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atlascripts · 2 years

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Warnings: angst, torture, blood, death, hurt comfort

the stranger in the suede jacket

You were at your family home, packing stuff to move out. You didn't talk much when you came back to town you mostly kept to yourself, all your memories as of recent consisted of recuperating at the hospital under Dr Owen's care. Brenner had tried his best to see if he could have you remember anything of that fateful day but your mind had blocked it out. Everything before that felt like a distant memory, even his face was a blurry memory, though your feelings for him never betrayed you. They’d bloom to life at the faintest hints you could recall of him, of Peter. The angel in white with perfect blond hair and blue eyes, except you still couldn't make out the contours of his face and if you tried to remember past the bliss of knowing his existence, it would all become too much and your ears would ring as a migraine would creep up.

You folded the t-shirt in your hand neatly tucking it in the carton, though you were let off free from Brenner's contract and were sent home to live your life you still had a lot of healing to do. Even without the memories, your body seemed to be living in its constant aftermath. You didn't have anyone in Hawkins so moving out into the city seemed like a good plan. It had barely even been a year since you had returned home but you heard odd rumours around town. Rumours became true when a little kid called Will Byers went missing. You could feel the ominous air settle into Hawkins ever since that day and you wanted more than anything to leave as fast as you could.

Everything was neatly packed that night, the rest of the furniture was covered in simple white sheets. You were to leave by morning, it was your last night in this house. Everything felt bittersweet as you had supper by yourself but your moments of sweet nostalgia were interrupted by the anomaly that was prevalent in town these days. It was always around late night that the power fluctuated at your place. You didn’t know why but your body would react severely to such incidents, you’d stiffen up and ball your fists, almost so hard that you could feel the nails dig into your flesh, as you waited for it to pass.

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

You had finally settled down in a small studio unit, it was very small actually but at least it was well maintained, and just around the block was the little cafe you had taken up a new job as a barista. Things seemed normal after a long time for the most part, except you still felt like you struggled to retain your memories, but you were getting by, saving up little by little. At least the sleep was comfortable, your new space was proving to be everything you needed after the entire ordeal.

Lately though at work you noticed something, something strange you couldn't put a finger on. In the bustling cafe in the morning hours when one could hardly lift their head to even observe, you somehow still noticed a customer at the far end corner. They always had their back to you, it was their suede jacket that seemed to pop out for you. But the moment you felt like you had actually noticed them, they'd disappear behind the crowd. It happened once in a while at first but later you were noticing the same suede jacket almost at every turn. What bothered you more was that these incidents didn't alarm you, this person felt like someone you knew, and you actually hoped to see them, hoped one day you could see their face. But just like that, it all stopped one day, you stopped seeing them and the yearning died a slow dull death in your heart, loneliness crept up again and you tried not to dwell on the sadness too much, an odd sadness of losing someone you didn't even know or see properly.

One night when you were in good spirits with the radio playing sweet melodies, you were leaning by the window, watching as the former drizzle had even further subsided but the wind was pleasantly chilly now. People went on about their evening and you had casually looked down at the street and you froze in your gaze. It was them, the person in the suede jacket looking up at you as if finally saying hi with their presence. You couldn't look away, his face was expressionless yet seemed to hold the same yearning you had. You may have blinked away for a second and they were gone. You looked around and waited by the window for a long time after that hoping they'd show up but they didn't. However the moment alone had left you dazed, you could fill the memories slowly now without causing too much strain, the contours of their face came alive, the angel you had remembered from your memories. Was it really him? you had asked yourself laying in bed staring at the ceiling.

In the later hours of the night when you were still awake for all the worse reasons, knowing well you'd regret it at work in the morning, the bell rang. For the first few seconds, you were nervous about getting the door. You put your little notebook down where you'd been writing your thoughts, but then when you looked at your notebook again something clicked in your head and you hurried to get it.

You stopped to take in a breath before turning the knob and it was like the final gaps in your memory of remembering his face had finally filled in. It was Peter, in that suede jacket with his blonde hair now messily grown out, it was always him. You stepped back a little to let him enter as he closed the door behind clicking its lock. He seemed to avoid your gaze for some reason before finally looking up at you, you reached out your hand to caress his face, to feel the warmth of his skin, the roughness of his slight stubble. He only watched as your eyes brimmed at the corners with tears and you embraced him, feeling his existence was like the comfort you had been looking for. Peter, however, was a little taken aback, his hands slowly reaching around to embrace you back but when the realization dawned on him that you truly didn't remember that fateful day, he tightened his embrace. A protective demeanour came over him and he buried his face in your hair, his conviction became firm, he had found you after all this time, no one was going to get in his way to mend what he broke years back, not even you.

79'

Power surged through the entire building at Hawkin's lab, the lights fluctuated strobing over the dead bodies lining up the hallways, bloodstains marked across every wall. Towards the end of it though, past the gates of the rainbow room, lay the final crime...

You cried in agonizing pain, pinned to the wall as you felt the pressure in every fibre of your being. Of being consumed, as if being robbed of your memories, your identity. Somehow it felt even slower, but you knew you were dying. Peter had killed almost anyone who had crossed his path, but a few managed to scurry away, they would have been at his mercy if it hadn't been for you. At what cost though, you were crying as you felt your eyes burn and you cried bloody tears. Peter's hand was raised up in your direction, his brows knitted and eyes closed as he lived through every moment of your life, feeling his now free powers amplify him until the memories dwindled into your later future. During your time at Hawkins lab, the microscopic aggression caused by Brenner, the policies that tied you here, being gaslighted into staying and amongst it all, your unrequited love for Peter.

It threw him off, it threw him off because he had despised you for the longest time here because he always noticed you ever since you were told to share duties with him, he hated how much you occupied his thoughts throughout his days, he hated his growing affection. And having not ever been through experiences of love of any kind, and with his conviction to rid the world of its meaningless charade. He hated that he may have fallen in love with you. But right now just the idea, the thought that you felt the same in this messed up unveiling of truth had him stumble in his process of literally killing you.

His hand balled into a fist as if to hold you in your place with his powers but your painful cries suddenly had him come back to the present time. It had played before his eyes the memory that felt so vivid, a memory of you. A memory of you two, when you were appointed to care for him after Brenner's mistreatment towards Peter. He was a little stiff in his posture as you had bandaged his wounded arm and hand. You had accidentally grazed over the deeper cut and Peter pulled his hand away immediately, he seemed displeased as you watched him just get up and walk away as if he was mad at you. But these memories were yours so he felt your emotions, the rejection, the unwanted feeling, the guilt of maybe hurting him all of it masked under your usual stoic face with that defeated posture as you put away the first aid supplies.

It was hitting him all at once the feeling of knowing you two were right there, in this dark place, feeling for each other but unable to communicate, like arms reached out but a tornado kept ripping at the seams of your silent love. More so Peter was unable to accept that he hated you so much only because he knew he had come to love you more than himself and he battled his wrath every day until it won. It won and here you were suffering a demise no one should ever suffer at the hands of their lover

But his wrath was also a part of him, he realized his demons too loved you and his hand slowly unclenched as you fell to the ground, he had spared you. But that scorching pain that you had felt, created ashes, and from those ashes formed a vortex that had initially erupted from your being, for when you collapsed the wall behind you had a rift. Twas a horrifying gateway with slithering vines that had ripped in the fabric of time.

The last bit of every ounce of humanity that Peter possessed had culminated at that moment and his eyes felt hazy as if this was so out of character and he was aware of it. His face had a blank expression as he knelt down before you to hold you in his arms and you struggled to breathe. Through choked sobs, you spoke but what you said, tattered what was left of his heart. He may have looked emotionless but he knew his soul cried that day after so long.

'Peter, help..'

That's it that's all you asked knowing well he had tried to kill you, you still asked him for help, hoping his mercy would extend.

He left you there though, he knew they'd come looking for him, your blurry vision watched him look back at you one last time before choosing to enter the abomination of a gateway that had created a rift in time and space. He was gone, leaving you there, hoping you'd live, hoping he had redeemed himself even a little if it were.

mood song: bloodstream by stateless

#jamie bower #peter ballard #henry creel #stranger things #peter ballard x reader #henry creel x reader #001 #suede jacket #mood song

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werdlewrites · 10 months

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The Season of the Witch: Allumage

Chapter Thirty-one: The Devil at My Door

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summary: The boy allows the pain to come down on him, no matter the ache that bloomed deep inside his chest. He lets pieces of himself erode away, becoming something - becoming someone he doesn’t recognize as blood poured from open wounds, spray paint dried against his fingertips. warnings: underage drinking, demogorgon, steve is A LOST BOY wc: 3,394

Steve Harrington was a lost soul. Slowly drifting further out into an endless sea the moment he caught sight of his girlfriend in the arms of another. Jonathan Byers, no less. It pushed him out into stormy waters, taking hold of a lovesick heart as violent waves crashed against it, threatening to tear it apart. And he lets them. The boy allows the pain to come down on him, no matter the ache that bloomed deep inside his chest. He lets pieces of himself erode away, becoming something - becoming someone he doesn’t recognize as blood poured from open wounds, spray paint dried against his fingertips. He had tried to search for something to hold the weakened organ together, finding his old friend in that familiar diner seemed like a sign sent from the unseen. But she walked away, and he allowed that too. He took the verbal beatings that spilled across the table, deserved. Yet he still yearned to reach for her arm to keep Autumn close by, finding some small comfort in being with someone that knew him like the back of their hand. But his fists stay firm on the warmed surface, listening to the sound of the bell jingle as she leaves him behind. He looked to them next - letting Tommy and his girlfriend fill the cracks of his heart with poison. Only realizing the damage they had truly caused until it was too late. Until she was at his doorstep.

He carves himself open before her - willingly accepting his faults, needing his voice to be heard and even though the girl listens, she leaves, just like before. Steve Harrington had spent most of his time in high school dancing amongst a crowd to never truly care for him, and now that he’s trapped in the silence, there’s regret. Time gone, mistakes made, people now hurting due to negative influences. He thinks about calling Nancy, or crawling on his knees to beg for forgiveness yet there’s still a pang of hurt to keep him at bay. She said it wasn’t like that, it’s not what he thinks. But she’s still there - with Jonathan. Back and forth he goes, the stress of unknowing what to do leading him to the chair by the pool with a can of beer in his hand. Nancy should have been sat beside him - just like the night at the small party, but all remains empty and it encourages a few sips to dull the ache. He wonders if Autumn would answer the phone, now that she's seen his heart exposed. But he knows it would only deepen the dagger if she hung up, so the option is thrown to the side. He's out beneath the evening sun for hours - watching it fade into the horizon to welcome the night, letting the buzz from alcohol dissipate until his head was now cleared.

The idea of Jonathan and Nancy together left a sickening feeling in his gut, and yet his hostile words in the back alley are what churns the bile until it burns his insides. Heartache you can heal from, but the shame in what you've done to the ones undeserving will haunt you until the end of your days. Until you've admitted your sins and looked for forgiveness - not from the other party, but from within. Knowing you've faced your demons head on. So the teen takes his car keys and sets out on the short journey to the Byers - risking the door slamming in his face or another fight to come crashing down across the gravel just beyond the steps. But he looks to the bright light of hope for change to come, letting it carry him through the dark of night until he’s in their driveway - an all too familiar jeep sitting cold just next to Jonathan’s. “Fuck,” he mutters, fingers running along his lips as there’s instant defeat to wash over him. Autumn had said they weren’t talking - and yet she’s there with him. Was a damaged friendship now being sewn together as they talked about Steve’s misery? Basking in the glory of punishment finally served. He can’t stomach it - the image of someone once so pure to him now taking pride in his spirit being squashed like a bug beneath her boot. It has his steps racing up to the door where his fist pounds, rattling the wood as his voice calls out Jonathan’s name. “Are you there, man? It’s-it’s Steve! Listen I-I just want t’talk.”

He waits in the silence - picturing an old friend and the other boy fleeing to hide away somewhere deeper within the house, to pretend they don’t exist and ignore his cries on the welcome mat. But a light shines against his face as the door opens, his chest swelling with relief knowing someone at least came for him. And then that breath pools out from parted lips, confused, and surprised to see Nancy in the halo of a dim glow. His fragile heart rattles with aching. “Nancy, what-” “You need to leave,” her voice is firm, and somewhat hushed - a secret shared just over the threshold. “N-no, I-I’m not trying to start anything, okay?” “I don’t care about that. You need to leave.” “No, no, no. Listen, I-I-I messed up, okay? I messed-I messed up.” There’s a silent prayer that Jonathan hears the confession of guilt, and that maybe Autumn was there in the background, providing encouragement to smooth things over. But she’s left frozen just out of his view, drinking in his sorrow and sparing uncertain looks with Jonathan as hell begins to creep closer. And within an instant, Steve becomes forgotten in the background - his voice nothing but mumbled words as Autumn’s focus drifts elsewhere. Thorns made from ice dance up along the girl's spine, caging around her mind and pushing against tired eyes until there are flashes of white - pain moving through her like an electric shock. She feels it out there - somewhere just beyond the wall. “Autumn?”

