are Cold Clay & Mirror Lake.

I love Mirror Lake the most out of the series and the description of food and the autumn ambience is wonderful.

~Soon to release books (I hope)~ :

DeepHaven by Ethan M. Aldridge- I saw the artwork that this author has been posting and I thought it was gorgeous. I did some digging but did not really want to spoil it too much for myself. I am getting very Eldritch horror vibes from the artwork.

Unfamiliar vol 2 by Haley Newsome- I am in love with this series, it has magic it has witches it has food. What more could I ask for.

Twilight Falls by Juneau Black- This is one of my highly anticipated books that are coming out this year. I love the Shady Hollow Mysteries series, this come out after November, but I am still super hype for it.

 Tim Burton’s Nightmare before Christmas the Battle for Pumpkin King by Dan Conner- I have been collecting anything really Nightmare for a few a years now and when I saw this I freaked, I can’t wait for it.

Bookshops & Bonedust by Travis Baldree- I loved Legends & Lattes and when I found it there was going to be a 2nd book, I was thrilled I can’t wait for it.

Catch me If you Candy by Ellie Alexander- Recently I have been wanting to get more cozy mysteries and this series is like one of the biggest series I have seen. I am hoping to start collecting the series soon.

~New Books~ :

Most of these books are going to be Cozy Mysteries. I love Mysteries and Cozy Mysteries are right in my alley. First of all, I will not spoil mysteries for anyone if I can help it, so I will keep description vague. Most of these books are new to me and I am keeping myself blind incept for like the over storyline. (These are not new releases they are just new to me)

Fatal Fudge Swirl by Meri Allen- this is the third book in the Ice Cream Shop Mysteries books, I am trying to collect the others and read them in order. So, this mystery takes place around Halloween and there is a wedding, and tragedy strikes at the wedding.

Murder at the Pumpkin Pageant by Darci Hannah- this is another cozy that takes place around time Halloween time. Halloween time is here, and our MC Lindsey is not really jazzed about it, because she lives in the town spooky haunted lighthouse, so teenagers make it a test of courage to come up and scare each other silly.  However, this year her best friend asked to do a spooky episode for her social media what was supposed to be a night of ghost hunting and fun scares turns sinister.

One Poison Pie by Lynn Cahoon- Now this one doesn’t take place on around Halloween (as far from what I know I haven’t not read this book yet, so I fix this later if I am wrong) but it’s having to do with witches and what’s better she is an amateur detective kitchen witch. Mia is our main character and right now she has hit a rough patch in her life when boyfriend has left her greener pastures and she is now jobless. So, she heads back home to her grandma’s house. It’s the first book in this series so I don’t know too much about it.

A Batter of Life and Death by Ellie Alexander- the only thing I know is that this book takes place in fall and I just starting to get into the Bakeshop Mystery series. So, I am keeping my self-blind and I can’t wait to read it.

No Parm No Foul by Linda Reilly- this is the second book in the grilled cheese shop mystery, and it takes place around Halloween. I read the first book and I like it, so I want to try to get the second to see how it is.

[divine-donna]

visitation of the bard

pairing: eddie munson x gn! reader warning(s): n/a word count: 5.9k words notes: this fic takes place in a medieval au of stranger things. i felt heavy inspiration hit me so i wrote this. poured my heart and soul into it. i would suggest listening to some bardcore music for the ✨vibes✨ (particularly covers of “master of puppets,” “gimme! gimme! gimme!,” “rasputin,” and “hips don’t lie.”)

ao3 link: visitation of the bard by vanagloriah

The people were bustling about in their homes as the sun was about to emerge through the horizon. There was nothing particularly special about today. At least, not for now. Not that you would know of course, being holed up in the castle. Your father was quite the…protective one, is the best way to put it. He worried about you “mixing” with the common people. Your father managed the people of his land well. They were relatively happy about the services your father provided. He wasn’t harsh and was a rather forgiving man. You just wished he was a bit more lenient with you and he would let you out of these suffocating stone walls. If you were to become the ruler of this kingdom, it was only fitting that you at least know your own people personally. Not that you didn’t have your ways of sneaking out. It was actually rather easy. But you rarely went out, mostly because you didn’t want to break your father’s heart by sneaking out. You got caught once and the emotional distress you put that man through was enough to dissuade you from sneaking out. Your father wasn’t a bad man. He was just very concerned for your safety. Maybe too concerned considering you weren’t allowed to leave.

“Good morning my liege.” A voice chimes, stirring you from your sleep along with the glimmering rays of the sun.

Your eyes fluttered open, gazing upon the face of the person who awoke you. “Good morning Harper.” You yawn, sitting up from your bed. “How was last night?”

“Last night was…magical.” They sigh dreamily. “Sir Kent is truly a knight of chivalry!”

“I’m happy he came to you!” Not like you had involvement when you overheard the precious Sir Kent talk about how they found Harper ethereal and yet was too nervous to approach them. You just gave him a little nudge a few days ago. “Did anything else happen?”

“Oh. Nothing much.” Harper hid their face behind their hands.

“Are you embarrassed?” You lean forward with an inquisitive expression.

“No my liege!” Harper exclaims. “We must get dressed. You have breakfast and then your morning lessons! After that there is lunch with Lady Nancy of House Wheeler and your afternoon lessons—”

“And then dinner with my father and free time.” You finish. “I know the routine for today.”

“Well then, shall I help dress you for the day?”

“Of course.”

 ~~~

 Morning lessons were always a little more exhausting than the afternoon lessons. Or maybe that was just because you enjoyed being outside in the fresh air, taking in the aroma of the trees around you. Perhaps it would be easier for you to study if your lessons were outdoors. Your tutor, however, Robin, would prefer to not sit on the morning dew. She was very particular about these sorts of things. “I would prefer to keep my garments free of moisture (Y/N)” is what she usually said in response to your question.

You could only sigh as you closed your books, done with your lesson. “Is there any way for you to let me go outside?”

“Only if I have your father’s permission.” She shook her head. “Besides, you are meeting with Lady Nancy, yes?”

“Of course.” You raised an eyebrow before leaning forward. “Why? Is there something fascinating about Lady Nancy to you?”

“Umm! No! No!” You watched the blood flow upwards to her cheeks. “Absolutely not! Don’t even think about it (Y/N)!”

“Hmph. Okay.” You pout and cross your arms. “What about…anything going on in town?”

“Town?” Robin thinks. “Well there are rumors.”

“Rumors?”

“Rumors. About an infamous bard visiting.” She says. “They say very unsavory things, my liege.”

“Like what?”

“That his music is…temptation in auditory form. That he channels the powers of a dragon and Satan himself to entrance the men and ladies and nobles of all kinds.” Robin looks at you. “But it’s just a rumor. Most of these rumors are created by frightened husbands afraid a young bard will steal away their spouses.”

“Bards are quite…” You bit your lip seductively.

Robin rolled her eyes. “Behave yourself!”

 ~~~

 You were humming yourself a tune as you walked down the hallway, a skip in your step. An infamous bard coming to visit your kingdom? Rarely did anything happen here. It was a little bit exciting in your mind that this person was coming. Maybe you could sneak out and see if you could find them, attend one of their performances. You passed a group of ladies, whispering among themselves. You had to stop upon hearing them mention that they were going into town. “I wonder where this bard will be.” One of them whispers.

“Do you really believe the rumors are true?” You recognize the lady as a girl named Chrissy. Apparently she was being courted by Sir Jason Carver. It was an…interesting match. You personally believed they weren’t the best match for each other but who were you to say anything.

“The rumors about this bard being an agent of Satan?”

“Or heaven forbid! A dragon!”

“I doubt it.” You speak, turning around. All of them gasp, closing their mouths tight. “They’re all just rumors after all. I mean, how can one person possibly wield the power of a dragon through their song?” Their shoulders fall and sigh in relief. “It would be best to check for yourself. But maybe the bard isn’t being powered by a dragon. Maybe their song is being powered by a Siren instead.” The gasp from shock.

“No!” They exclaimed.

“Yes!” You giggle. “Best not believe the myths ladies~” You wink before turning around and continuing to walk. You could hear them swoon over you as you left.

 ~~~

 “(Y/N), you can’t be serious.”

“I am Nancy! I really am!”

The brunette sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. “(Y/N), I don’t think you understand what I’m trying to say. A stranger coming into your kingdom? Sure. That’s every kingdom. But you have to be wary of people that these rumors are based on. Rumors have a basis in the truth. If this bard,” She waves her fork around. “Has such rumors following them, I’m sure they must be some sort of trouble. You better hope they don’t stir anything.”

You scowled. “Don’t you think you’re being a little too…judgemental?”

“Maybe. But being judgemental has allowed me to be kept safe. Besides, what if this bard only plays in the more…unsavory parts of town?”

“Every kingdom has their unsavory parts, Nancy. And they’re the safest areas to be.”

“Listen, if you want to go, you can go. I’m not going to stop you obviously. But there’s lots of potential danger. And you have to think before you just waltz right in.” She frowns. “Remember what happened last time? I don’t want you to get hurt.”

You sigh. “It happened one time.”

“Yeah and you fainted and a group of smugglers were going to kidnap you for ransom! You’re lucky Mike and Robin had followed you!” Nancy sighs. “It could be a trap. Just be careful, okay? For my sake, for your friends’ sake. For your father’s sake.”