Jonathan’s voice is enough to keep her locked in reality, eyes still zeroed in on the wallpaper of the living room. “Something’s not right,” her words are soft against the anger just at the front door. Steve easily forces his way inside, stumbling over his own feet from the shock of what’s become of the Byers home. “What is-'' there's a heavy pause, connecting with Autumn’s wide stare before finding her hand wound tightly around the handle of an ax. “What the-” In the blink of an eye, Jonathan abandons his friend's side to instead press a firm hand to the intruder's shoulder, grabbing at his shirt in hopes to haul him out the front door. “You need t’get out of here-” Steve’s panic begins to rise, fighting against the force to his chest with frantic hands to try and pull him off. “What is all-” “Listen t’me, I’m not asking you, I’m telling you,” Jonathan’s voice drowns out Steve’s, eyes scanning every inch of the once cozy living room to land on Autumn once again, shaken and unsettled at her involvement with whatever the duo were plotting. “What-what is that smell? Is that-is that gasoline?” “Get out of here!” Steve continues to fight against the other boy, and their words once more fade into nothing as a cold chill sweeps along her skin, pulling Autumn’s gaze back to the barren wall. It was too late now - Steve was trapped, unknowingly making himself bait even if he did step back out into the night. An unsettling gaze falls to her friend, while his focus lingers on Nancy with a loaded gun aiming to scare off a soon to be victim. But he feels her stare, breaking the contact he held in shock to instead meet Autumn halfway, the dread in her silence screaming louder than the couple just beside him.

”What is it?” he questions, his voice now soft and buried beneath the shouting. Terror begins to strangle the girl from the inside, knowing she would finally face what had haunted her for what seemed like forever. Words are lost, held back by the unseen grip around her neck but there’s a slow shake of her head, and it tells enough. Jonathan’s fists tighten at his sides, ready for war as he calls Nancy’s name to bring her back into the moment - but she continues to threaten with hurt in her voice, thinking what would become of her first real love. Then it’s there - crawling yet unseen, smelling the blood to gather under bandages and the fear that weakens their knees. Lights flicker, a warning that they were no longer safe and Autumn’s grip tightens around the handle, though trembling. “It’s here.” “Wait, what’s here?” Jonathan reaches for his friend, pulling her in closer - to remain as a solid force against evil. “Where is it?” “Where is what-woah! Easy with that!” Bodies crash into the girl, lost in their panic while something tugs at her insides. Whispers of something incoherent becoming stronger as she follows the pull up the patterned wallpaper, settling on the corner of the ceiling. “I don’t see it!” “Hello! Will someone please explain t’me what the hell is going-” There’s a new fear clawing at his insides, tearing away life from his chest as all becomes eerily still within the group, watching in horror as the ceiling gives way - opening a doorway to hell, or what is now known as “The Upside Down.”

Nancy fires - the only one to act in the moment as Autumn finds a familiar, iced over pain to hold her frozen in time. A curse to keep the girl locked in an unseen prison while the predator clawed its way closer - smelling blood, terror, and familiarity. It takes the form of a beast, something unholy, its roar of anger echoing inside a hollow form as she struggles to break free from her imprisonment. There were nightmares conjured up with all possibilities of what those claws belonged to - chasing, running her down through the woods until it vanished into nothing. The fear it instilled was gratifying enough without the kill - leaving her forehead drenched in sweat and fingers aching from a tight fist when she found the morning light. “Go! Go, run! Go!” His voice works as the key to her cell, unlocking the door to set her free and follow after the pair as they retreat. Yet Steve remains, just like she once was - shock overwhelming him until his body could no longer move. It sparks to life the moment Autumn takes his hand, ripping him from his place on the carpet and down the hall. His screams blend in with the chaos just out in the other room. “What the hell was that? What the hell was that!” “Shut up!” Wide eyes flitter between the trio, submitting to their demand but seeking answers in silence, and none is given. Her eyes linger for just a moment, the pity ever so visible as she absorbs his fear. Would he make it out of this? He wasn’t meant to be here. He wasn’t meant to live with sleepless nights, looking to every shadow for a monster.

It changes - moves. Autumn’s fingers adjust on the handle, firm as she tries to understand this new feeling. Something distant, yet so close. A ghost to hover and taunt, never to be seen and only felt as its voice fades into nothing. “Do you hear anything?” “No. Autumn?” She had volunteered herself. A moment of strength as she offered what she could - to search in the darkness where her mind always lay awake, looking for something unwelcome. “I - I don’t know.” It’s an honest answer, the ice now thawing to just leave goosebumps along her skin. Jonathan pockets his lighter, finding a small wave of bravery in her response, risking it all as he pushes through the bedroom door with care. One by one they move, yet remaining close in a pack for safety - and each time Steve froze up with fear, his shirt was gathered in a fist to yank forward. “Come on,” she would say in a hushed tone, letting him trip over his own feet until he was at her side. Little by little, they move out into the open - the doorway it crawled through now gone, as if it never existed. As if it was just another nightmare the group shared. Yet there was something - a constant pull to have the girl turn to look just over her shoulder. The feeling of being watched. Something not with them but in the distance out of sight, waiting for the right moment. “What is it?” her friend asks, eyes filled with concern as he watches panic fuel her actions. “Somewhere - I don’t know. Not here, but somewhere. Almost like,” there’s a heavy pause with eyes looking towards the window covered in papers - waiting for a silhouette to just pass by it. “hunting. Hunting prey.” “Prey?” the newcomer shouts, his chest heaving with hands tugging at strands of hair from stress, before they reach out to her, though left to hang in the air. “What do you - how -?” He’s thrown into madness, a disbelieving chuckle on his lips and words of terror. “This is crazy. This is actually crazy. This is crazy-” The hold on the ax loosens, feet already carrying Autumn closer to the whirlwind he spun through. He won’t see her - too lost in the storm that wreaked havoc from within - feet once locked in place now flying across the carpeted floor. “This is crazy!”

He’s at the phone, and in the blink of an eye Nancy throws it to the floor. “What are you do - what are you doing? Are you insane!” “It’s going to come back! So you need to leave. Right now.” Autumn had never truly known the girl - seeing her only from a distance, bathed in light and love with doe eyes and a sweet smile on her face. Death had changed her - or maybe revealed what she always had been beneath the flowers and innocence. There was power, determination and anger just boiling under her skin, fingers locked tight around the gun. She wonders why they’ve never spoken. Her boyfriend spares glances between them all - looking for closure. A man made from steel now withered and fighting for steady breaths to keep him stable. “You can’t be s-” “Go, Steve. You don’t have much time.” He’s full of wonder as their eyes meet, questions caught in his throat. What came through the ceiling? Where was it now and how did she seem to know, while the others spun in circles. It’s all choked down - every thought left unsaid as he spills out into the darkness. The beast in the shadows doesn’t seek out the stray in its lonesome - an easy target. Instead it lingers around the trio, moving closer - seeking to take out the threat against the unnatural. She can feel it all around her - breaths dancing through chilled air as lights begin to flicker. “Come on. Come on you son of a bitch.” There’s pressure building - claws reaching through infinity to grip her. A cold hand around her skull and squeezing, fingers pressed into her eyes until she can no longer see danger - but drown in its wickedness. Weakened knees collapse as a body crashes into her, the handle of her weapon the only support as the blade presses into the floor. “Autumn! What’s happening? Where-”

“Everywhere. I feel it everywhere.”

Together they move around the fallen one, keeping her concealed with their backs to her - Nancy’s hand outstretched to protect from anything that may sneak through. She can see the gesture through hazy vision until all falls to darkness. A heavy blanket thrown over their eyes for something to make its way through undetected. And with the lack of light, Autumn finds a small amount of relief - the threat she endured in silence drifting elsewhere and still..near. It’s a haunting, bone chilling sensation - something hiding in the depths, ready for the kill. She almost can’t face it, a childlike thought of somehow staying safe if you never acknowledge your demons. But she looks - hands pulling and feet kicking at the floor to give more space as it stood tall before them. Teeth bared, glimmering in the moonlight to sink in through small gaps before it crushes Jonathan, burying him in its heavy shadow. “Jonathan!” It’s mouth opens, ready to consume - ready to tear into his flesh and force his companions to bear witness to the horror. Autumn is left distressed at the thought. Overwhelmed as she takes in his fear, his pain as claws press firm into his chest. There's a momentary picture of her standing at his grave, body too mangled or nothing left to say goodbye to, and the never ending hurt of knowing she could have prevented it.

“No!”

The air is stolen from her - a force to pull and push against the beast with fallen and damaged objects moving along the floor, brushed aside to make way for something unseen. The hand of God. The hand of something otherworldly takes hold, sending its large body to crash into the wall before slipping down against the ratted sofa. There’s a shimmer of light to dance along its form, stretching outwards and leaving darkened flesh in its wake. The smell of death is overbearing and nauseating. A picture of charred hands desperately reaching beneath the door in hopes for safety moves to the front of her mind. A memory of an unknown tale - or a haunting story conjured up from stress. With Jonathan free, she becomes the easy target. There are no eyes to shine in the frantic flicker of Christmas lights, yet she feels them ripping through her. Focus locked on the girl, unwavering as bullets plant themselves in rotten flesh. It knows her - remembers the smell of the first drop of blood stolen as it scarred skin. The boy is long forgotten as it creeps along the ground, never daring to look away until the gun unloads into the side of its face. Now that attention is elsewhere, Autumn takes hold of the ax once more and pushes herself up onto trembling legs, fighting through the disturbance in her mind. With a wide swing, the weapon digs deep into its shoulder - a cry of pain shaking the foundation beneath them before it swings back in defense. It’s like a car wreck - the two making contact, leaving the girl breathless and aching as her body is thrown to the side, a cloudy view of the damage all around. She waits for the end as heavy footsteps rattle the wall behind her. Then, there’s agony. Its cry is ear piercing as Steve embeds long nails into its torso again, and again. She wants to reach for him, drag him back out into safety but each subtle shift in weight has hot, burning pain rushing through.

He’s slipping away from her sight - beating the monster onto a set path down the hall. “He’s in the trap!” Jonathan is quick to stand, shaking off the unsettling feeling to have come so close to his untimely end, and chases after the other man's voice. Screams of pain are quick to flood the home, smoke spilling out from the hallway as it burns alive - then nothing. No matter the heat to radiate, there’s a chill to ease its way across bruised skin, and she follows its trail into the void. It’s running - far into the nothingness to heal wounds, offering a sign of surrender for only tonight. The relief is just enough to allow a steadying breath to fill pained lungs, watching as life slowly makes its way back into the home - lights shining brightly with the threat now gone. She can’t help but wonder just how long this security would last from something so evil. In this life, and in her dreams as it came for the girl again, and again.

#steve harrington #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #stranger things #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington x original character #steve harrington slow burn #steve harrington angst #stranger things ff #steve harrington ff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction

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freetobeeyouandme · 5 months

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2 and 22 for writer asks!

hii! <3

2) How many fics did you work on this year? (They don’t have to be finished or published!)

Technically...11? Wow, that's more than I've ever worked on in a single year much less published 👀 but yeah! There's my 90k Fantasy AU that I wrote for the Byler Big Bang, then I wrote 7 one shots of Byler kissing for Bylerween (suprising fav was probably the vampire AU for day 6), and then three more fics that are as of yet unpublished, but one of which is another one shot (probably dropping later this month), one of which I gave up on after two days, and then my current WIP which is gonna be another long ass Byler Fantasy AU (Isekai edition)!!

22) Share an excerpt from your favorite scene

A favorite favorite scene is hard to decide on considering how much I wrote, but the stargazing scene at the end of Chapter 5 of my Byler Big Bang fic is definitely one of my faves because of the misunderstandings in it and it's one of the peak Will Byers sad boi hours moments and I do love to write a good yearning moment:

It sounds so easy when Mike says it, that Will wants to believe it. They’ll see each other again at the Yuletide. They’ll send letters and still remain friends, distance no match for their bonds. Things change, but that won’t be the end of it. Of them. Cold fingers brush against his, and Will should pull away but doesn’t. A repeat of that night on the tower. Mike had made promises to him then too, about what life would look like now that they were at school, and about how they’d show his less noble cousins by becoming the most powerful adventuring party that the land had ever seen. Will had felt lost in the wide halls of the Conclave’s school, like he wasn’t supposed to be there because he wasn’t born to power like the rest of his peers. Someone had made a mistake letting him enroll. Encouraging him to pursue magic instead of becoming his mother’s apprentice, eventually taking over her customers. But then Mike had come and promised him a future and a place in it, and Will, despite his better judgment, had believed him. He’d held onto Mike’s hand and curled into the other boy, not yet aware of the way his body and his heart would betray him as they hurtled towards adulthood. Not yet aware of how tenuous Mike’s promises were, of how futile Will’s attempts to cling to someone whom he would never be allowed to love the way he wanted to.