 ~~~

 A small sigh leaves your lips as you gaze upon the grass and the forest that bordered the town near your castle. Today was a nice day with the sun shining brightly. The wind gently caressed your face, carrying the scent of the grass with it. “Something on your mind, my liege?”

“Hmmm…Maybe Sir Kline.” You turned your head to face the much older man. Larry Kline, a respected knight who your father was raised alongside. He had become your teacher with the art of combat and horse riding. “A royal should always know how to defend themselves” is what he always repeated to you.

“What is it then my liege?”

“Well, I’m thinking about visiting town after dinner today, once night has fallen.” He nods along. “And there’s this bard coming. They’re pretty famous it seems but the reputation that follows them is…damning. Nancy says it’s a bad idea. But I rarely get out and…I want to go see a bard’s performance for myself. There’s something so stale about the way we have bards over. Too polished. The air of sincerity feels stale.”

“Well, reputations aren’t always an indicator of character, my liege. Sometimes, titles and rumors are passed down. Maybe this bard inherited this title and the rumors that follow them. I would know a thing or two about titles and reputations.”

“Really now?”

“Yes. I’m not sure your father has told you this but for a while, I was known as the Dread Knight Roberts.” He smiles as he thinks about the memories fondly. “I inherited the title from a knight and I will pass that title onto my squire.”

You had to sit on the revelation for a second. “That was…you?”

“Yes, my liege.”

“Wow. You are…very different from…the reputation that precedes you.”

“Exactly my liege. What I’m trying to say is, don’t believe everything you hear. Just don’t drink too much and bring a weapon with you. I trust that I’ve trained you well.” He looks up. “Shall we head back now, my liege? Your father will worry his little head off if we’re gone for too long. It’s not every day he lets me take you beyond the walls of the palace.”

 ~~~

 “Good night my liege.”

“Good night Harper.” You close the door behind you. You made sure to listen for their footsteps to disappear before running around your room. The sun was beginning to set and the guards would be having their evening meals. You threw off your night clothes and made sure to arrange your pillows underneath the blanket so it looked like you were under the covers. It worked before. Hopefully it will work again. The clothes you put on were rather plain and neutral colors and everything was covered with a black hooded cloak. You found a dagger lying about inside your chest. It was sharp, shiny, and would be suitable for protection. Your hands worked quickly to tie it to your belt. You wouldn’t stand out, hopefully.

You loved the adrenaline rush that came with sneaking out of the palace. It felt freeing to escape from the palace. You took your trusty steed Holland with you, riding into town. Your heart pounded when a palace guard stopped you at the gate but you managed to alter your voice enough to sound different, looking down and keeping your face hidden with your hood. “I’m just getting a few things for my liege.” The guard shrugged and let you pass. You made sure to take a deep breath in as the air contacted your skin once more. The sky tonight was clear, allowing the colors of dusk to be seen. There was something so ethereal about the colors of the sky as dusk settled. You visited tavern after tavern, trying to see if the bard you were looking for had arrived. It seemed that they weren’t at any taverns hosting him. You were content to eat at one though.

It took a while and you arrived at the last tavern which was lively. You could hear the noise of people inside the building. It looked a bit more worn down than the others and it was near the start of the forest. You tied Holland’s reins at a small stable before leaving and entering the building. The atmosphere was warm, welcoming. There was tons of laughter that filled the air and the sound of music hummed in the background. It was soothing. You approached the woman at the counter and pulled out a few silver coins. “One ale.”

“Coming right up dear.” She smiles. She’s gone for a brief minute, coming back with a cup. “Here you go.”

“Thank you.” You take the cup and walk around for a bit. You are keen to avoid unnecessary contact and keep speech brief with people. Some people might recognize you due to your way of speaking. It was best to blend in. You ask a few people around about the mysterious bard, but nothing appears to turn up.

After some time asking, you decide to sit. It seems your quest for the bard has hit a dead end. Perhaps it was best to drink your cup of ale before leaving. Though it certainly would seem strange, a stranger walking in and having one cup of ale before leaving. You sighed, taking a sip of the drink before wincing. It’s not that you had a taste for the finer things. You weren’t the biggest fan of these drinks in general. Ale, beer, wine. They all tasted somewhat the same to you. Your moment of silence was interrupted by a young boy appearing in front of you. He seemed…curious and there was a glint of excitement in his eyes. And maybe even mischief? “Hello.” You say.

“Hello.” He smiles. “You are very attractive.” You blinked before bursting out in laughter. He looks at you quizzically. “What is so funny?”

“Oh. You flatter me. Somewhat.” You gently pat his head. “I am far too old for you, young man.”

“Oh I’m not looking for someone for me. I already have a lady.” You raised an eyebrow. “I am mostly looking for someone suitable for him—”

“Okay that’s enough Dustin.” A taller man with thick locks of brown hair interrupted the young boy, covering his mouth with his hand. “I’m so sorry for the trouble. He doesn’t mean anything by it—”

The young boy, Dustin, pulled the man’s hand off from his face. “Yes I do. See, Steve has been having a hard time with the people and he hasn’t had any luck in finding a suitable person to court. He saw you and told me he was interested—”

“I had too much ale.” The man, Steve, pushes the child aside. You hear a “Hey!” come from him and laugh to yourself. “Sir Harrington.” He gently takes your hand before pressing his lips to your knuckles. “At your service.”

“Sir Steve Harrington?” You ask.

“Yes. And that young boy,” He sighs, exasperated as he says young boy. “Is my squire, Dustin Henderson.”

“Listen, it’s not my fault you cannot attract any gentlemen, maiden, or people in general—”

“He doesn’t mean that.” Steve purses his lips. “We…travel. So unfortunately, I cannot court any gentlemen, maidens, or people.”

“I see.” You nod before watching the two of them descent into bickering. Even though they were bickering, it sounded more friendly. It was as if they bickered all the time. Witty banter was always a plus with someone. A thought suddenly entered your mind. You haven’t asked the two people about the bard yet. Maybe they had an answer, even if it seemed highly unlikely. “Um, I’m sorry to interrupt.” The two of them stop their bickering almost immediately. “I’m wondering if you know about a certain bard?”

“Bard? Like who?” Steve asks.

“We have encountered many a bard.” Dustin explains.

“Well maybe not this bard? There are rumors that he,” You bring your voice to a whisper. “Wields the power of a dragon in his music and even Satan himself.”

Steve and Dustin blink before looking at each other. Dustin starts to giggle to himself, trying to hold laughter. You furrow your brows. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s nothing.” Steve waves his hand as if he’s swatting a fly. Your shoulders fall. It must just be pure rumor. Or even you missed said bard and they have made their way to the next town. “We know a person exactly like that.” You sit up, attentive. Steve cocks his head, gesturing to someone. Your gaze follows the direction his head moved towards.

He was pointing to a rather large group of people beside the fire, sitting at a table. And yet, your eyes were drawn to the man in the middle of it all. He had dark brown hair that reached his shoulders and his hair was wavy. He wore a black cloak over his clothes and right next to his body was a lute. His laugh was the loudest one from the group and his smile was wide. When he opened his eyes, you noticed they were brown. They looked soft, gentle. Those could not be the eyes of a bard who played a dragon’s song. It seemed Sir Kline was right. “That’s them?” You ask.

“Yes.” They both say.

“We travel with him!” Dustin beams.

“I see.” You look over again. Someone has left the table, probably to get another drink. “Thank you for your time, good sirs.” You stand and take your drink with you, sliding into the free seat. It seems no one has noticed your presence. Either that or they simply don’t care. What was there to care about anyways? It was nighttime. Everyone seemed merry. Amidst the laughter, the bard’s laughter falls. He looks at you and the two of you make eye contact. Now that you’re closer, you notice that he looks a little…familiar. As if you recognize him. But from where is the question. His smile widens as he notices your presence.

“Good fellows, it looks like we have a newcomer.” He announces. Everyone turns to look at you. Your body tenses up, nervous. “Welcome! Don’t be shy!” He exclaims, holding his cup up. “Cheers!”

“Cheers!”

“Cheers!” You say, lifting your own cup before taking a sip of your ale. You were only halfway done with your cup.

The bard leans forward. “Good liege, it is a pleasure to see you.” He gently takes your hand before pressing his lips against your knuckles. You feel your cheeks heat up at the contact. “May I know your name?”

Your voice was caught on your tongue. You couldn’t speak. Has this man bewitched you? “(Y/N)...”

“(Y/N). A very fitting name for an attractive person such as yourself.” He winks. Your face heats up even more.

“Oh my.” You whisper. Your heart felt like it was about to burst out of your chest.

“What brings you here dear (Y/N)?” He asks.

“I…” Your face was so hot and so was your body. Were you nervous? It had to be that! “I was curious about…you.”

“Me? There is no mystery to me!” He exclaims with a grin. “Why? What do they say about me?”

“Well…” You started fiddling with your fingers. It was usually considered improper etiquette to play with your fingers. But you weren’t in the company of nobility, were you? “They say your songs are…bewitching. So bewitching that they must be…backed by the power of a dragon.”

The noise falls quiet upon your voice. Have you said too much?

The bard bursts into laughter. “My, my. How frightening!” He sticks his tongue out. “My music is unnaturally good to the point that people must not believe I can create it on my own! I must have the power of mythical beings besides me!” He stands up suddenly. He looks at you. “I shall prove that my music is not touched by any mythical beast! Only the calloused hands of a human bard!”

He picks up his lute and makes sure to tune it. He cracks his knuckles and takes a deep breath. He appears to be in thought for some time, as if trying to figure out which song may bewitch you to him. “Aha!” He snaps his fingers before looking down at his lute. He begins to play. The sound that hits your ears makes you feel light all of a sudden. Your body acts as if it’s in a trance and you focus solely on his music. He appears to have captivated the whole tavern, who listen to him eagerly and who are just as still as you are. He occasionally sneaks glances at you, making sure you are watching him play. You feel your mind be at ease as you listen to him play. He speeds up his notes and strumming to create an energy of excitement. He slows down to let a soft melody enter the fold. It appears to continue going onwards, as if it’s never ending. But all good things must come to an end.

With a final strum, the bard ends his performance. Everyone in the tavern shouts and cheers. Your body feels like it’s waking up, as if you had been dunked in cold water. You still stare at him, captivated. His music was backed by the power of a dragon and maybe even Satan himself? You could not believe it. There was no possible way. A human did that? The bard was otherworldly himself! His talent was beyond what you can comprehend! And clearly beyond the comprehension of others. You finally release the breath you had been holding in. He smiles at you and bows, making sure to look deep into your eyes. You blink for a second and then he’s gone. As if he disappeared. Was he part of your imagination? No. He couldn’t be. This was not a dream or a figment. You felt his presence, his physical body. He had kissed your knuckles after all. You picked up your hand and gently rubbed the place where he had kissed. The memory made your heart skip a beat. Alas, the search was over. You had found what you were looking for.

You down the last of your ale and stand up, taking your leave. You send a nod of acknowledgement to the knight and his squire before exiting the tavern. It was quite late. And about time you head back home, to the palace—

“Ah!” You exclaimed.

Leaning against the stable was the bard himself. He looked at you as Holland ate out of his hand. “No worries, my liege. I just fed your horse an apple.” He smiles. Holland is calm beside him.

“How did you—?”

“Your cloak.” He points. “A fine fabric indeed with such detailed embroidery. The embroidery matches the quality on this steed’s saddle. Which must mean you’re from the palace.”

He deduced all of that from looking at you? Maybe you weren’t as low key as you thought. Your pulse quickened when reality hit you. If he could deduce such things, was it possible it was a trap? A trap to lure you out here? That was absurd! How could they know such a rumor would lure you out? He wouldn’t do such a thing. He was gentle and his eyes were kind. But that was part of their plan wasn’t it? It was a deception! Nancy was right!

The bard notices the change in atmosphere and in your facial expression. He puts his hands up. “My liege, I am harmless.” He smiles. “I have…experience.”

“In what way?” You question.

“That is not for me to tell. But, if you want a hint, I had a relative or two who used to tailor clothing for nobility and even royalty.”

Your shoulders relax slightly. But you’re still on edge. “Thank you, good sir.” You adjust your cloak. “I must be—”

He holds his hand out. You look at him quizzically. He appears to read your mind. “Why would I do this?” He laughs. “I just want to bring you somewhere. If you will let me?”

You glanced up at the sky. The moon was still up, its light shining brightly. Out here, you could see the bard more clearly. He was rather tall actually and he wore black boots. They were worn down, no doubt due to traveling. Something compelled you to take his hand and to go with him. Nancy would give you a piece of her mind if she knew what you were thinking right now. But Nancy wasn’t here. “You may.” You say after a moment of silence. You don’t take his hand though. “I will take my horse—”

“You will not need your horse.”

You raised an eyebrow at the man. “I highly doubt that.”

“The place where I want to take you is not far.” He gestures towards the woods. “It is a lake and it is beautiful under moonlight.”

“The woods and a lake?” You scoff. “A perfect place to hide a body, kidnap someone.” You cross your arms.

“Well…” He thinks for a moment before bowing to you. “I swear on my lute that I intend no harm, my liege.” He pats the instrument. “It is my most prized possession.”

You purse your lips for a bit, taking the promise into consideration. The night was still young. You still had time before you had to return to the palace. “Yes then. I will.”

“Alright.” His grin widens. “Follow me my liege.”

 ~~~

 It takes quite a bit of time to get to the destination he set out to bring you to. You’re careful not to get your cloak too dirty or else there will be questions as to why there was so much dirt on it. You were still not supposed to be out after all. The bard makes plenty of conversation with you as you walk. He asks lots of questions but avoids a majority of the questions you ask him. He answers more miscellaneous things, such as what age he started playing the lute and what made him want to travel with Sir Harrington and his squire. “They’re an interesting duo.” He shrugs as he hops over a branch.

Eventually, the two of you arrive at the lake. It is quite beautiful. Something about it feels…familiar. And yet, you don’t recall any memory of you being here in the past few years or even your life. Your body was still tense however as the water looked dark and murky. The forest was quiet save for the gentle humming of bugs and the occasional hoot of an owl. You shivered at the thought. Owls were bad omens. It could not be a good sign. Sensing your nervousness, the bard removes his cloak and sets it down on the grass being sitting. He pats the spot next to you. “Come, sit. Best not to get your cloak dirty.”

You take his invitation and sit down, body still tense. “You’re not supposed to be out, are you?” He questions.

“How—?” You were at a loss for words.

“You were busy trying not to get your cloak dirty while we were walking here. It’s not a far walk actually. It took longer than usual since I had to wait for you.” He gives you a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. I was raised in an environment similar to that, I guess. If that makes sense.”

You laugh, feeling the tension leave your muscles a bit. “It makes sense.” You look at the lake. Despite its dark, murky water, it’s still beautiful in its own way. The way the moonlight streamed in and reflected off of the still water gave you a sense of peace. “So, why bring me here?”

“Can’t a bard bring a person they find attractive to a spot they adore?” He asks.

“A spot you adore? Have you been here before?”

“Maybe…once. Or twice. Or thrice.”

You shake your head. “Keep your mysteries bard. I don’t want to discover them.”

“Oh but you do. You want to discover all!” He teases.

It gets a laugh out of you. “Well, I am curious about a lot of things.”

“Okay then. Ask me a question and I’ll answer it. Any question.”

“Yet you did not answer most of my questions on our way here.”

You see his cheeks become slightly pink, probably out of embarrassment. “You caught me. But I will answer your question if I deem it worthy.”

“Alright.” You think for a second. “Are you literate?”

He opens his mouth to answer but hesitates. “I…am.”

“Why the hesitation?” You laugh.

“Because I like to keep my skill set to myself, my liege.”

“Where did you learn?”

“That is for me to know and for you to never know.”

“Oh come on!” You whine. “Pretty please?”

He smiles. “Well…I learned from an old relative of mine. I haven’t seen him in ages though.”

“Okay.” You ponder for a second. “Why the lute?”

“My uncle played it. I am very close to him.” He answers but you hear a hint of sadness in his tone. Perhaps you touched a nerve.

“Okay. How about…you play a song for me? Any song. It can even be the song from the tavern! Which was amazing, by the way. I can see why people say your music is backed by the power of a dragon or Satan.”

“When people say that, they mean it in a…derogatory way.” He says. “It’s not a classic chivalric ballad. But the most important part is that I enjoy it.”

His hands pick up his lute. You notice now that the wood is rather dark. “And other people, clearly.”