Fanfic Writer Ask Game

#oldfashionedmorphine #ask #ask game #still taking asks btw even if I replied to this one late lol

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circethesinner · 2 years

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the puppeteer ✿ it's here - chapter 11 ✿

pairing: steve harrington x original female character (can be read as x reader)

warning(s): strong language, descriptions of violence, mature themes

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As soon as they'd pulled up to the station, Bambi had spotted the cop she'd elbowed earlier that day through the window. Fortunately, he appeared to be alone.

"Give me a sec," She told the other two in the car with her.

Leaving Eleven behind with the kids at the school had been tough, but she'd given her another huge hug and a kiss on the head and promised she'd only be gone for a little while, and she'd be back for her as soon as possible.

Bambi reached out and made a connection with the cop whose name Bambi remembered to be Callahan. His mind was incredibly easy to get into. Some people had tougher minds, they took a lot of strength and effort to break into and control, but with people like Callahan, it was almost pathetic how easy it was.

With no time to waste, she stood up and walked directly to Hopper's office, where she collected the box of gear they'd purchased. On her way out, she paused and grabbed the fire extinguisher as well. Being in the body of a grown man, it was significantly easier to carry both things at once than it would have been in her body.

She walked straight to Jonathan's car, where she opened the back door and placed the box and fire extinguisher in the back seat next to her vacated body.

"Anything else?" She asked Nancy and Jonathan as she leant down. They exchanged wary looks and shook their heads. With a final nod, Bambi walked back to the station and sat down in the seat she'd found Callahan in and left his mind, dragging the past three minutes back with her. He'd remember nothing.

Back in her own body, Bambi pulled the tissue Jonathan had given her earlier that day out and wiped the blood from her nose.

"He was so easy to get into. Usually, there's a little bit of a pushback from people as their thoughts kind of push me out, but it was like cutting through butter with that man," Bambi chuckled as she stuffed the tissue back into her pocket. "Seriously, it's like he's never had a single thought a day in his life. Usually, I can only control someone for about five minutes, but I could have gone a whole hour in that head of his, I swear."

"And he won't remember anything?" Nancy asked, looking back at her.

"Not a thing," Bambi nodded. "Honestly, I'm surprised he even remembers his own name, and that's without me interfering with anything."

━━━━━━━✿━━━━━━━

The trio made quick work of screwing the bulbs back into the fairy lights and setting up the bear trap for the monster the kids had referred to as the 'Demogorgon', a term Bambi recognised from the few sessions of Dungeons & Dragons she'd gotten a chance to participate in with a group of people back at school. Bambi fought away the yearning to be back there, playing as her Cleric Elf character, where her biggest concern was trying to convince the other players that she was totally not in a cult while simultaneously trying the entire campaign to get them to join the thing that was totally not a cult. Life had been easier back at home.

But now, instead of fighting little monster figurines where you could leave your fate in your dice, she was fighting an actual horrifying monster who was very hungry for blood.

The plan was to lure the Demogorgon there and trap it in the bear trap, then set it on fire. There were flaws in their plan, but it was the best they could come up with, given their resources and time limit. If push came to shove, Bambi would try and control the monster's mind. She hoped push wouldn't come to shove since she already felt a little weak after using her powers twice that day following her long stretch of barely using them at all, but she was prepared in case it did come to that.

Bambi had a croquet mallet that the Byers had lying around in their shed, and Jonathan had done the honours of hammering nails into the head of it so it would pack a harder punch. It wasn't an ideal weapon, but she'd reiterated how shit of a shot she was with a gun, and they only had one baseball bat, so it would do. Bambi was just reinforcing the stick with as much duct tape as she could wrap around it, worried that the force she'd have to swing it at would just snap it if she weren't careful.

The smell of gasoline stuck in Bambi's throat. If the anxiety wasn't making her stomach churn, then that certainly was. But she had no time to dwell on that. It was time to execute their plan.

"Remember-" Jonathan started.

"Straight into Will's room, and-" Nancy continued.

"Don't step on the trap." Bambi finished.

"Wait for the yo-yo to move," Nancy added.

"Then..." Jonathan flicked his lighter. "All right. You both ready?" Bambi and Nancy both nodded in confirmation. They all drew their knives to their palms, having decided earlier that it was easier for them to all go ahead and draw blood. The more blood, the better the chances it would lure the monster to them. "On three... One... two... You two don't have to do this-"

"Jonathan, stop talking," Nancy interrupted.

"We're all in this together," Bambi sighed. She wanted to get this over with.

"I'm just saying, you guys don't have to-" Jonathan protested again.

"Three!" Nancy interrupted again, and together they sliced their hands and let the blood drip onto the floor. That would be a nasty stain to clean up later, but then again, the fire damage would probably be a hell of a lot worse. She'd have to offer to help Joyce fix up the house again if she made it out alive.

They sat down and bandaged their hands up as they waited. Bambi was in charge of that. She'd once taken the memory of a first-aid course one of the scientists back at the lab had taken in college. Fortunately, it had gone unnoticed, and it had been quite humorous to see the scientist fumble over trying to wrap a bandage around another scientist's arm a few months later. Bambi had a feeling the skill would be required once she was out, and now she was thankful that she had taken it.

Outside, the wind caused something to creak softly. Every sound put them on edge, Nancy in particular. Bambi couldn't blame her. She'd just found out the monster had killed her best friend. It was only natural for her to be more on edge.

"Did you hear that?" Nancy asked, looking around.

"I'm pretty sure it was just the wind," Bambi mumbled, though she still felt uneasy.

"Don't worry." Jonathan's voice was shaky, a contradiction to the words he'd just said. "My mom, she said the lights speak when it comes."

"Speak?" Nancy asked. Bambi felt a little better as she imagined the lights all chiming out 'the monster is here!' in tiny little voices.

"Blink." Jonathan corrected. "Think of them as alarms." Bambi finished wrapping up Jonathan's hand and pretended again not to notice when Nancy had picked it up afterwards. She understood why Steve thought the two may have been in a relationship behind his back. There was definitely some sort of chemistry there that made Bambi feel incredibly awkward as the third wheel.

As if her thoughts had summoned him, Steve's voice suddenly called out from the door as he banged on it, causing quite the fright amongst the three teens.

"Jonathan? Are you there, man? It's- it's Steve!" The trio cast concerned looks at one another. Steve had to get the hell out of there and do it fast. "Listen, I just want to talk!" Nancy got up to answer the door.

"Steve, listen to me." She told him. He tried to protest, but she stopped him from getting too far. "You need to leave."

"I'm not trying to start anything, okay?" Steve denied.

"I don't care about that," Nancy told him firmly. "You need to leave."

"No, no, no! Listen, I messed up, okay? I messed- I messed up. Okay? Really. Please. I just want to make things right. Okay? Please. Please-" Steve begged. Bambi almost felt sorry for him... Almost. "Hey, what happened to your hand? Is that blood?"

"Nothing!" Nancy tried to brush it off. "It was an accident."

"Shit. Here we go...." Bambi whispered, quiet enough for only Jonathan to hear. She stood up to stand behind Nancy at the door. She hadn't opened it enough for Steve to see her.

"What's going on?" Steve asked as Nancy tried to tell him that nothing was going on. "Wait a sec. Did he do this to you? Nancy, let me in!"

"No! No, Steve!" Nancy tried to push him away, but Steve barged past and came tumbling through the door, directly into Bambi, who stumbled back and rubbed her head which she'd hit on his jaw.

"Motherfucker!" Bambi cursed, glaring at him. He looked apologetic for a second before he looked around the house at the shitshow they'd set up.

"What is- What the-" Steve stammered. Bambi pushed on his chest to try and get him to walk backwards and leave.

"Okay, pretty boy, time to get out," She rolled her eyes, but he pushed her hand away.

"What is all-" Steve started to ask again. Jonathan took over, trying to get him to leave. He was a lot more forceful than Bambi had been.

"You need to get out of here." Jonathan tried to push him away, but Steve fought him off. "Listen to me. I'm not asking you. I'm telling you, get out of here!"

"What is that smell?" Steve asked, taking a few more steps into the room. "Is that- is that gasoline?" Bambi turned her head as she heard a gun cock.

"Steve, get out!" Nancy was holding a gun to Steve. Bambi felt a swirl of emotions. She was impressed Nancy had the guts to do that, but she was also fucking terrified that something would go wrong, and then they'd end up with a dead teen boy on their hands as well as a monster.

"Wait! What?" Steve shouted. He looked terrified. No doubt his life was flashing before his eyes. Based on the fact that Bambi could somehow smell his hairspray over the smell of gasoline, she assumed it was at least 50% made up of him styling his hair. "What is going on?"

"You have five seconds to get out of here," Nancy demanded.

"Okay, is this a joke? Stop!" Steve held his hands out in self-defence, not that they'd stop a bullet. "Put the gun down."

"I'm doing this for you." As Nancy spoke, the lights started flashing.

"Right on fucking time!" Bambi groaned as Jonathan tried to get Nancy's attention, but she was lost in her own world as she counted down the time Steve had left to get out.

"Nancy! The lights." Jonathan managed to catch her attention, and she brought the gun down, looking around to confirm. "It's here." Jonathan lunged to grab his bat as Bambi jumped over the coffee table to get her mallet, she knocked a glass over, but that was the least of her worries. Nancy and Jonathan circled around, back to back, as they looked for any sign of the monster. Bambi did her best to get in front of Steve, but she had no idea where the monster would be coming from, so she had no idea what direction she needed to protect him from.

"Hello? Will someone, please explain to me what the hell is going-" Steve was interrupted as the monster emerged from the corner of the room. Bambi grabbed Steve's arm while Nancy tried to shoot at it, though it seemed to be unbothered by the bullets as it dropped down from the ceiling.

"Go! Go! Run! Go!" Jonathan shouted as he led the way. Bambi didn't need to be told twice as she dragged Steve along behind them, shouting at him to jump over the bear trap.

He may have been an ass, but there was no way she was about to let him die... Hopefully.

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enemies to lovers but it's just bambi deciding steve is her enemy and he has no idea because him little head empty no thoughts sweet baby :)

likes are very much appreciated and I will give each and every one of you little kisses on the forehead for each comment you write :)

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taglist (let me know if you want to be added!)

@missyviolet123

#steve harrington #steveharrington #stranger things steve #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #strangerthings #fanfic #fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington x original character #steve harrington x reader

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11byers · 3 years

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Talk to us girl! What else do you have to say about El's arcs through the seasons and motherly love? I want to hear THIS content, f*ck all the ship wars!!

i’m so sorry this took actual months to reply to, i’m not gonna get into why just.... hi anon, ty for your patience 😭 tbh i'm not sure if i'm saying anything new, but this is almost 3k words long so hopefully i'm offering something

a few things to note before i delve into everything, bc this is a gendered topic:

el identifies w femininity, even after being raised in a lab w just a number as a name, essentially raised w/o any real gender constructs set in place, or at least not enough to understand gender fundamentally. but she identifies w femininity, as seen in the way she gravitates to feminine symbols in her surroundings. and it's interesting how her relationships w female characters are always given a bit of attention

the way fathers are portrayed on this show is... notable. we've got el's father figure brenner, as well as kali's relationship w brenner, steve's dad is apparently an asshole, ted is ted (not the worst but isn't much anyways), billy's dad been abusive his whole stay, lonnie is a danger to society, and hopper, although arguably redeemable and has been given more attention since he's a central character…… hasn't been the best all the way through. lucas' dad was p alright and dustin……… doesn't have one 🙃

meanwhile we got joyce who's the best parent in this entire show PERIOD absolutely beautiful amazing talented show-stopping etc etc, there's karen who almost slept w a minor but made a last minute decision not to (karen is a work in progress and i have a lot of thoughts about her i'm not gonna get into), dustin's mom is cute (a bit dopey but cute), lucas' mom is also cute, billy's mom is practically portrayed as an angel, and terry……… poor poor terry.

anyways there's a very clear difference.

st1

the topic of el and motherhood doesn’t really get tackled until st2, but i'm gonna go through this season by season. bc, spoiler alert, i'm fairly certain joyce will be el's mother/mother figure once the show's wrapped up. we can even say that's already happened after st3's ending, but ofc we're still in need of more personal relationship development.

basically, i believe el's relationship w motherhood, and her idea of mothers has a lot to do w joyce.

joyce is essentially el's "standard" (for lack of a better term) for what a mother is supposed to be.

someone might have to correct me on this, but i like to think that joyce is the first example of motherly love that el truly experiences (other than briefly seeing terry in the lab). not even when they first meet tho, but when the boys sneak el into the school and she "channels" will through the p.a. system.

when she hears joyce trying to comfort will and tell him to hide (which in itself messes me up bc depending on your take on the demogorgon, that shit is heart wrenching), i can only imagine what el might be thinking. what will has in joyce is completely different from what el has in brenner 😭

el's (as well as the show's tbh) view of fathers are very different from her view of mothers. fathers are demanding, ruthless, and cold. but she sees joyce, and she thinks mothers are passionate, caring, and protective, and all of that translates through a p.a. system when el hears joyce's desperation. i'm sure el sees a lot of herself in will - his fear and desperation, his terror of being in the upside down, describing it as cold and dark, just like the chamber brenner locks her in, or even the void, the water tank, her own room even - which only makes joyce's impression on her so much stronger.

and in ep7 'the bathtub' when el gets to have a one-on-one w joyce, there are certain points in that scene that parallel her and brenner, and i think that only hammers home el's idea of what mothers are and what they should be.

joyce promises her a presence. joyce is able to be there for her, comfort her, even when el is in a place like the void, that's just emptiness and darkness all around. she hears joyce's voice, and for once she's not alone. and it's nice to think she's w joyce and will in these moments, when she's in castle byers and she can act as a connection to will and joyce (a-and jonathan, sorry i don't really mention him throughout this piece, i didn't even expect to mention will this much, but jon's important too, we love a parental big brother).

it's shown how scared el can be moment to moment. the second will fades from her, she cries for him and curls up into a ball, and once she's out of the upside she latches onto joyce - and gosh the dependability!! joyce is there for her just like she promised.

this makes el meeting her own mother fuking heartbreaking.

st2

this idea of a mother sticks w el this whole time, and her idea of fathers doesn't get any better. i don't think el even pictures hopper as any kind of father figure, definitely not yet, but as a "friend," hence her shouting at him "friends don't lie". it's not until they're fighting and she shouts "you are like papa!" that it all comes full fuking circle!!

(it's the way hopper leaves her alone for hours, like how brenner isolates her in a dark chamber. it’s how in both instances, she’s still isolated from society. it's the way hopper sets rules for her that don’t allow to act instinctively on her own. it's him telling her "you wanna go back in the lab? i can make that happen." it's damaging shit. it's triggering.)

then el finds out that hopper lies to her again, but this time it's about her mother, which……..

that scene of her breaking down, crying for her mama, is so sad. idk what else to say, everything that happens from this point on is sad!!!!!!!

fast forward to el reaching terry and becky's house. i can't even imagine what el feels when she meets her mom for the first time……… and terry is in the state that she's in. barely responsive.

but i can say how el's guilt is continuously brought up time and time again, bc when she sees terry's memories and sees how determined terry was to get her back, the lengths she went through - it's all just like joyce. her expectations of a mother stays intact.

only, unlike joyce and will, things don't work out in the end for el and terry. terry suffers for trying to get el back. and it wouldn’t be surprising if that fed into el’s guilt.

(also, this has bothered me ever since first watch, but terry is portrayed w a bit of hostility when el returns. when el meets her in the void, and she's says she's home, terry tells her "no" and grabs her arm, triggering terry's memories. it's lead me to ask myself if terry holds resentment for el, and for the price terry had to pay....... or maybe it was just for dramatic scary horror, i’m not entirely sure.)

there's this moment right after el comes out of the void and back into reality, and becky tries to comfort her. bc of terry's unavailability, it's a possibility that becky could've been the mother figure that el needed. but the awkwardness in this moment - in how terry tries to comfort el, but el is still visibly shook and doesn't hug back, unlike her moment w joyce in st1, when el practically clings to her - kinda foreshadows how things just aren't gonna work out so ideally.

this next bit regarding el avenging terry may or may not be a lil "out there" but i think it's interesting to think about.

el views finding kali as something terry wants her to do. and kali echoes that sentiment. kali essentially acts as this one last tether el has to terry, which may be why she thinks of kail as a sister.

i have a lot of thoughts about el's self worth, her morality, her means of protecting others no matter what she suffers. i’m not about to go on a tangent, but just to get the main idea out there: el straddles a line between viewing herself as a monster and viewing herself as a protector, and anything outside of that feels is out of her reach.

what kali gives her is a chance to sorta explore that monstrous side of herself - the side that is willing to hurt others, even when there's no one in immediate danger to protect.

but kali is her last tether to her mother. and what kali is asking her to do clashes w what she pictures a mother is meant to do. i'm not saying kali is some kind of mother figure, nor is that really the bigger picture. but finding kali is something terry "told" her to do. it all plays a part in the scene when they confront the man that followed brenner's orders, ray carrell.

would terry actually want this for el?

el sees a photo of that ray and his daughters, and reminds herself of what she wants, what she yearns for, and what she's been deprived of. the reason why she feels so much pain, and is having so much trouble healing. and she chooses to protect the children - to prioritize the children - instead of giving in to the monster inside of her planted by brenner.

kali has different values. she's chosen a different path for herself. we're never really sure what kali knows about her own past, who she's met in her life, but we do know that she's lost people, and she doesn't have much of a connection to terry despite el considering her a sister.

and that comes full circle when kali makes el see brenner.

the words brenner uses here are technically just kali's words, since she told el the same things and brenner in this scene is just an image created by kali. but that's what makes this scene so brilliant. this scene is kali talking to el, but she’s masked as brenner.

brenner tells people they're sick. kali still believes she's sick. kali hasn't healed despite claiming to - instead she's become a mirror to brenner.

this is el's view of fatherhood: demanding, ruthless, and cold. brenner hurt el, and bc of all that hardship, el is in danger of becoming a mirror to brenner. and unfortunately, this is what kali has succumbed to. kali has failed to realize the monster she's so convinced that she is, is a concept completely fabricated by brenner.

this is what leads el back to her friends. just like how terry did everything in her power to save el and suffered devastating consequences, el returns to her friends to wholeheartedly put herself in that very position.

it's so touching to see el and joyce hug. although, joyce is still "will's mom" to el (she even refers to her as such in st3). but she still holds that connection to the byers family. el still prioritizes will's safety, just as she prioritized the kids back in chicago.

now to briefly cover what el and hopper's reconciliation means for this topic - it's a very vulnerable scene. one of the most vulnerable scenes in the entire show. el and hopper allow themselves to understand and relate to each other, through guilt and trauma and emotion, and bc of the profound impact of this conversation, hopper is…… enough. it’s still uncertain that el considers hopper as a father figure, but at this point she lost her mother, and she lost kali, and hopper lost sarah. they have each other though. and it gives both of them the chance to finally begin to heal.

el channels the anger she feels being deprived of a mother to close the gate. but the gate's essentially a scar still struggling to heal.

st3

it may be a mystery to no one that i'm not a big fan of st3, and there's not a lot to talk about in terms of el and joyce. couple notes about them tho, before we get into the real shit that happened this season

hopper asks if joyce could talk to el and mike for him, which she turns down, so they're deliberately being kept apart by the writers (i also feel like we have v limited knowledge of what joyce thinks of el, so she might be keeping her distance for reasons i'm not really sure of yet).

it's cute to think about how hopper's letter isn't just hopper's letter, but it's joyce's letter to el as well. el just doesn't know it.

let's talk about billy's mom.

el's relationships w female characters on this show always seem to be given a lil extra layer. and el's immediate draw towards billy's mom is so charming to watch. she calls her "pretty" and feels as if she's is looking at her, all before she even finds out who the woman is.

once again, the standard for motherhood on this show is enforced by billy's mom and her literal angel-like presence. she's good to billy, she allows him the freedom of doing what he loves, but not before warning him that dad might get mad!! great!!

billy goes through very similar phases that el went through

his father is abusive, and hurts both billy and the mother

billy loses his mom

the lack of proximity to his mom eventually leads him to mirror the toxicity of his father

the moments that el seems to recognize rather quickly are when billy's dad is being abusive, billy desperately wanting his mom to come home, and billy quickly succumbing to toxicity.

we've explored this pattern in previous seasons, so it's pretty easy to piece together, even within a quick montage.

so when el has her moment w billy, reminding him of his mom, it's so incredibly powerful. when you think about how much this moment upon, after everything that happened in the previous 2 seasons, it just hits.

just as we've discussed how motherhood throughout the show has meant prioritizing the safety of the ones you care about and protecting them against all odds, billy protects el from the mind flayer to the point of self sacrifice.

(and while i may not agree that it completely works just bc of how i feel about billy as a character, it works to tie in all these themes really well. also i'm sure there's other kinds of readings you can do on this scene, i even thought about this scene completely differently a couple months back but ANYWAYS-)

honestly, the way el comforts max in this scene...... feels kinda motherly. there's definitely something to be said about how el's not always treated as just a child - despite still learning speech, she's still been forced to grow up in other aspects of herself, and she constantly puts herself in a position to protect others. but this scene w el and max is sweet, and it's nice that max has el for that moment before el eventually moves away w the byers.

and ofc, el loses hopper this season, which in her mind leaves her parentless. joyce is there regardless (tho joyce taking over for hopper and watching over el does kinda happen in a "no explanation needed" kinda way, and i'm not really sure how i feel about that).

joyce and el have still quite a ways to go before really developing the mother-daughter relationship that feels inevitable at this point. and after hopper's death, the way this season ended, and the way joyce and el interact, there's a bit of uncertainty as to how their relationship will develop. even after the 3 month jump, they come off as rather distant from each other.

nut yeah, i'm excited for st4. after engaging in all the ship wars, and having my own gripes w how the duffers write romance, i think i'm starting to fall back in love w this show. writing this has definitely made me feel happier about the show, and made me feel excited about certain aspects of the show that might've been in the back of my mind, but now it's all at the forefront.

i really do love el as a character, and joyce might be a very close second, if not at the same level as el. their stories have been leading towards each other since the beginning and i can't wait until we get the payoff.

i hope someone reads this lol. again i’m sorry this took months......... depression uh anon, i hope this is what you wanted 😂 and if anyone feels compelled to add on feel free to do so 😊………. hopefully it's positive lol

#hopefully this ends up in the tags bc wow this is long and i wanna know other peoples thoughts!!#stranger things #st meta #el hopper #joyce byers #kali #op tag #anonymous

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howtobecomeadragon · 9 months

Text

I love this little moment.

mike has been anxiously pacing, will is sitting there anxiously drumming his fingers. mike rests for a moment and will turns to stare at his tense back.

they haven't talked since their fight yet. mike called him a douche, spat into his face that they were just friends, suggested that it was will's fault that they haven't been in touch (which will knows is partially true and the guilt and the knowing why is wriggling in his gut). they were awkward over breakfast, mike not even looking at him. will kept thinking 'maybe if I look at him enough, maybe if he feels my eyes on him, then he'll look back. we've been best friends for ten years, all I need is for him to see me and then we can fix this.' and will wants to be seen, he wants it more than anything, for mike to look at him, and see, and understand. sometimes he feels like his secret is splashed all over his face for everyone to see, especially mike. how can he not know when will keeps looking at him, keeps looking at him like that? will doesn't get it. but mike never seems to catch on so will let's himself keep looking, in the hopes that maybe mike will look back and see someday.

he keeps looking, trying to see, trying to understand mike too. mike is so upset about el being gone, and will gets it. mike loves her, he said that last summer in front of everyone, he yelled it. he loves her so of course mike is worried about el. they're in love, they've been stuck to each other's sides since mike landed. that's why he came, that's what el even said: "I want this day to be about you and me." will heard that and stood back all day. he felt like he was pushed out, but he just wants el and mike to be happy, so maybe he can convince himself he stood back bravely, instead of holding back tears all day. he stood back and even though mike was rude to el at dinner the night before, they talked after breakfast, so will decides to still stand back. it's not his place to comfort mike now, even when el is gone, even when mike needs someone to talk to. will wants to lay a hand on mike's shoulder and say something to calm him down, but that's too much, they just fought, and what's mike going to say? that they're barely still friends, that he needs to get el back? will knows that, that's his sister.

that's his sister. the guilt worms its way in further. and will sits still. and stares.

he'll sit back silently and just stare until mike tells him that he wants something else, needs something else. he can wait.

#will byers yearning hours #byler

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byler3is9jesus4 · 3 years

Text

BJAKSBKJAS something I wrote as a s4 flashback with Lonnie and Brenner thank you you're welcome

January 1972

.....

MARTIN BRENNER is sitting at his black and silver desk, overlooking some paperwork.

He looks like he's in his late 20’s, and has a long face, blonde hair and black reading glasses.

He starts to write on a piece of paper and then suddenly the door bursts open making Brenner shooketh.

*BOOM*

Martin's eyes widened, seeing his friend, or should I say ex-friend LONNIE BYERS, Standing at the door holding an infant.

Mar puts his reading glasses on his forehead.

“Heyyy, old friend can you watch Will while I run some errands?”

“W-what?!”

“Yeah, just for an hour.”