“That is also true. It’s nice.” He thinks for a second before beginning to pluck the strings.

The song this time is gentle. It makes you feel at ease. Your muscles loosen and you lay down, closing your eyes so you can absorb the song to its fullest. You imagine yourself in a field with flowers on a bright sunny day. The sight in your mind brings you to ease. His music serves as background noise for the calm state of mind you are in. You don’t know when you started to doze off, but you did. He continued to play song after song, all of which kept you at ease and eventually lulled you into a gentle slumber.

You didn’t notice the look of longing in his eyes as he gazed upon your face, touched by the light of the moon.

 ~~~

 You gently stirred awake, your eyes fluttering open. The bard was still next to you, playing the lute. He hummed the tune to himself gently, his eyes closed. He was playing with his eyes closed? An impressive man indeed. You yawned, sitting up and stretching your arms above your head. As your vision came to, you realized that it was much later in the night than when you dozed off. And it was a lot later than you planned. It would be dawn soon and you were not back in your bed!

“Oh dear me!” You exclaim, standing up.

The bard stops playing and he looks at you. “Is everything alright?”

“I…I have to get back! I have to get back to the pal—” You stop yourself. “Home. I have to get back home!”

“No worries, my liege.” He smiles as he stands, picking up his cloak and wrapping it around his body. He clips it in place. “Where do you live? I can travel with you. It is dangerous to travel alone at night—”

“No!” You exclaim. His facial expression remains neutral. “I…It’s just…It would look…” You couldn’t muster the words.

The bard smiles. “No worries. I understand what you mean. After all, most people assume two people together must be romantically involved.”

“Yes.” You nod. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“You were sleeping and you looked tired, like you needed it. Besides, it would be rude of me to place my hands on you or wake you up without your consent.”

The statement made your chest feel warm. He was a gentle man, the bard. He was so sweet. He reminded you of someone. But you couldn’t place who. “Come now. Let’s go.” He’s about to start walking when you stop him with a gentle grip on his forearm.

“Wait…” You purse your lips, looking at him in his eyes. Your heart started pounding against your chest. “May I?”

He seems to know what you mean. “You may, my liege.”

You lean forward a bit and he meets you in the middle. His lips are soft and he places his hand on your upper arm gently, as if to keep you steady. The kiss was good enough to make you feel a bit wobbly. There’s a hint of passion behind the gentle pressure he applies but it’s gone when he pulls away. His cheeks are pink when you pull away. “I…I bet you have kissed plenty of other people.” It suddenly came out of your lips.

The bard laughs. “You would be surprised to know I haven’t really kissed many people, actually.” He offers his arm. “Come, my liege. Let’s go.”

 ~~~

 You’re still careful not to get too much dirt on your cloak. You make it back to the cavern and the moon is still up. There is no hint of sun yet. You still had time. The two of you approach the stable and untie your respective horses. “Ah. There you are! Where have you been?” A familiar voice exclaims. You turn your head to see Dustin, who is mounted on a horse. Next to him is Steve, also mounted.

“Sorry. I was entertaining a special someone.” He winks.

Steve rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Come on! Let’s go. You said it yourself. We can’t stay long in this kingdom.”

“I know, I know.” The bard mounts his horse.

You reach out and gently grip his hand. “Will I ever see you again?”

The bard looks surprised. He feigns a thoughtful expression before smiling. “Of course, my liege. I will come back, only for you.”

You let out a breath of relief before panic fills your body. A name! You forgot to ask his name! How forgetful of you! “Wait before you leave! May I know your name?” Perhaps this bard has swept you off of your feet, something…no one really has done to you.

He smiles again. “The name is Eddie, my liege. And you are (Y/N).”

You let out a nervous laugh. “Yes. Yes it is.” You let go of his hand. Your hand suddenly feels empty and cold without the warmth of his. “Farewell Eddie. I hope to see you soon.”

Eddie opens his mouth to say something but he’s interrupted by Steve. “Eddie! Let’s go!”

“Alright, alright.” Eddie rolls his eyes. He kicks his horse gently and it starts walking. You watched as the three of them entered the forest. Before they disappear, you see that Eddie turns his head to look at you one last time.

 ~~~

 The sun peeks through the canopy of leaves. Dawn has passed and the early morning has greeted them. Steve holds onto the reins of Dustin’s horse as Dustin sleeps. He looks at Eddie, who has been silent since they departed from you. Usually, the bard would be talking nonstop and annoying him. But that didn’t seem to be the case. “Eddie?” He asks. “Are you alright?”

Eddie snaps out of his trance. He had been lost in thought. “Yes. I’m alright Harrington.” Steve scoffs.

“That’s Sir Harrington to you.”

“Sure, sure.” Eddie rolls his eyes. He falls silent again for a bit before answering. “Do you think they recognized me?”

“Who?”

“(Y/N). The person I was with.”

“Oh. Well…it didn’t seem like they did.” Steve gives Eddie a sad and knowing look.

Eddie sighs. “Do you think they will one day?”

“I have faith. And you should too.” Steve smiles. “I mean, the last time you saw each other was…when?”

“Like…ten years?”

“Exactly! You look a lot different! And you’re an entirely different person with an entirely different lifestyle!”

“I wouldn’t say an entirely different person…” Eddie rolls his eyes before sighing. “(Y/N) has only grown more attractive. And they’re still somewhat the same. Still adventurous, still a bit cautious.”

“I’m guessing you hope to woo the liege?”

“Of course.” Eddie sighs dreamily. “I would want to woo no one else but my childhood sweetheart.”

[justawhoreforsteveharrington]

Chapter 4

"The Body"

Steve Harrington x OC

The following morning is a haze. The news of little Will Byers’ body being found at the quarry was spreading around town like wildfire. It left a sour taste in my mouth; something about this didn’t feel right. He’s lived here his whole life, friends with Dustin, Mike, and Lucas. I know those kids know the woods like the back of their hands. There is no way that Will just magically found his way to the quarry and fell in, absolutely no way.

Making my way into school, I stop at my locker and then make my way to Nancy’s. Spotting her grabbing her books out of her locker, I quickly make my way over. 

“Hey, Nance,” I say as I lean against the locker next to hers. 

She smiles and grabs her last book before replying, “Hello Addy, how are you today?” 

“M’ okay, you wanna meet at your house later or..” My question trailed off as I pushed off the locker that I was resting on. 

“That’s fine; we can meet up here at the end of the day and then go find Jonathan.” The bell rang just as she finished her sentence. 

“All right, cool. Let’s get to class before Mr. Brown has a conniption.” Making a scrunched-up face at her as we head to class.

Making my way out of chemistry, I head back to my locker, passing some kids. People crowd the hallways, some making out with their significant others, some chatting amongst friends, some picking on other people. Everyone is in their own little world. There is an itch in the back of my head that wants to reach out to hear their thoughts and peek in on their privacy. It would be so easy to just pop in their heads, and they wouldn’t even be able to tell I was there. With that fleeting thought, I opened my locker, pulled out my language arts book, and grabbed my walkman for my free period after. 

Doodling in my notebook, the outline of a monster could be seen. As the door opened, I snapped out of my haze; a woman asked for Nancy. I was shooting her a look as she packed her stuff up to follow the older woman. Something didn’t feel right here; looking down at my book, I focused on the drawing, trying to clear my head enough to peek into Nancy’s head. Letting out a deep breath through my mouth, letting my body relax, I felt my mind reach out to her. Her thoughts hit me full force. Shifting through them, I located the one I was looking for. She was meeting with the police about Barb going missing. Tuning out of her thoughts, I focused on the page in front of me. I had to see her after class; she would most likely go home after the meeting. Thank god it was my free period after this. 

I was hastily making my way to Nancy’s house. I walked up to the side of the house where her bedroom is at. I hoist myself up to get onto the roof next to her window. I tapped softly on the window to try not to scare her. She whips her head to the window looking at me. I smile and wave before tapping the window again. She opens it, backing away so I can get in. 

Focusing on climbing through the window and not knocking anything over in the process, I whisper to Nancy, “What happened earlier? Who was that lady?”

She looks away from me before saying, “The cops, I was questioned by them because I told my mom that Barb is missing.” She pauses, getting up to lock her door before continuing her sentence. “How did you know I would be home?” 

I hadn’t thought of that; panicking internally, I swallowed before replying. “It’s not every day miss Nancy Wheeler gets called to the office out of class. I just felt you would be home; besides, I have a free period right now, so I made the trip here.” 

Watching her nod, I mentally sighed, relieved that she had bought the lie. I can’t just outright tell her I have powers; she wouldn’t believe me. 

“We still have to meet Jonathan, and I think I know where he is.” She said as she bent down to grab her bag that was lazily dropped on the floor. 

“Okay, well, as much as I would love to see your mom, I’m gonna head back through the window. I’ll meet you out front.” I said to her as I made my way over to the window.

Walking into the funeral home was the last place I thought I would be today, but then I realized that Jonathan would be here made sense. I watched Nancy timidly walk through the double doors into the main area to get Jonathan so we could talk to him. Tuning out the conversation, I walked to the chairs at the end of the hall to sit down. Pulling my notebook out, I added details to the drawing of this monster. Just starting the neck portion of the drawing, I feel someone sit next to me. Snapping my notebook closed, I look over to see Nancy and Jonathan. Nancy pulls the photo out of her bag to hand to Jonathan. 

Watching him look at it, he says, “It looks like it could be some perspective distortion, but I wasn’t using a wide-angle.” He shakes his head and hands the photo back to Nancy before saying, “I don’t know. It’s weird.”

I look at Jonathan before asking, “Are you sure you didn’t see anyone else out there?”  

He furrows his eyebrows a bit before saying, “No. And She was there one second and gone the next. I figured she bolted.”

“The cops think she ran away, but they don’t know Barb. Addy and I went back to Steve’s yesterday, and we thought we saw something….” Nancy trailed off her sentence. 

“Some weird man or something…We don’t know what it was.” I finished for her gripping my notebook tighter. The feeling of fear turned my blood ice cold.

Looking at Nancy, she apologizes before saying, “We shouldn’t have come here today. We’re sorry.” Grabbing her things, she grabs my hand, pulling me up to lead me out of the funeral home with her. 

“What did he look like? This man you saw in the woods.” Jonathan asked us.

Turning around, Nancy stammers before saying, “I don’t know, it was almost like he…like he did-“

Jonathan cut her off by saying, “Didn’t have a face.” 

Gripping Nancy’s hand a little tighter, I ask him, “How did you know that?” 

The hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention. Dropping Nancy’s hand, I get a sudden, painful feeling in my head. Slouching over, I grab my head tightly; flashes of Jonathan’s house and the AV club room appear. Suddenly an alarm blares, bringing me back to reality. 

“Addy, Are you okay?” Nancy asked, wrapping her arm around me. 

I croaked, “Yeah, I just…I just got a really sharp pain in my head. I’m fine. We should go see if we can blow that picture up.” 

Standing up again, Nancy, Jonathan, and I make our way to the school. Sitting outside the door to the photo room, I put my headphones on to listen to Breathe (In the Air) by Pink Floyd. The music helped me ground myself. Thinking back to earlier in the funeral home, I can’t help but wonder who that girl was. Something about her made felt powerful. Reaching my mind out to her, I am met with a block. That’s never happened before; pushing against it I am met with more resistance. Furrowing my eyebrows, I try a little harder before I feel a hand on my shoulder. Jumping out of fright, I pulled my headphones off and looked at who had touched me. 

Seeing Nancy look down at me, she says, “Get up, Addy. We have a plan.”  

Word Count 1343

[thiefrecs]

07/28/2023

Stranger Things

things to come by birthdaycandles

After the events of Season four, Steve struggles with opening up in the event of Eddie and Max’s hospitalization. Surprised me with how much the author did not focus on the romance portion and the dynamics between Steve and adults! Also was incredibly funny at points, which was a welcome brevity from it ripping my heart out.

The Fruity Four Beat 1983 To Death With A Nail Bat by TheKidReadingInTheCorner

Steve, Robin, Nancy and Eddie are sent back to 1983 and proceed to be hypercompetent. Featuring a very cute El, hilarity, and more Barb and Chrissy than I’ve seen in any time travel fic for this fandom yet!

don't imagine you're too familiar by asclepia

After the events of Season 4, Steve is way too focused on Eddie and Max’s recent hospitalization to worry about himself. Love how it portrays the relationship between Steve and adults!

Steve Harrington's Unwilling Time Loop Saga by badpancake

“A series following Steve Harrington as he unknowingly, unwillingly, loops time to save the ones he loves (and maybe realises that he can ask for help, is deserving of love, before, after, and during).” Heartfelt, beautiful writing and by far one of my favorite fics ever. First can be read as a stand-alone but I recommend the whole series.

Kitchen Witch by Carerra_os

Note: Restricted to only AO3 users.

Steve Harrington is pretty sure he doesn’t have magic. However, after an incident with one Billy Hargrove involving cookies and a love potion, people start questioning if Steve’s cooking is really as magic as Dustin keeps claiming it is. A soft and warm story, with a cute twist.

STEVE’S FIRST BRUISE by cairparavels

Spider-Man Steve AU with Steve and Eddie as roommates!! I love Spider-Man so I was super excited when I found this. That, and the “LUSH bath bombs, that’s actually a plot point” tags were too intriguing not to want more. Oh, and was there more. Poetic, long and glorious. To those that enjoyed, I’d recommend the song “I and Love and You” by the Avett Brothers, as it carried the same vibes as the fic.

FNAF

but when i wake up, i see, you with me. by kryswrites

Incredibly cathartic, heartrending fic about Michael Afton meeting his siblings in the afterlife after FNAF6.

Three times Charlie met Michael without him knowing, and the one time he did. by BuckyTheDragon

What it says on the tin. Charlie from the FNAF bookverse and Michael from the games (kind of) meet, and eventually talk. I especially adored the end note.

Slide Into Fun!!! by DeadPuppetBoi