“Woah, woah, woah so you show up here and ask for a favor out of nowhere?”

“...yeah pretty much.”

“No, i can't believe you! You want me to watch that- thing that you created.”

“Mhm.”

Silence.

Mar walks back to his desk and sits in his chair, sorting through papers and not taking another look at Lonnie.

“It's been years since i've seen you. Don’t know how you have the nerve to ask me to do something like-”

“Thanks Mar, I owe you a ton!”

The door shuts, and Brenner’s mouth is hanging open and stiffly shifts his gaze towards Will, sitting on a small singular couch.

Will is looking at the door, with a scared and confused facial expression.

“That son of a bitch.” Martin whispers.

He gets out of his chair and walks toward the tiny thing that Lonnie left.

Slapping his hands on the sides of his hips he says:

“Umm, guess I'm watching you then?”

Will blinks, and Mar makes a real life

😐

Brenner bends down and looks at the baby.

“So you’re Will huh?”

Will leans forward and grabs the black glasses off of Martin’s head, making him have a 😣🤨 face.

He puts the glasses in his mouth and plays with them, and Mar parts his lips and blinks multiple times in ‘r you serious’.

time skip cuz my mom about to get that metal chancla on me and i'm writing this backward sO-

3 HOURS LATER:

“Will, your dad is such a goddamn idiot.”

Baby Will smacks his hands on Brenners mouth like he knew he cursed in front of him.

Brenner looks a little shocked.

“Right, I should watch my language around you.”

Will focus’ on his face with his eyes wide and pokes Martin's cheek. He moves his face slightly trying to get away from the baby’s hand. Will, as the sassy baby he is, grabs Brenners face forcely and giggles.

“Why are you laughing?!”

Will suddenly looks calmer, bUT he wraps his arms around his shoulders and puts his face directly on Brenners neck, Martin looks down confused, and Will has a mischievous look on his face.

“Wait what are you-”

“GAHSHAKBSJKABSKJAKJS”

Will blows raspberries on his neck, triggering a lovely laugh/scream we would have never thought to hear coming out of Brenners mouth.

Will laughs hysterically, but then pulls his hands back and coos, (BAJKSBJKABSJ THIS IS SO CUTE) and rests his head on Brenners shoulder.

“Are you tired?” he says looking down on his left shoulder

Will gives him that mischievous face once again, and Brenner notices.

“NO NOT AGAIN YOU LITTLE SHI-”

He places Will down on the couch, and the tiny human makes the expression:

Brenner smiles at Will and whispers-

“Don’t think im not gonna do anything about it…..”

He stays still, but then moves at the speed of light and pulls up the baby’s shirt and blows wet raspberries on his stomach. Will laughs and screams like hell and Mar, obviously says:

“GOT YA.”

Will breathes heavily and Brenner makes a move making him look like he's going for another round, and Will freaks out and pushes Martin's head down hard.

“Ow. Your one strong itty bitty thing.” He says muffled against the couch.

Will lets him go and Brenner picks him up, and sits him up in a swirly work chair.

(yall know what i'm talkin bout right)

Martin gets down on his knees and looks like he's deep in thought. He's going through expressions like:

🥺😟😔🙂

Will tilts his head, and leans forward and falls off the chair, but Brenner catches him before he hits the floor.

“Jeez, be careful.”

He puts Will’s back against the flat desk drawer and lays down on his stomach.

Mar holds up his neck/chin with his hands and his elbows are against the ground.

Looking at Will, he’s reminded of everything that happened between him and Lonnie, and makes a sad and yearning expression.

Will stares, and all of a sudden (THIS BABEY IS SO FOKIN WISE) he grabs Brenners beard-less cheeks and pulls his big-ass head toward his small body. He embraces Martin's head tightly and Brenner smiles sympathetically.

The door swings open, and babey Will softly unwraps his hands from Mar's head while Mar looks up to see who it is.

Lonnie’s walking in slowly with his eyebrows raised and he looks visibly confused.

“Oh uh, hey.” Martin says as he picks up the baby who is looking at his dad.

“Hi, sorry i'm late, I got caught up with Jonathan. I had to show him something.”

“Oh, ok.”

“I didn't bother you, did i? Doing your sciency nerd shit or whatever.”

Brenner gives him a look, and Will’s waiting for him to respond to his dad's words.

“No, you didn't bother me and what i'm doing isn't ‘nerdy’ or…” He signals to Will, with a ‘he's here so i'm not saying the word ‘shitty’ expression.

“He’s just a baby, it's not like he understands what we're saying.” Lonnie says like he's speaking to a dummy.

“Yeah? Well in my opinion i think he's pretty smart for a 10 month old.” He says as he hands Will over to Lonnie.

“Really. Well anyway i gotta get going.”

There is silence in the room for a couple seconds and Will starts to fiddle with his dad's golden necklace.

(Gesturing to Will) “You wanna keep him?”

“Excuse me?”

“It's just a joke. Anyway i gotta get going Joyce is going to kill me.”

Martin mutters under his breath “It’ll be nice if she did.”

“Huh?”

“Oh nothing.”

“Alright, uh i guess. Bye.”

“Bye.”

The way Lonnie is holding Will, the baby is looking back at Brenner, and he smiles and waves cutely.

Martin raises his eyebrows and hesitantly waves back.

*click*

The door closes, and they’re gone.

Brenner goes and sits back at his desk, opening a locked drawer with a silver key.

There's pictures, paper and a small velvet box.

He grabs the box and sets the top down, revealing a strikingly similar necklace to the one Lonnie was wearing.

It's silver, and has the name “Mar” carved in the center.

He smiles, looks up at the ceiling and takes an exhausted sigh.

#lonnie byers #martin brenner #stranger things #stranger things 4 #villians in love we stan #flashbackz #will byers

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thephantomofthe-internet · 4 years

Text

Read into Me Chapter 5: Romeo and Juliet

Steve Harrington x Reader

CATCH UP ON THE SERIES HERE

Words: 2,955

Warnings: Swearing, slut shaming, bullying mention

Tag List: @divinity-deos @thecaptainsgingersnap @wolfish-willow @scoopsohboi @herre-gud-nej @clockworkballerina @maddie1504 @i-am-trash-so-much-its-scary @banjino-in-the-hole @buckysarge @wildcvltre @stanleyyelnatsiii @unusuallchildd @n3wtscaseofniffler5 @peterparxour @alwaysstressedout @linkispink1995 @asharpkniffe @a-big-ball-of-idk @used-avocado @mochminnie @sledgy14 @the-creative-lie @yall-wildin-like-siriusly @ggclarissa

After that afternoon, you spent practically every day after school with Steve, either in his bedroom or the library. It was weirdly nice. You didn’t always talk; mostly you worked in silence, Steve answering English questions or doing work for other classes and you doodling. You’d finished the sketch of Steve you’d started in his bedroom the same night you’d started it. You were actually quite proud of it; you’d managed to get the shadows on his face to make his face look hollow and strange, not beautiful like it usually appeared. And yes, you were comfortable with calling him beautiful. You found a lot of your subjects beautiful, they all fit into an easy collection of strong, attractive faces that could be found in Hawkins. Hawkins Most Beautiful: the collections of portraits labelled themselves.

Steve called you fairly often as well; usually on the days when you didn’t meet up he’d call so he’d have someone to keep him company as he worked. He seemed lonely to you. From your conversations, you learned little of his supposed friends, but you learned a fair bit about his family. Both his parents were rarely home. His father worked in the city and kept an apartment there, keeping him as far away from home as possible most of the time. His mother was home more often, but kept her hours in certain places, leaving him home alone most of the time. So it seemed, he was ignored past the age of twelve. You sympathized with that, your own parents weren’t exactly present, albeit for different reasons. He asked you a lot about Samantha, which didn’t bother you; you could talk about her far more than you could yourself.

“I can’t honestly say that I even really know her…” Steve laughed. You were sat in his bedroom one evening, the sun setting in creamy red swirls, ominous strawberry pieces in homemade ice cream. Sweet and yet worrying for reasons beyond you for the time being. You were sat at his desk, leaning back in his desk chair, turning left and right. Steve was sprawled out on his mattress, feet kicking beyond him casually, his papers spread out in front of him.

“Yeah, she doesn’t really associate with some of your friends. Tina isn’t really our biggest fan…” you replied, smiling softly. The memory of Samantha dumping a miniature carton of chocolate milk on her head in the seventh grade flashed through your mind, her shrill screech making you chuckle.

“Oh yeah? What’s up her ass?” Steve asked, turning onto his side to look at you fully. He looked incredibly posed and uncomfortable, his head placed in his palm and his ankles stacked neatly one on top of the other.

“They used to be best friends, before I showed up. Once I was on the scene, Tina decided that I was someone to bully and Samantha decided that she wanted to be my friend. They fell out because of it and Tina started bothering both of us. She stopped once we were in middle school.” You explained, pulling one of your knees to your chest.

“Tina’s a bitch…” Steve muttered, shaking his head solemnly.

“She’s got such a thing for you.” You chuckled, watching as his face coloured. You continued “Vicki too…they want you so bad.”

“How’d you know?” Steve scoffed, rolling his eyes dramatically. His face was still pink, it was almost adorable.

“Oh my god, they spend every class with their heads so far up your ass!” you linked your fingers together and pulled them under your chin. You batted your lashes at him with wide eyes, starting into an imitation of Tina “Oh…Stevie, tell me more about your basketball game…oh Stevie you’re soooo strong!”

Steve pulled the pillow from the head of his bed, throwing it at your head. “Oh shut up!” he groaned. You caught the pillow, chucking it back at him, smacking him square in the face.

Steve was great to hang out with. But that sort of friendship didn’t seem to transition outside the privacy of his bedroom. In school, the rules of social interaction began again. Steve returned to the arms of Tommy H and Carol, whose attentions flip between him and Billy Hargrove, and Samantha kept you busy with her questions, her arm wrapped tightly around your shoulders, squeezing you tightly into your side. And every time you passed Steve, she cracked a joke in your ear that turned you beet red.

In truth, it was clear that Samantha did not believe you when you told her that nothing was going on between the two of you. She had already decided that the pair of you were in some sort of torrid affair of Shakespearian depths. She seemed to earnestly believe that it was some secret, clandestine romance was happening behind closed doors. You didn’t really understand what she was imagining; it didn’t make sense to you. Steve was far too obviously interested in other people to be doing anything with you. You tried to point out all the girls who hung off his arm whenever she tried to embarrass you about it, but she didn’t see it.

“What you’re missing,” she said through a massive bite of cafeteria shepherd’s pie “Is that all those girls pay attention to him, but he doesn’t pay attention to them.”

“If we were having an affair, don’t you think that I would tell you about it? I tell you everything anyway.” You retorted, rolling your eyes at her.

“You didn’t tell me about Byers until I weaseled it out of you. That’s what I’m doing right now.” Samantha replied with a shrug, mushing her meal together with her plastic fork until it was a disgusting shade of brown, golden corn accenting the pile.

Talking about Jonathan Byers wasn’t fair and she knew it. In short, there was nothing to talk about. You’d had a small, teeny tiny practically nonexistent crush on the boy a year prior, but it was very clear that he didn’t like you back. Samantha had gone to Tina’s party in October, right as your crush was subsiding, and she’d told you that he was all over Nancy Wheeler. You’d had your suspicions about it, but hearing that he’d gone after someone else’s girlfriend and rejected you along the way hurt. Even though you weren’t interested, it still hurt. Samantha was still annoyed that you hadn’t told her about it until it was over, and since it was the only source of knowledge she had on your comatose love life, she brought it up all the time, much to your chagrin.

“All I do with him is sit in his room and help him study. And when I say help him study, I mean literally help him study, we do the chapter studies together and discuss the stupid book.” You said. That wasn’t the whole story; you talked a lot about life and listened to music. You were confident in saying that you were friends by now. You’d almost met his mother twice, both times in passing, and that seemed pretty important to friendships, when their family knew who you were. Still, it didn’t break into school. Steve stayed with his clique and while you tried to stray from yours, Carol or Tina would always scare you off before you spent too much time with Steve. It didn’t take much to scare you, a mere gaze could send you packing, and those two had been mastering the annoyed sneer since the fifth grade.

“Yeah, well you don’t see what I see…” Samantha muttered, turning her attention away from you and onto the loud clique at the centre of the room. Billy Hargrove was show boating, as usual, with Tina and Macy practically drooling onto their lunch trays. Vicki was trying to get Steve’s attention, her thin, spidery fingers gripping onto his wrists, speaking animatedly into his ear. Steve wasn’t facing her though; his whole body was turned away from her, and directly towards your table. Samantha noticed how he watched where you went, it’s why she thoroughly believed that something was going on beyond the surface, something even you might not realize. She knew what a person looked like when they were love struck. Often times, from the outside, it was easier to see when someone was in love with someone else before she could catch onto who actually liked her. She’d watched the women she yearned for fall in love with boring, lame men enough times to have mastered the signs of how men fall for girls. And Steve showed all the non-verbal signs. She couldn’t get a full read on you yet though.