Afton Children go to the Pizzaplex, but a nightmarish version. This particular oneshot focuses on their adventure with Sun and Moon, and oh boy is it horrifying. Not going to spoil it but if you liked the books, or even the horror aspect of FNAF, this is a good one to try! Don’t let the chapter count fool you though- It’s long, and it’ll leave a lasting impression.

You Won’t Die by PrinceJakeFireCake

In which Michael very literally cannot die. A hilarious series that covers everything from birth to the Pizzaplex’s happenstance. One of my personal favorites, and one I highly recommend.

William D’Afton: A Less Terrible Father (Than His Contemporaries) by PrinceJakeFireCake

A young William is visited by Gregory, who warns him about his ultimate fate in an effort to change his ways. Unfortunately, that plan goes awry when it’s revealed that this William has no clue about the child murder. Interesting and funny take on the ghost of future mistakes idea for FNAF!

Supernatural

Worthless!verse by glassedplanets

This is a popular fic in fandom so people who see this post will probably already know it, but. I’ll put it out there anyway. Dean works as a tattoo artist, Castiel is a linguistics teacher. They meet and fall in love- That’s the easiest and hardest part, all in one.

[sunnydayreads]

My Little Book Awards

I just found out that Prophet Song by Paul Lynch has won the Booker Prize for 2023 (which I would like to read), and it made me think of giving out my own little awards for elements that I like in a book, ultimately creating my perfect book. Here goes.

Best Writing Style: Ransom Riggs

When I read Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children by Ransom Riggs, I found the writing style very clean and straight to the point. It was also very witty and entertaining and felt like a movie. In fact, as I read the book, I could easily imagine a film version of it directed by Tim Burton, like it was written just for him to direct (which I was very happy and excited to know he did later on).

Best Title: The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making

I bought this book by Catherynne M. Valente just because of the title. The longer the more interesting.

Best Cover: Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore by Robin Sloan

It’s got a shelf of books that glow in the dark !

Best World: The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern

A maze that goes up and down, an amusement ride to gaze at the stars, a circus that arrives without warning . . . The Night Circus is the perfect escape from reality (and if you know me, you know I do that a lot, lol). I just loved the way Erin Morgenstern described Le Cirque des Rêves. (Also, one of my childhood dreams was to be a circus performer.)

Best Story: The Midnight Library by Matt Haig

I love magical realism, but I also love books that deal with choices and what-ifs and that are secretly self-help books. At least to me, The Midnight Library felt like a self-help book hidden under all the fantasy aspects. Plus it has a massive library, alternate realities, and a protagonist around my age sorting out her life (I mean who has ever sorted it out?). This is the kind of story I’d love to read again and again and again.

Best Character: Nancy Drew

I grew up reading Nancy Drew (mostly Nancy Drew: Notebooks) by Carolyn Keene. When I was little, I wanted to have a small notebook of my own to use for solving mysteries just like her. I also wanted to be her best friend.

Best Food: 11/22/63 by Stephen King

I just realized recently that whenever I read books, I automatically take note of every food that is mentioned. To me, it's an important part of a story and makes a book more interesting. In 11/22/63, Stephen King described the hamburgers, chocolate pies and milk shakes of the fifties and sixties in a mouthwatering way. Like every food from that era was full, rich and of high quality. It probably is.

If anyone could write or has written a book with all these elements, please let me know. I’d love to read it. 😄 (I’ll add to this list if I remember other things I love.)

[heylinfanclub]

Equestrian Notes 4.14.23

- Talked a lot more than interacted with the horse, but the horse remained a vital part of grounding and recognizing when i start to dissociate hfjkg.

- Talked about the psyche circus as emotional parts (not for DID but as a general sense of lack of cohesion due to never being allowed to form a concrete public identity for 23 years of my life, I use Characters and their Symbolic Narratives as a way to explore the ways my brain fights its self in a way I can more easily point out parts instead of being like ‘idk some part of meee?’). (its also easier to be compassionate for a character than myself).

- Foster encapsulates rules and logic and forceful management. He’s ‘brush your teeth, comb your hair, wear something different, stand up straight, you know how, you are capable, not doing so if a personal failure’. He’s a vampire so he’s used to rules being necessary, lest you be hurt or ostracized. Which is... relatable... - Nancy asked when Foster would’ve become a part, not a character, but that sense that I needed to follow the rules or I would be in danger. And I said around thirteen. So while Foster as a character feels like an adult and is aggressively controlling, he’s only 13 years old. I’m 26. I’m older than this part of me. I know better, and I shouldn’t allow it to push me around. - She also suggested, if Foster is really only 13 instead of a grown man, what’s something more age appropriate he’d rather be doing? At that age, what would I rather be doing, than being bossed around? And the answer was.... to relax, to let loose, to be allowed to move at my own pace. Maybe, to have someone work alongside me, with compassion, rather than judgement. To understand my needs even while concerned about my performance. Also, I wish I’d had the communication skills in some way to express myself more during that time of my life, so, if anything, he probably wants to be more than just the rules he lives by. - So foster needs a talking to, to recognize he’s coming in pretty hot, even if he’s coming from a place of caring, of a place of ‘i can better them’. We don’t need to be better. We just need to be okay. And we are, for the most part, okay.

- She gave me a handout which separates the internal system, which all people have and gets occasionally fragmented by trauma--- Which includes, Managers, Fighters, Exiles and the Self. She says I have easily made tons of characters based on emotional states, I largely live in a state of ‘how can my brain be me, if i disagree with my brain so so much’. So while I have a ton of Managers telling me what to do, Fighters trying to distract me, Exiles crying in pain, I genuinely don’t know who I’m supposed to be in that mess. Our touchstone is Curiosity for me. That drive to understand compassionately, others and these parts of me that hurt so much. Sometimes I want them gone, because they’re in my way of living a LIFE, but it’s important to know that... that’s probably exactly what the people who neglected me thought. Ultimately I want to understand and HEAL, understand and work together to make things BETTER.

- Talked about how Fantasy has been kind of my cradle of healing since I was 11 years old. Playing as characters, talking about narratives, research, philosophy, things on PAPER-- It was where I found solace. But I have this feeling of wanting to be in the real world, but it’s so much scarier than stories. Books you can close, texts you can backspace, new stories you can start and stop at a whim. Life is a bit. Semi-Permanent. It’s concerning. Sigh. HFHFHFH. Something something ‘fantasy isnt just an escape, its what I WANT for the real world’. Owlhouse kinda fuck me up w that ‘lost one magic, found another’. I don’t. Wanna leave my ‘magic’ behind though. With it being, indulging deeply in stories and fantasy and discussion and roleplay. But I find it hard to make a balance between retreating into it fearfully anytime something bad happens in the world. Ach.

-- Its a nice day out today

[pixieslover-2]

Robin x Nancy short story and if you want I could do parts of this or something.

Sweet dreams.

______________________________________

Walking down the hall I found myself constantly thinking about Robin and the way she rambled I promise that girl can go on and on and on. After all of this stuff that happened I still find a way to keep myself from breaking down. I was now sitting in my room waiting a book that's when it hit me. My motion started to come deeper than I thought it would I felt myself let go as tears roll down my face I closed the book and lay down in bed crying to myself.

And in all my life I have never ever ever felt this alone! I couldn't help it more and more tears running down my face and I realize I was just so god-damn alone I just wanted somebody to be here with me and hold me and Jonathan was away so I couldn't do anything about this loneliness I thought about Steve Max my brother and then my thoughts said only went right back to Robin. Robin huh? Why am I thinking about her?

Suddenly hear a knock at my window I sit up and wipe the tears away. Then the. Came again but this time in a rhythm I get up out of the bed and opened it up. "Robin?" I asked in disbelief.

"Hey Nance. I was on my way home and thought that maybe I would stop by to see my friend!" She said with a small smile. I returned it and welcomed her in. "Your soaked." I watched as the water dripped off of her. "Annnd this maybe another reason why I came here....is it okay if I stay over for tonight I may or may not be. Being chased by men that I owe." She shrugged her shoulders with a smile on her face.

I let out a sigh of annoyance. "What. Did. You. Do?" I asked she sat on the floor crossed legged. "I asked to borrow a few....bills....okay a few hundred but but....I have the money they just haven't excepted my negotiation." I sat on my bed and looked into her blue wolf like eyes. "And why should I help you with that?" She bit her bottom lip and pulled up her shirt a bit. I stood up with my mouth a gap. "Wh-how did this happen." I lowered myself down to her height and lifted her shirt up more.

"I told you they wouldn't negotiate...so they cut.....me 2 times." I looked up to her with worry in my eyes. "We're is the second one..."

She sat up first removing the light yellow shirt then pulling up her second one. But didn't see any scar. "Were is it were did they hurt you?" She fully removed the shirt showing her back drenched in blood. I quickly stood to my feet and ran off to get magical materials to help Robin. When I got back she was in the same spot in the same position I left her in.

I slowly started to clean the scar on her hip but asked her to sit on my chair for her back since it was a bigger and longer scar. She let out a groan of pain as I placed the alcohol on her scar. "Shh. I know I know." I started to try and get her to quite down so we wouldn't be caught by anyone.

As I finished with the last bandages she asked such a question that made me think for a bit. "Can I see with you?" I sat there and thought for a bit. 'Well she is hurt....and I don't see any harm in it.' I cleared my throat before answering "yes ofcourse."

After talking a bit we layed down for bed "good night robin."