Tommy had caught onto to Steve’s strange behaviour just as fast as Samantha had, although he wasn’t nearly as impressed. You were simply not worth the effort. Not by a long shot. You were fucking lame-never at the parties, never at dances, never at the lake on the weekends. And he knew you had money, you could afford to do all those things, you were just too much of a pussy to show your face. That was fucking pathetic! He knew his friend better than anyone else and a chick who couldn’t hang was not the girl for him. Steve liked fun girls, girls who could turn up for a last minute thing and not be weird about it. Nancy Wheeler was the farthest Steve needed to go on the preppy nerd scale, and that bitch ended up being a massive slut! Like nobody expected that shit. But Tommy knew that you didn’t have any surprises up your sleeves. Despite the fact that you never talked, he knew that you were plain about who you were. Everything was on the surface, and what he saw was not worth his friend’s time.

“Steve, buddy, I’m gonna go get another milk, walk with me.” Tommy motioned him over. Steve followed blindly, if only to get Vicki’s cold, clammy hand off him. Tommy had seen The Godfather one too many times and seemed to believe that he was some sort of small town mob boss, but Steve didn’t really mind following along with him flights of fancy. Usually they were pretty funny.

Tommy wrapped an arm around his taller friend’s shoulders, lowering his voice from the onlooker’s ears. “Listen, buddy, you gotta tell me what’s going up with that Y/N chick I mean you just keep staring at her it’s freaking weird, dude.”

“Y/N? She’s my writing partner for Lawrence’s class, she’s cool…” Steve replied, turning to catch your eye as they passed. He smiled at you, giving a short wave, which you returned with a small smile.

“She’s cool? That all?” Tommy pressed, stepping into the line and grabbing a carton of strawberry milk and the largest chocolate chip cookie in the basket. He unwrapped his arm from his shoulders, letting him go free for the first time in the conversation.

“Yeah, I mean she’s nice, what else do you want me to say?” Steve knew that was being a little defensive, but he didn’t like being questioned for his choices in friends or girls, he never questioned Tommy’s choices and he made the worst decisions most of the time. Carol was no prize and he didn’t say a word about her.

“You fucking her?” if Steve had had anything in his mouth, he would’ve spit it on the floor. Tommy didn’t even turn to look at him, paying the lunch lady in change.

“Jesus, dude, no.” Steve cried, recoiling from his friend. Tommy needed to get hit and while he didn’t have cause to do so yet, he firmly believed someone was going to do it soon.

“Hey, no need to freak out, it’s just a question.” Tommy pulled his friend back in, slapping his friend on the back. Instead of simply heading back to their lunch table, he pulled him to the side, standing next to the hot grab and go table, next to the cartons of fries.

“Now, the way I see it, you have something great going for you.” Tommy began, cracking open his milk and taking a long swig, leaving a milk film on his upper lip. “Vicki Clarke is a fucking babe and she’s begging for it! She’s all over your ass and she’s hot as hell! But you’re blowing it by spending all your time staring at some freak of nature instead. You could have a smoking hot babe at your beck and call, but you’re wasting your chances here, you see what I mean?”

“Not at all, dude.” Steve crossed his arms over his chest, looking over his friend doubtfully.

“Look man, I’m just trying to set you up for success here. Because that girl,” Tommy pointed at you slyly “Is not interested. If she was, she’d be over here, acting like Vicki is. But she’s keeping herself planted at that table with that goth freakazoid.”

Steve had no idea what to say. He opened his mouth to speak, to deny having any feelings for you, but that wouldn’t mean shit if he kept watching you. And Tommy was right, there was a girl there who wanted to listen to whatever he said, who chased him down. Vicki was there and you weren’t. So he swallowed his words and went back to his table.

“Hey, Steve…” Vicki drawled. There was red lipstick on her teeth. Steve didn’t say anything about it. It didn’t make her ugly. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, letting her rest in the crook of his neck. Vicki seemed over the moon by it and it gave him something to focus on other than catching your attention.

Samantha frowned, turning her attention back to you. “What’s Steve’s opinion on Vicki Clarke?” she asked.

“He didn’t like when I told him that she had a thing for him, why?” you retorted, flipping through the college magazine in front of you. You still hadn’t chosen anywhere to apply and applications for the major schools were due in the winter and community colleges needed their applications in for the fall semester in by the end of June at the earliest.

“Well, he doesn’t seem embarrassed now.” Samantha hooked a thumb towards the couple. You looked once, narrowing your eye to scrutinize the pair.

“Eh, that seems about right…” you murmured. You wouldn’t deny that something about it hurt. But you ignored the pain until returning home from school. As always, you called before making any moves. It was the polite thing to do, even though Steve had made the plans to meet up with you after school the night before.

The phone was picked up after three rings. Steve’s car was in the driveway, not his mother’s, so you knew who would answer. “Hello?” his voice sounded anxious and breathy, maybe even annoyed.

“Steve-o, we still studying? You wanna go grab food at Hula Burger?” Steve had introduced you to the burger place in Carmel, a little mom and pop shop with the best Cajun fries in the county, at least in your opinion.

“Oh shit…” Steve muttered “Y/N I’m sorry I-I kind of made plans, can I take a rain check on the burgers?”

“Oh…yeah, sure I guess…some other time…” you said softly. You wouldn’t try to hide the disappointment in your voice. The pain you felt in the pit of your stomach returned with abundance, not exactly sore and angry pain, but more of a black hole opening up there.

“I gotta go, I’ll see you tomorrow, ‘kay?” Steve asked. He was already running late. He was supposed to pick up Vicki in twenty minutes and he still needed to shower. He had genuinely forgotten about his plans with you and he felt like an ass for doing so. He did want to hang out with you, but a date was a good step after being decimated by Nancy. He wasn’t super into Vicki, but it was still exciting to go out with someone new.

“Sure…” you hung up after that. You stood from your bed, dropping your book bag at your feet. You were used to spending afternoons alone, that wasn’t strange to you. Just because you’d spent a few days with a boy didn’t mean that he was yours to hold back from his life. You could’ve pulled a fit and tried to make him hold true to his word, the way your mother used to act towards your father. But those memories made you sick, you didn’t like that behaviour. But you also didn’t like being cancelled on. It wasn’t a feeling you were used to, not from friends at least. Samantha never really cancelled on you, she always made sure to tell you when she was busy and not agree to plans. She’d never cancelled on you for a date, even when she was dating Keith the creep she always put your friendship on a different level than him. Of course, she wasn’t really into Keith, she came out like a week after they started dating and broke up with him after kissing Jessica Klein at a house party, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that Steve had ditched you and it made your heart hurt.

You couldn’t help but watch him run out of his front door and into his car. You watched it pull out of his driveway and out onto the road. It was clear to you now, Steve was more interested in passing English than he was in being your friend. Vicki Clarke was the girl to pay attention, no matter how he acted around you.

So why pretend like he was your friend at all?

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thepokyone · 6 years

Text

Finding Eleven Pt. 2

Pairing: Eventual Billy Hargrove x Reader

Content/Warnings: none

Words: 1401

A/N: I had a 2nd family emergency in a month last night and am therefor running on no sleep. I’m happy I had this done earlier. Probably the only thing you’ll get from me today besides maybe a headcanon or two, but we’ll see. Enjoy, everyone!

Series Masterlist

Part 2: The Tale of Joyce Byers

You walked across the street and pushed open the door to the store. A woman with reddish-brown hair greeted you with a smile. “Are you Joyce Byers?”

“I am,” She said. “Can I help you with anything?”

You tilted your head, surveying her for a moment before speaking, persuasion dripping from your tongue. “You can, actually. We need to talk.”

Joyce Byers stared at you, and your brow furrowed. Your statement should have warranted some sort of response - perhaps you were losing your edge? No, that didn’t seem to be it, because moments later she managed to stammer out a faint word. “N-now? I’m working, sweetheart, could you come back in an hour?”

Well, that was a first. No one had ever questioned you before. Then again, you hadn’t explicitly stated when you needed to speak with her. Just that it was necessary that you do so.

“I can come back in an hour,” You agreed after a beat of silence. “Is that when you get off?”

Her response was simple. “Yes.”

“Wait for me outside this store,” You ordered.

She gave you a slightly vacant smile and nodded. “Of course, sweetheart. Do you need anything else?”

“No.” With that, you turned on your heel and left the store. Though interrogating Joyce Byers was at the top of your to do list, there were several other things that needed to be taken care of as well. First and foremost, you had to find a place to stay. It was getting cold in Hawkins, and while you had survived the sub-zero winter temperatures there before, you had no desire to do so again.

You walked for a while, simply observing, and occasionally asking directions to the nearest foreclosed house. If there was one thing you had learned from years of being on the run, it was that foreclosed homes were usually a safe place to stay low. Nobody went looking there, other than the occasional teenager, and nobody wanted it.

It didn’t take very long for you to find a foreclosed home. It was a bit out of the way, not in a neighborhood, and when you glanced at your watch, you were pleased to see you still had a half hour before you had to meet Joyce. You jiggled the doorknob, hoping it was unlocked. It wasn’t.

Tilting your head, you stretched your mind outward, sensing the lock, turning it… moments later the lock clicked, and you pulled open the door.

You were five minutes late for your rendezvous with Joyce Byers. You felt kinda bad that you had left her to stand outside like some sort of weirdo, but you needed the information. You quickly ducked out of sight when you realized she was speaking to someone, and was just close enough to overhear their conversation.

“What are you doing out here, Joyce?” The man asked. He was middle-aged, probably somewhere in his 40s, with a scruffy beard. Most notably, he was a police officer.

“Just standing,” She said, shrugging.

He squinted at her. “Why?”

“I don’t know, Hop,” Joyce said, giving a half laugh. “I just feel like standing here, what’s so wrong about that?”

“It’s weird,” Hop said. “You sure you’re alright? You’re acting a bit… odd.”

Obviously, Joyce had lost her patience with him. “I said I’m fine, Hop! I think.”

“You think?” He repeated. “What the hell does that mean?”

“I… don’t know. I’m standing here, but I don’t know why, all I know is that I have to stand here,” Joyce said. “It’s like I’m waiting for someone, or something.”

“I’ll stand here with you, then,” The cop said. Shit.

Sighing, you stepped out from where you were hiding to walk over to Joyce. “Ms. Byers.”

“Hi again!” She said happily, before nudging Hop. “That’s who I was waiting for.”

“What do you want?” He snapped, a little harsher than probably necessary.

“Okay, that’s enough,” You sighed, narrowing your eyes. “I have traveled halfway across the country to find someone very important to me, and I will not be halted by some small-city cop. So you’re going to turn around, drive away, and forget about me and this conversation. Understand?”

For a moment, you thought he was fighting your control, but then his face took on the characteristic spacey look that indicated you had persuaded someone and nodded. “Alright kid. Alright. I’m goin’.” He then turned around and left.

“Wait, h-how did you do that?” Joyce demanded.

You glanced at her. “Do what?”

“Y-you told him to leave, a-and he just did. Hop never does that.” Her voice was steadily becoming stronger as she continued to speak. “So how did you do that?”

“Don’t worry about it,” You ordered, finally tearing your eyes away from the cop’s receding vehicle and training them back on Joyce. “Is there someplace private we can talk?”

“Y-yeah.” She was back to stammering again, once her dazed expression had cleared. “How about my car?”

“That’s fine. But it stays parked,” You said. She nodded and lead you to her (notably green) car. You climbed into the passenger seat.

“What did you want to talk about, sweetheart?” She asked, fiddling with her fingers and staring straight ahead.

“The circumstances surrounding Will’s disappearance.” Joyce’s head snapped towards you, a thousand questions swimming in her eyes that you wouldn’t permit her to ask. “No questions. Before the story, though, I need you to answer this: was Eleven involved?”

If it was possible, her gaze seemed to become even more questioning, but as you had forbid her from asking questions she could not voice any of them. Instead, what came out was the exact response you had been yearning to hear. “Yes.”

“How?”

“She helped me find Will. He was trapped in the Upside Down…” Joyce trailed off.

You were confused. You had never heard of a place called the Upside Down before. “What’s the Upside Down?”

“The boys described it as this alternate dimension full of death and… and monsters. Will was taken there by this… thing called the demogorgon.” Joyce looked like she was starting to get worked up, so you steered back towards safer waters.

“When you say the boys, who are you talking about?”

“Mike Wheeler, Lucas Sinclair, and Dustin Henderson. They’re Will’s closest friends,” She explained. “Mike, Lucas, and Dustin were the ones that found El in the first place, and Mike hid her in his basement.”

“Okay…” You said slowly. “Who else helped?”