"Sweet dreams Nancy."

And without a problem we both slowly drifted off to sleep.

___________________________________________

Hope yall enjoyed the short story. And make sure to keep safe kids!

[joezworld]

Flesh is Temporary, Steel is Eternal. (2/5)

Sister

1967

“Don’t you have anywhere else to be?” Skarloey asked Nancy one afternoon in early summer.

“Nope!” She said, and draped herself over his saddle tank to continue reading her novel.

“Really?”

“Uh huh! All my friends are away, and mum and dad both work here, so I might as well stay here with you!”

Skarloey rolled his eyes. Nancy was too old for this to be called ‘babysitting’, but even when she wasn’t, the time for objections had long passed. She had been draping herself over himself and Rheneas for so long that The Thin Clergyman had written about it! At this point he was more used to her being around than not, and his grouchiness was growing more and more amiable with each passing month.

“What are you reading?”

“A pulp novel about a boy who is cursed by a witch to turn into a locomotive under the light of the full moon.” Nancy sounded especially sarcastic as she read the plot to him.

Skarloey stared up at her. “Really?”

“Yeah!” A hand dropped in front of his smokebox, showing the gaudy cover of the book; It did indeed feature a young man holding up his arm in horror as his hand turned into a locomotive wheel. CURSE OF THE WERE-ENGINE was printed in lurid red letters across the top of the cover.

“That is the worst book cover I have ever seen.” Skarloey said once he finished goggling at it.

“The book isn’t much better.” Nancy admitted as she retracted her arm.

“Then why are you reading it?”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t interesting. Besides, I want to see how the witch did it!”

“You want to see how to turn someone into an engine?”

“Yeah!”

“Why?”

“Becauuuseeee...” She said as she draped her entire head over the edge of Skarloey’s smokebox. “I’m curious!”

“About what?”

“About being an engine, silly!” She said as though it was totally reasonable. “I spend so much time with you and Rheneas and the others that I’m curious about what it’s like!”

“You could just ask me what it’s like.” Skarloey said, more than a little shocked at this

“Yeah, but you don’t know what it’s like to be a person, so it’d be like comparing apples to oranges - this book shows both sides.”

“What does it say then?”

“Honestly not much. The bloke is too busy being scared to actually notice anything. Typical boy.” She muttered.

“Nance” Rheneas asked groggily as he woke up from his nap. “Why do you want to be an engine?”

“Who wouldn’t?”

“I imagine a lot of people.”

“Like who?”

“You parents for one, your friends for another.”

“Eh. I’d rather be what I want to be than what they want me to be. ‘Sides, if I had to be like someone, I’d rather be like you two.”

Skarloey and Rheneas looked at each other. “Why?” Skarloey asked slowly.

“’Cause you’re brothers.” Nancy said simply. She’d clearly been thinking about this for a while, and kept talking like it had been on her mind. “And you’ve got Peter Sam and Duncan and Sir Handel and everyone else. I’ve just got me.”

Skarloey and Rheneas looked at each other again. They had no idea what being an only child was like, but evidently Nancy didn’t like being one.

“And if you turned into an engine,” Skarloey said with exceptional care. “What would that make you?”

“I dunno - your sister or something?” Nancy said blithely, unaware of the wide-eyed looks the two engines were having. “I feel like I already am sometimes, but it’s weird to say that when you two are older than my parents.”

“Well,” said Rheneas in a small voice before Skarloey could say anything. “If you ever manage that, I think you would be our sister then.”

“Okay!” Nancy said, blissfully ignorant of the emotional impact of her words in a way that only young people can be.

---

Two Years Later

It was a clear, cloudless night in July. The moon was supposed to be full and bright that night, and Skarloey and Rheneas had asked to be parked outside so that they could see it.

They were both half-asleep in the bright light of the very full moon when a dark-dressed figure came crunching up the gravel towards them.

Now fully awake, Skarloey called out to the figure. “Who goes there! Show yourself!”

“Keep your voice down!” Hissed the figured, who tore off their hat to reveal:

“Nancy!” Rheneas hissed. “What are you doing here? It’s the middle of the night!”

“I need to show you guys something,” Nancy looked strangely determined. “And it can only be done under a full moon!"

“What?”

“Look!” Nancy took this as permission to keep going, and rummaged through her bag to produce a thick, leather-bound book. “I found this in a second-hand shop on the mainland.”

“What is it?” Rheneas asked, instantly more interested in the book than in Nancy’s late night escapade. Skarloey would have whooshed steam at Rheneas to keep him focused on Nancy being out so late, but his fire had been dropped so long ago that there was nothing left.

“It’s a big book of enchantments and cantrips! Magic!” She said with excitement.

“Oh Nancy,” Skarloey wasn’t sure whether to be indignant at her or disappointed on her behalf. “Magic isn’t real!”

“I thought you’d say that,” She said quickly. “So I brought proof!”

She reached back into her bag, and pulled out a battered old school book. In the light of the moon, Skarloey could see that the book’s hard cover had words and shapes carved into it.

As the two engines watched, Nancy brought the book up to their eye level and then let go.

Instead of falling to the ballast below, the book hovered in mid-air. Skarloey watched with amazement, all objections forgotten.

“Amazing...” Whispered Rheneas, instantly very interested. “Did you learn that from the book?”

“Yeah!” Nancy exclaimed as she flipped the spell book open to a different page. “I found that and a load of other spells, but I wanted to try this one with you two!”

Skarloey was hesitant. Rheneas was not. “We’ll do it!” He cried before his brother could say anything.

Nancy squealed joyfully and knelt down between the two engines, quickly marking on their cylinder blocks with a grease pencil that she’d produced from... somewhere.

“What are you doing?” Asked Skarloey as the grease markings suddenly began to itch.

“I’m making a rune.” Nancy said, quietly concentrating as she made sure that the marks were identical.

“A what?”

“A rune - it’s a magic thing from the book.”

Skarloey wanted to roll his eyes at Rheneas and Nancy’s misplaced enthusiasm, but he looked back at the school book, still hovering over the tracks, and realized that he might be the wrong one in this situation.

Rheneas gasping broke him from his ruminations. “What are you doing?!”

What Nancy was doing was slicing both her palms open with a folding knife. “It needs blood to work!” She winced, before slapping both hands onto the runes.

Skarloey expected a wet slapping noise, and was vaguely horrified when a sharp sizzle emanated from beneath her hands instead. It sounded like Nancy was being horribly burned - even though neither of them were in steam, but she didn’t wince or cry out; if anything, it looked like whatever just happened had healed her hands, since her pained look lessened significantly.

Much to both engine’s concern, she then started reciting something in what Skarloey was certain was Latin:

“Duae familiae fiet unum,

Tenetur per metallum et sanguinem,

Fratrem in hac parte,

In lumine lunae,

Hoc autem creatus est vinculum solum potest conteram Deorum”

Her recitation was slow and methodical, and her face was deeply calm as she said it, ignoring the blood that was dripping down from both of her palms.

Rheneas looked to be somewhere on the ‘fascinated’ side of ‘horrified fascination’, while Skarloey was firmly on the other side - to the point where he couldn’t even muster up the words to tell Nancy what he thought of this macabre ritual, he was so horrified.

As she finished the string of ominous-sounding Latin, a bright light surged out from beneath Nancy’s fingers, tracing along the grease pen runes before running its way up her arms and Skarloey and Rheneas’ connecting rods. The light built to a hugely bright flash that looked like a silent lightning bolt.

When Skarloey blinked the spots out of his eyes, it was over. Nancy was lying flat on her back in the gravel a few feet away from where she started, the grease paint was gone from both engines, and when she stood up and brushed herself off, Skarloey could see no trace of the cuts to Nancy’s palms.

If one ignored the floating book, it was almost like nothing had happened.

Skarloey was still speechless from shock and horror at the whole affair, but Rheneas was somehow much calmer. “Now that the light show is over, are you going to tell us what that did?”

“Oh!” Skarloey didn’t need to see Nancy’s cheeks to know that she was blushing - the silly girl had totally forgotten to say what this spell did. “It’s suppose-”

“Hey you! What are you doing here?” The night watchman from the big railway’s works had been alerted by the bright flash of light, and was making his way across the yard, his flashlight bobbing up and down as he crossed the standard gauge rails.

“I’ll tell you later!” Nancy whispered as she stuffed the floating book into her bag and took off running up the narrow gauge line. Within a few moments, her dark clothing was swallowed up by the night, and she vanished.

The two little old engines waited until the watchman had run back to his office in the works to phone the police before speaking.

“Our sister is crazy.” Rheneas said finally.

“That’s not the word I’d use.” Skarloey muttered. “Foolish, irresponsible, worrying even, but-”

He stopped midsentence as something occurred to him.

“Rheneas, since when is Nancy our sister?”

“Since always?”

“Since always?! She wasn’t ten minutes ago!”

Both engines blinked for a moment.

“I guess we found out what that spell was supposed to do then.” Rheneas said quietly.

-

The next afternoon, Skarloey rolled into the yard after taking a train of slate trucks down from the mines. Nancy, who had been slumped bonelessly over an old chair in the shed with a magazine, hopped up and clambered up on top of his boiler without so much as a hello.

“That was an incredibly stupid thing to do last night.” Skarloey chided gently.

“I know,” Nancy said as she laid down between his funnel and dome and started reading. “Was worth it though.”

“Isn’t it hot up there? I’m still in steam.”

“Nope.”

“At some point you must really show me exactly what that book said.”

“Can you read Latin?’

“No.”

“Then I don’t think it will help if you read it.”

----

Two weeks later

It was another wonderful clear night, and Nancy was half asleep on Rheneas’ cab roof while he and Skarloey bickered over something incredibly minor as their fires died down. As much as Skarloey would complain about her sitting around idly, she did actually do odd jobs for the railroad, and had volunteered to drop the two engines’ fires once they got low enough. The problem was that this minor argument was keeping both of them thoroughly ‘fired up’ as it were, and she’d likely have to wait until the coal burned out entirely before she could clear out their ash pans.

Eventually, the argument got Rheneas in such a tizzy that he belched a gout of thick, sooty smoke out of his funnel, covering all three in a choking cloud of ash and coal dust.

When the smoke cleared, Skarloey was still blinking soot from his eyes while Rheneas spat chunks of clinker out of his mouth.

Nancy, meanwhile, had been directly in the cloud's path and was black from head to toe. She was not pleased about it.

Not that Skarloey and Rheneas cared, and the argument was quickly forgotten as they laughed themselves silly at their sibling’s predicament.

“It’s not funny you two! I just bought this jumper!” Nancy protested as Skarloey and Rheneas howled with laughter. “Aren’t you both - achoo!”

She cut herself off as she began sneezing massively from the ash in her nose. In fact, there was so much ash in her nose that it started coming out in little black puffs, which only fueled her brothers’ heaving laughter.

Skarloey could barely see, he was laughing so hard, and was therefore surprised to hear Rheneas’ voice go from mocking to concerned in the span of two seconds

“What’s wrong...” He trailed off as he opened his eyes.

What was wrong was plainly obvious - Nancy was still sneezing, but was now doing so from within an impossibly large cloud of black smoke. There was no way that it had all come from her, as the cloud was bigger than Nancy was, and was still growing with each sneeze.

By the time the cloud had grown to the size of Skarloey, neither brother was laughing any more, and were beside themselves with concern.

“Are you all right?” Rheneas called into the cloud.

“Ye- achoo! Yes! I think!” Nancy called back. “But something feels weird! Achoo!”

After a few more tense minutes, Nancy stopped sneezing and the smoke began to clear up.

Skarloey blinked once, then once more, then a third time. Next to him he could hear Rheneas quietly swearing.

“What?” Came Nancy’s voice. “What happened?”

Skarloey tried to speak, but his mouth just flapped open like a dying fish.

“What?” Nancy’s voice sounded increasingly concerned, which was impressive considering that she wasn’t even in sight anymore.

Well, she couldn’t be in sight anymore - there was an engine parked directly in front of where she had been standing, which meant that she had to be behind it.

It was a very familiar looking engine too - like if someone had taken off Skarloey’s two rear wheels and put them onto Rheneas’ frame.

“Will either of you say something!” Nancy’s voice demanded. It’s funny - if Skarloey didn’t know any better, he’d say that the engine was speaking with Nancy’s voice.

“Nancy?” Rheneas said in a small voice. “is that you?”

“Is what me?” The engine asked, its eyes darting around.

"You-you-you..." Rheneas spluttered incoherently.

“WHAT IS IT?!” The locomotive asked. A small corner of Skarloey’s mind was astounded that they hadn’t woken the other engines.

After another frantic moment, the locomotive looked down at its bufferbeam. Whatever it saw deeply surprised it, because its eyes snapped back up to look at Skarloey and Rheneas before looking back down at itself.

“Am... am I...?” It asked slowly. Skarloey felt like he was having an out of body experience - the pieces were there, but he wasn’t quite putting everything together.

“Yes!” Rheneas was quicker on the uptake. “Yes you are!”

The engine looked like it wanted to say something else, but it suddenly morphed and changed in a dark flash of movement. When it settled back down, Nancy was once again standing in the middle of the tracks.

“What?” She asked, in no small amount of shock as she patted herself down.

Seeing the engine turn back into Nancy suddenly made everything come together for Skarloey, and he tried to speak, or scream, or say something! Instead, all the words tried to come out at once and he just babbled incoherently.

Rheneas wasn’t in a much better state, and was saying something that he might have thought were words, but were actually just syllables.

Meanwhile, Nancy had suddenly stopped patting herself down, sprinted for her bag, which was hanging on a coat hook near the shed door, and flipped it over while she scrabbled for something in it. Eventually finding what she was looking for, she sprinted back in front of Skarloey and Rheneas, revealing that she was holding the same book of magic spells from two weeks ago.

Her brothers were not in any state to speak, let alone question her, and so she was able to quickly flip to the page she was looking for.

“That was not listed as a result!” She said after a minute, before carefully setting the book down on the ground and taking a few steps back. "But maybe... I switched some words around because you're made of metal. Let me try this again..."

Skarloey and Rheneas lost what little of their composure they had regained when Nancy’s form blurred once again, and the engine appeared in her place.

The engine - Nancy?! - blinked once, then blurred back to a human form. This continued back and forth several times, before Nancy, once again a person, staggered back on her heels, a look of joy on her face.

Wordlessly, she approached Skarloey and wrapped her arms around his smokebox.

“Now I really am your sister!” She said, tears beginning to stream down her face.

-

As the years went on, Nancy’s ability became normal to Skarloey and Rheneas. They had to keep it away from the other engines, because they were certain that some engines (Sir Handel, Duncan) would be unable to keep it secret, but it was not a secret that they considered Nancy to be their sister - even if nobody understood how or why!

If they had wanted to keep it a secret, then that option went out the window when Nancy’s daughters greeted the old engines as “unca Ska’oey!” and “unca ‘Neas!”

Similarly, Nancy could never pull any trains, because someone might notice, and ask where the new engine came from, but the trio were content to spend time with each other late at night when nobody was watching.

In the early 1990′s, Nancy and her husband moved to the Isle of Man for work. While they visited often, neither of them liked being so far away from their family, who all worked or went to school on Sodor, and they came back in 2002. Skarloey and Rheneas were thrilled to see her, which cemented her resolve to never leave Sodor again.

In 2013, Nancy’s oldest daughter entered the “family business”, and joined the board of directors for the Skarloey Railway. She proved to be a capable administrator, and was promoted to head of operations in after only a decade.

Even as she grew older, Nancy continued to hang around the sheds, never quite able to stay away...

-

2045

One bright summer morning, Nancy hobbled her way into the yards. Skarloey and Rheneas watched with no small amount of discomfort - age had not been kind to their sister, and she no longer moved with the grace of a young person. Coming to a stop on the tracks in front of Rheneas, she closed her eyes and morphed back into an engine.

Unlike her human form, she was just as young-looking an engine in 2045 as she was in 1969.

“That’s better.” She sighed quietly as she rested on her wheels.

“Nance?” Rheneas said quietly. “You do know that people can see you?”

“I don’t care.” She said as a wisp of steam curled out of her funnel, causing Skarloey to raise an eyebrow.

“Do you want to explain something?” He asked.

“I am old and I am creaky and I am tired of it.” She said, looking at Skarloey pointedly.

Skarloey’s other eyebrow rose, and Rheneas’ jaw dropped. “You don’t mean...”

“I do.”

The engines sat in silence for a moment - Nancy enjoying the Summer sun, while Skarloey and Rheneas digested her words.

After a while, a voice could be heard coming closer to them. Nancy’s daughter Elaine made her way across the tracks, deep in conversation on her earphone.

Although they could only hear one side of the conversation, Skarloey and Rheneas could pick up enough context clues to know that she was talking to the board about when it would become necessary to find another engine.

The two old engines eyed their younger sister - they had a feeling that this wasn’t a coincidence.

“-yes, I know that we only got Wolfgang five years ago, but traffic has increased ten percent since then! We can barely keep up with the Amazon traffic as it is. Thank god that we have Rusty back at full power after his rebuild-”

She stopped mid-stride as she looked over at the trio of engines. “Let me call you back.”

She stood there for a moment, glaring at her mother. Skarloey did not need to look at Nancy to know that she was making a face right back - the shite-eating grim was so prominent he could almost feel it.

Elaine gave up first, burying her head in her hands. “Mum, mum. We talked about this.”

“You talked about this. I ignored you.” Nancy smirked. Rheneas couldn’t hold back a gasp of laughter at his sister’s unadulterated snark.

“How am I supposed to explain this?” Elaine said, not even lifting her head out of her hands.

“I don’t care. I’m not going back.”

“What about dad? Isn’t he going to be waiting for you?” Elaine was trying to be upset and it wasn’t quite sticking.

“Your father will be waiting for me in heaven whether it’s for ten years or ten thousand. I’m staying here with my family.” Nancy wasn’t budging from her position.

Elaine drew her head out of her hands to glare at her mother again. Eventually, she admitted defeat, and threw her hands into the air. “Fine! Fine! You win! I give up!” She shouted as she stalked away towards the railroad’s offices.

She tapped her ear twice to engage another call, and Skarloey could hear her start talking to someone- presumably her sister. “Hey - she actually did it. No I’m not joking. Yeah, I’m gonna have to explain this to the board somehow. I don’t know how. Do you have the book still? Why? Because if she can do it then so can I when the time is-”

The door to the office closed behind her, silencing the conversation.

The trio of engines looked at each other meaningfully. No words were said until Duke puffed into the yards. He eyed Nancy with suspicion.

“There were two of you earlier.” The striking similarity between the three was not lost on him.

Skarloey was wondering how he was going to explain this to the normally-superstitious old engine when Nancy spoke up.

“For shame, Duke!” I go to the works for a month and you forget all about me?”

“I’m sure I don’t know you.” Duke was unconvinced.

For once, Skarloey was the first off the draw. “Really, you forgetful old engine? You know my sister for almost a hundred years and you forget her after a month?”

“How can you forget Nancy? She’s been here longer than you have!” Rheneas chipped in, once it was clear they were just going to gaslight their colleague.

Duke stared at them, unamused. “I only know one Nancy, and she most assuredly does not...”

The surety faded from his eyes as Kitten, woken from a nap by the argument, sauntered across the rails, hopped up onto Nancy’s bufferbeam, and fell asleep once more.

“...” Duke blinked several times as he tried to reconcile his memories of Nancy not being there with the engine sitting in front of him.

“I apologize. The years must be finally getting to me.” He said quietly, and steamed into the sheds, the automatic door sliding shut behind him.

It took all of Skarloey, Rheneas, and Nancy’s strength not to dissolve into laughter then and there.