Joyce wrung her hands. “Chief Hopper - that’s the cop I was talking to - my son Jonathan, Nancy Wheeler, and Steve Harrington. Jonathan, Nancy, and Steve hurt the demogorgon. That’s what helped Eleven kill it, I think.”

“So the demogorgon is dead now?” You clarified. “What about the door that it came through? Has that been closed?”

“Yes, the demogorgon is dead,” Joyce confirmed, before hesitating. “But I think the door it came through, that’s still open.”

“Who made the door in the first place?”

“Will said that Eleven is the one who opened it.”

You scowled. “Have you heard of a man named Brenner?”

“Brenner’s dead,” She said. Reading the shock on your face, she elaborated. “The demogorgon killed him.”

“And what of El? You said she killed the demogorgon, but did she come out unharmed?” You demanded.

“El… El is gone,” Joyce whispered.

Your heart plummeted so fast, you felt ill. “Gone? Gone as in… gone? Or gone as in dead?”

“I don’t know,” She said softly. “She killed the demogorgon, but once the air cleared she had just… disappeared.”

Hope flickered in your chest. All you needed was a chance El was alive, and you could go from there. “So she could still be alive?”

“I-I guess. But I just don’t know,” Joyce said, giving a small nod.

“Thank you for the information,” You said gratefully. You had come in with the full intention of wiping her memory of the whole exchange, but you hesitated. Making a rash decision, you gave her back some control. “You can ask questions now.”

“How are you doing that?!” Joyce exclaimed, her voice three octaves too high. “I mean, I’m telling you things I’ve never told anyone, and not asking questions even though I really want to, and you made Hopper just go away and you told him to forget what even happened and he didn’t even question it, and -”

You cut her off, your mind made up. You needed an ally, some sort of informant that could keep you updated should something happen. “Eleven was not unique in her history, Ms. Byers. There were ten before her.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re…”

You pulled back your sleeve, revealing the tattoo on your wrist that read ‘010’. “I’m Ten.”

Tag List: @haven-in-writing @thepatheticsuggestions @bi-pie67 @xxwarhawk @jodibullock1 @crazylost-soul @thecrispypancak @hjlauderdale @yourneonbunny @sarcasticvodka @kaliforniacoastalteens @veryweirdintrovert @4-a-m @mirajanestrauss1999 @pageofalexandercross @hippie-taco-lady @snicketyssnake @the-crime-fighting-spider @micachu1331 @esoltis280 @ilvermornyqueen @hyphymanatee

#stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy #billy x reader #billy imagine #billy fanfiction #reader #reader insert #x reader #series #fanfiction #finding eleven

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upside-nwod · 7 years

Text

Love and Light (Full)

Some people suggested that I post this separately without the link to AO3 so here you go if you’re like me and usually too lazy to click on links to take you to a story.

This was supposed to just be a little headcanon about El hanging fairy lights in her room and then I went overboard.

When El finally got her own bedroom after moving in with the Byers, she was incredulous, surprised that she could have anything of her own. Everything she had received outside of the lab thus far was borrowed; Nancy's dress, Mike's watch, Hopper's shirt. She entirely overlooked the concept of ownership. So when Joyce proceeded to tell the small girl that she could decorate said room however her little heart desired, she was over the moon.

A room— or anything of her own— wasn’t something she was used to. Sure, she had a bedroom in the lab, if one could even call it that. It’s sterile white walls with their looming steel doors were cold and unforgiving. It just wasn’t the type of place most people thought of when they hear the word home.

The walls there had eyes and ears and she knew it. Someone was always watching. Men and women came and went as they pleased poking and prodding at her with instruments and reading data from machines. More than once, she was awoken by Papa in the earliest hours in the morning (or so it felt considering she had no sense of time in the compound) for especially difficult tests and assignments as well.

The simple decorations, a purple flower Papa had given her, and a picture she drew of them together did nothing to calm her nerves at the idea of being under constant vigilance.

In contrast, the newly painted Byers household was always warm and inviting. Despite it’s charred and stained carpet, the imperfections in the house proved a family had grown together there and that was something El yearned for.

She now considered home to be the smell of cigarettes and syrup from morning breakfast that never seemed to fade, but she didn’t mind. To her, it became a familiar scent of safety and comfort. She couldn’t wait for that smell to seep into her new sheets.

The pair spent the entire weekend in different department stores searching for furniture and items that made El feel at home. These objects ranged from things she deemed pretty, such as her new comforter with it’s cotton candy colored patchwork, to things she and the boys enjoyed. They had just shown her Star Wars for the first time earlier that week and when she saw a poster with Han and Leia together she begged Joyce for it.

Upon hearing the news of the remodel, Nancy even scoured the basement in search of her old desk while Joyce and El were out. She and Jonathan repainted it together. They chose a soft cream color and even attached a makeshift vanity mirror to it, per Nancy’s request. (She was so excited to have a “sister” that she could hangout with and teach things like study tips and makeup).

However, despite El’s eagerness to venture into the world and go shopping, it was also difficult for the formerly isolated girl to choose from so many options. Not only did she encounter a dizzying amount of choice and free will, she still didn't know what a lot of the furniture and decorations were for.

She knew a lamp would provide light and that a bed was for sleeping in and that they came in all sorts of shapes and sizes, but why did she need a dresser if she had a closet? What use did she have for a small table to put next to the bed? She had no idea there was even a possibility of her using more than one drawer to store her belongings.

Slowly, these questions started to weigh down on her shoulders. Luckily, she was getting more comfortable with asking people other than Mike about the world around her.

Joyce was one of those people. She always answered El’s questions warmly and today was no exception. When Eleven asked her about even the most trivial things, such as why some of the boxes she investigated played music when they opened, Joyce was happy to explain.

Joyce always paused between new concepts so that El could take in all the new information. Sometimes she even used bigger words to challenge the girl, but not enough to confuse her more. The experienced mother knew Eleven was bright and she felt it was her duty to help El realize how wonderful she really was.

However, El began feeling overwhelmed near the end of their stint in furniture store, but tried to put on a stoic face as to not worry the older woman. But, as a single mother of two sensitive boys and now one formerly abused, telepathic girl, Joyce was extremely attentive to changes in her children’s behavior.

The quiet girl was being even quieter than usual after her barrage of questions. When she hadn’t looked up from her shoes after five minutes, Joyce decided to intervene. She knelt down to eye level with the girl and gently placed her hands on El’s shoulders. El relaxed slightly at her mother’s touch and gazed at her, a gentle expression on the woman’s face.

“Y’know what, sweetie, I’m feeling kind of hungry. What about you?” Joyce asked.

El, though unsure why Joyce had such a sudden change in disposition nodded her head and grinned.

And truth be told, El wasn’t even sure they were done shopping, but she was secretly grateful for the escape.

“Great!” Joyce chirped. Then an idea dawned on her. “I just have to make a quick phone call.”

Earlier, Joyce had been adamant about getting all the shopping done early today so they would have the rest of the night to set up the furniture and decorate her room. Seeing the toll the day was taking on El, though, changed her mind.

She asked El to wait by the car while she dialed up Hopper at the payphone. He picked up after three rings, his voice gruff from just waking up.

“Hop, it’s Joyce,” she stated.

“Yeah, Joyce, what’s up?” He coughed out.

“El and I were here at the furniture store and she started getting a little overwhelmed so I thought maybe we’d go get something to eat,” her words fast.

“Okay…” he paused thinking she would continue. She didn’t so he bit, “what does that have to do with me?”

“Well, I was thinking maybe we could walk to the diner down the block and you could wrangle up the boys and Jonathan and Nancy and you guys could take my car and start setting up El’s room?” She shut her eyes tight as her voice got higher with anticipation, knowing it was a large request. She screwed up her face as if the police chief could see it and it would somehow bend his will. Her eyes shut and mouth pursed in hoping he would agree.

Hopper sighed into his just-lit cigarette and ran a hand through his receding hair, taking an unnecessary moment to mull it over. He already knew his answer; of course he was going to do it. That little girl helped save Hawkins. The least he could do was set up a damn bed.

“Keep the key in the visor,” he said before hanging up.

When the mother-daughter duo returned home early in the evening, El, refreshed after taking a break for fries and a milkshake was once again abuzz with excitement. Of course, she hadn’t known that Hopper had picked up the bed and other furniture from the shop in his Blazer and set everything up with the help of the boys. She also hadn’t noticed that the car had moved one space to the left of their original parking spot when Jonathan and Nancy secretly returned it after dropping off the rest of her room decorations.

El was anxious to help Joyce unload the trunk, but to her dismay, the small woman headed straight for the door claiming she wanted Jonathan and Will to also help unload the car. El followed Joyce reluctantly to the porch. When the door opened, El was surprised to see her friends standing amongst eachother in the living room grinning at one another. As she stepped over the threshold, all eyes were on her

Hopper, Nancy, and Jonathan were standing near the couch, their conversation cut short by the girl’s return. Hop put his cigarette out as soon as he saw them, secretly excited to watch El’s reaction to the surprise they had in store. Nancy gave a slight wave and shy smile, and Jonathan stood, camera in hand, of course, flashing her a proud smirk.

The boys huddled in the opposite corner of the living room grinning at her as well. Will tried to hide his eagerness through a crooked smile, but his teeth began to show anyway. Lucas stood next to him, his eyes lighting up upon her arrival. Dustin, of course, crinkle-eyed and toothless as ever, could barely contain his excitement. And then there was Mike, whom, after making eye contact, immediately started to investigate the floor, a blush creeping up his neck and flushing his cheeks.

El was glad to see them, but also confused. She didn’t think there were any holidays today. Someone would have told her if they were celebrating something so that she would be prepared. She knew everyone’s birthday now as well and no one had one anytime soon.

She turned to Joyce, seeking explanation. As if on cue, the boys began speaking up in a flurry of quips and jabs.

Dustin’s loud voice rang over the other boys first. “Finally, you’re home! We’ve been waiting forever!” He laughed.

“Yeah, El. How long does it take to pick out a damn comforter?” Lucas teased.

Mike spoke up now to reassure her that she did nothing wrong even though El had gotten used to their banter and knew better by now.

“That new Indiana Jones movie came out last week and we thought maybe you and Will would wanna go see it with us.” He paused, unsure if she knew what movie they were talking about. “It’s that one with Harrison Ford in it. The same guy who plays Han Solo in Star Wars.”

El nodded eagerly. She loved going to movies with the boys. The theater made her feel like she was in another world experiencing adventures she knew Hawkins couldn’t offer her. Movies also meant two hours of popcorn, Mike leaning in close to explain things to her in hushed tones, which always made her blush for some reason, and Dustin and Lucas inevitably bickering as soon as the credits roll.

But then it dawned on her; it was Sunday. There was no way they would be allowed out this late on a school night. It was already almost eight o’clock and the boys would have to bike home soon.

She returned her attention to Joyce who had made her way to Hopper’s side. Joyce looked down at her and smiled, catching on to the boys’ plan. It was evident Mike had fabricated a convincing story that explained their being there. There was no need to explain Nancy or Hopper’s presence as they were regulars at the house anyway and they obviously didn’t have the same curfew rules.

“Well, maybe just this one time… as long as your parents are okay with it,” she stated, eyeing the boys. They all nodded in agreement.

“They already called and asked since we weren’t sure when you would be home,” Will offered.

Joyce grinned at the resourcefulness of her youngest son and looked at El. “You guys can catch the final showing tonight but only if you grab a jacket. It still gets a bit chilly at night and with you guys riding your bikes…” she trailed off.

The group let out a small cheer and thanked Mrs. Byers profusely, selling the point. El smiled and thanked Joyce as well before rushing to get a familiar navy windbreaker from her closet. The group surged forward and followed her down the narrow hall quietly, trying not to be suspicious in the tight space.

Everyone held a collective breath as El opened her door and took a few tentative steps into the room. The group huddled in the doorway watching their friend react to something that was finally her own. Joyce had put Hopper’s arm in a vice grip in anticipation.

El’s jaw had dropped upon seeing the remodel. Jonathan wormed his way through the throng of people so that he could get some shots in of her expression. She may not be the best with words, but this had left her a different type of speechless.

What used to be a drab room with off-white walls and a solid comforter became a mishmash of pastel colors, furniture that didn’t quite seem to match, and knick knacks they had picked up that day, such as action figures and a few stuffed animals. Her bed was centered against the wall so that the foot of it faced the window. The other walls were no longer bare, instead decorated with her few posters and some drawings Will had given her in the past.

Perhaps her favorite part, though, was the hand-me-down vanity that sat next to the door. To her, it was beautiful. On the vanity sat a small makeup kit, courtesy of Nancy, and a few polaroids of the people she held dear taped up to the mirror. Immediately, she was taken back to the moment she stepped out of The Wheeler's bathroom over a year ago and examined herself in the mirror, feeling pretty for the first time ever.

Back in the present, she spun slowly in a circle trying to memorize every detail as if the memory may disappear. She feared forgetting the feeling of warmth that spread throughout her chest.

Joyce took a tentative step forward, squeezing past the mass of bodies.

“Now listen,” her voice soft but adamant, “I know this is your room and we kind of put everything up and decorated it without asking, but I saw how overwhelmed you got at the store and I just thought this might be a nice surprise, y’know? It would be a whole let less work on our part.” She winked a thank you at Hopper and returned her attention to El. “I mean, if you don’t like where they put stuff we can always move and rearrange it…” Her voice trailed off wondering if what she was saying even mattered as the girl hadn’t reacted to her voice.

El turned around fully now, facing everyone, beaming. “It’s perfect,” she whispered as she leaped into Joyce’s arms. Tiny tears of joy spilled over her cheek. The group in the hallway let out a collective breath before squeezing into the room to join in the hug.

After a few moments, however, she pulled away and looked to everyone surrounding her. Her eyes found Mike’s and her forehead creased. “Wait,” she paused, “what about movie?”

That night, after everyone left, (they had collectively laughed at the little girl's concern and decided to see the movie next weekend), El settled into her new bed and hoped for sweet dreams. She thought about her friends and family and the grand gesture they performed for her.

If Papa had told Eleven that one day she would be taught the meaning of words such as “friend” and “promise,” she would have looked at him confused and probably terrified. Now though, she couldn’t imagine life without these concepts and she didn’t want to. She had friends and made promises and she was learning new words every day. Like how freckles are the stars on Mike’s face and contemplation is what Hop does when he drinks his morning coffee. Or how there’s more than one word for pretty but Will doesn’t mind if she uses it to describe his drawings anyway.

Yet, despite her hope for a peaceful night’s rest, fear was always just around the corner for El Byers. It had a way of sneaking up on her sometimes regardless of how much she tried to prepare herself. She had always been afraid of the dark after all her time spent in The Room and The Upside Down. Even though she knew she was far from the lab and the bad men, there was still always going to be that vague sense of uneasiness. It wasn’t until the house was completely silent, when not even Chester, the dog, stirred, did she realize how dark it was in her room.

She tried her best to fall asleep but was unable to close her eyes for more than a few seconds. The darkness was suffocating. She worried about the shadows that seemed to move in the dark and the tree that scratched like the Demogorgon's claws outside her bedroom window. Or the fact that the door wasn't open enough for her to be able to breathe which made her cringe, but she just couldn’t seem to concentrate enough to push it open even slightly.

The blackness that surrounded her found it’s way to her through and she began to choke. A feeling of heat washed over her, sweat beading at her forehead. Her temperature rose with panic. She tried to take deep breaths like Mike and Joyce had told her. In for four. Hold. Out for seven. Repeat. But it didn’t help. Not this time.

After little progress, El began receding into herself. She curled into a ball and pulled the blanket over her head, white-knuckling the sheets to keep them in place as if the blanket could protect her from even the most grotesque monster.

Joyce’s words from the night in the pool felt like ages ago, but nevertheless reverberated in El’s brain. “I’m right here sweetie. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

The shaking child tried to remember when she ended up back here after her time in The Upside Down. Joyce had pulled her into an embrace she had never felt before. She wanted to remember that feeling, hoping it would cast the darkness away.

She had dealt with this anxiety before, but it was always a crippling, lonely process. Even though Joyce had said El could wake her up if she ever needed to, there was still a slight pang of guilt every time the girl creaked open her mother’s door and crawled under her sheets. Too ashamed of her phobia, (a word Lucas taught her while teasing Dustin about his aversion to spiders), to wake her family, she curled tighter into her fetal position and tried to conjure up more happy thoughts.

El didn’t sleep a wink that night. It wasn’t until the early hours of the morning, when the first light of dawn filtered through the divides in her blinds, did she feel safe enough to shut her tired eyes. But her rest was short lived when Jonathan came into her room two hours later.

Even though El didn’t attend school with the boys yet, she still woke up with everyone else, enjoying the Byers’ morning routine and company. Her older brother sat at the foot of her bed and whispered to her until she stirred, knowing better than to touch her when she’s not fully conscious. (He learned that the hard way after being thrown out into the hall by an unseen force in her first week living with them). When she began to stir, he patted her leg and returned to the kitchen.

The heavy-eyed girl shuffled out of her room like the dead walking, socked feet dragging her to the kitchen. Will was already at the table quietly humming to himself as he read a schoolbook. Jonathan returned to his place at the stove to continue scrambling eggs and toasting Egos. Joyce was skittering about the house looking for her “misplaced” name tag. Everything seemed to be in perfect chaotic order except for Eleven who slumped into her seat next to Will, eyes barely open and half her pixie length hair sticking up.

The adrenaline rush from fear and lack of sleep last night had left her so exhausted she didn’t even feel guilty when she groaned in response to Joyce's scatter-brained good morning. Finally, after another five minutes that felt like eons, the whole family was seated. Together, the Byers shared a look concerning sleeping beauty who sloppily piled forkfuls of waffle into her mouth without even opening her eyes. Their eyes darted from one person to the other, curiosity growing on their faces. Will, the ever-mindful brother, was the first to speak.

“El?” Her eyes opened slightly at her name. “Are you okay? You don’t look very well.” His voice laced with concern.

El simply rocked her head up and down, lazily chewing her breakfast.

Jonathan raised an eyebrow at Joyce who was already leaning over the table to put a hand on her daughter’s forehead. No fever, but her face was pale and her head bobbed in and out of sleep despite the fresh plate of her favorite Eggos, now a quarter missing, in front of her.

“El, honey, how did you sleep last night?” Joyce wondered if she had even slept at all.

Despite the shame she felt for her fear, she answered honestly. One, because she knew lying was wrong and her mom just wanted to help. And two, she was too sleepy to try avoiding the question.

"Didn't sleep," she mumbled, eyes open fully now. "Couldn't."

"Why not? Did you have a bad dream?" She was going to continue in trying to reassure El that if there were nightmares she couldn't face she was more than welcome in the safety comfort of Joyce's bed, but stopped herself when El shook her head.

"Dark," she whispered, a somber tone beginning to take hold of her voice.

The boys looked at each other confused. El had been in the dark before. The movies, late night rides home from The Wheelers. It's not like when El was sleeping on the couch they left lights on either. They simply couldn't afford to leave on lamps or anything if they're not being used. And the few times she crept into bed with Joyce there hadn't been a night light either.

Then it dawned on them; she was never alone while she was in the dark. She always had the boys, or Joyce, or even Chester to keep her company. The boys gave each other a knowing look. It was Jonathan who spoke up first.

"Are... are you afraid of the dark, El?" He mumbled. He knew it well, the overwhelming feeling of loneliness that stifled the air late at night, but perhaps he didn't know it like his siblings did.

El’s voice shook as she whispered. “Yes,” she breathed, avoiding eye contact as hot tears escaped to her cheeks.

Jonathan outstretched a hand to place on El's. "Y'know, I used to be afraid of the dark, too. It's nothing to be ashamed of," he smiled gently.

Will took the opportunity to mimic his brother and placed his tiny palm on top of her other hand as well. "Yeah, I was too. Especially after that week. I spent almost every night in mom's room after I got out of the hospital," he paused to smile at his sister, hoping their stories could help her somehow. "Sometimes I still get a little freaked out," he shivered, looking down, "but most people grow out of it just like Jonathan did."

Joyce grinned to herself, proud of her boys for taking such good care of this girl who hadn’t even existed to them, or anyone outside Hawkins National Laboratory, a year ago.

“I think everyone has fears that seem irrational or silly,” Joyce picked up the conversation, “but that doesn’t make them not scary to us. Even I’m scared of things like losing you guys or the phone shocking me again. Chief Hopper is scared of stuff too.” El giggled at that. The thought of The Chief being afraid of something so trivial like snakes or spiders just seemed so bizarre.

Joyce continued. “But it’s how we deal with our fears that matter.” She had been speaking to the table, but now turned her attention specifically to El. “There’s always something out there that’s going to be scary. There’s no need to be ashamed of it because I bet there’s millions of other people that are scared of the exact same thing.”

She lightly tapped El on the nose signaling the end of her little speech, hoping maybe it would lighten the mood. El grinned and looked back down at her plate of Eggos.

“Why don’t you go on back to bed and I’ll come back on my lunch break to check on you?” Joyce suggested.

El nodded at her mom’s idea, eager to return to bed, but not before giving every one of them a big hug to show them how grateful she was for their love and support.

Her heart felt full as she sank into the fluffy mattress and snuggled deep under the covers. Sleep overtook her faster than she thought and she hadn’t stirred until her brothers got home a little after 3:15. Jonathan had turned on a new mixtape to show Will, not knowing Eleven was still asleep just a room away. When she awoke, however, she was marveled.

Strung up around El’s room were dozens of Christmas lights in all the different colors. There was even a an entire string that went around made up of completely white bulbs. But these lights different from the ones that snaked through the house during the week of November 6, 1983. Joyce had gotten rid of those, exchanging them for smaller, pointier lights to hang up that Christmas. The old kind were just too painful of a reminder to bear for everyone during what should be a cheerful holiday.

She always thought they were the most spectacular thing, though, those Christmas lights. When she found herself surrounded by hundreds of them her first time at the Byers' house, despite the circumstances under which they were hung, she couldn’t help but feel electric when she saw the multitude of colors and how they danced along the walls. It was like magic, something Will had taught her plenty about, most of the time in The Wheeler’s basement after a campaign when they were the last two up.

She got out of bed and stretched, finally feeling rested after such a stressful night. She climbed on top of her bed to get a better look at the twinkling colors and smiled to herself. Pretty, she thought.

Outside, El heard the front door open and shut with the familiar sound of Joyce’s keys jingling as she set her purse down on the kitchen table. This was immediately followed by fast footsteps and Joyce hissing at her sons to turn down their music. Jonathan defended them by claiming they didn’t know El was asleep but that they were sorry.

Moments later, there was a soft rapping at the door and Joyce peeked her head in.

“Oh, you’re up! I hope the boys didn’t wake you…” she trailed off.

“No,” she claimed, sitting down cross-legged on her bed. It wasn’t technically a lie. She was drifting into some sort of consciousness when the boys got home. The music just got her there faster.

Joyce stepped into the room and sat next to her on the bed. “Do you like them? I thought they might be better than just a boring night light. This way, you won’t have to sleep in the complete dark. Plus they’re prettier to look at,” she grinned, putting an arm around El’s shoulder pulling her close.

El’s heart fluttered at the affection. “Very pretty,” she responded, looking up again in awe.

“I think the white one’s look like stars. Like having outer space in your own room, but some people call them fairy lights because they look like fairies dancing. Did you know that?”

“No! I didn’t!” El exclaimed. “I like stars, but I like fairies too,” she stated, sinking further into her mother’s embrace.

Mike had told her about fairies once after a Dungeons and Dragons campaign. They weren’t the same type of fairy that Troy had called Will. She knew that was bad and that saying it made you a mouth breather.

The kind Mike talked about, however, were good. He said they were like tiny spirits that sometimes lived in the woods or other places and had magical powers that could help people. But he didn’t tell her they twinkle like Christmas lights.

The idea of fairies in her room, real or not, made her giddy. It was like she had her own personal protectors among a room of constellations to ward off the bad in her life. The bad men, the bad dreams, the monsters.

Maybe, just maybe she could finally rest easy.

As El changed over the years, so did her room. She was always re-arranging furniture and collecting all sorts of odds and ends.The movie posters that hung in middle school were frequently replaced with newer ones with depictions of her favorite movie scenes or rockstars Jonathan had shown her.

Her vanity now held a broad selection of makeup, though she really only used it for special occasions. Newer photos of her family and friends were added to the mirror all the time. Drawings Will gave to her over the years were swapped out with newer ones he gifted her every few months, but she secretly kept every one in a special box under her bed because she cherished these small gifts from her brother. Same with photos Jonathan would send her from NYU.

Once she was admitted to school, she also became quite the bookworm, devouring anything with words printed on it. Her book shelf was so full that some novels even sat horizontal, or were stacked off to the side. It, was an organized mess, one that only she could navigate, but she liked it that way.

At some point, Eleven even obtained Officer Callahan’s deputy hat after winning a game of cards at one of the station’s holiday parties. She wore it for Halloween the next year when she dressed up as Chief Hopper. It held a special place high up on one of her shelves.

While her fear of the dark did diminish over time, it never went away completely. Thus, one thing in her room had always remained the same; the fairy lights.

To her, they were even better than the glow-in-the-dark ceiling stars Dustin got her after she witnessed her first meteor shower.

Those little lights were a symbol of freedom and belonging to her. They represented the infinite amount of stars outside her window that reached out into all sorts of beyond, stretching across a world she had never known. They made her feel safe and protected when everything got to be too much. While it wasn’t the same as the solace of another person with her, or a stuffed animal to cuddle, at least it was something.

And so, every night, as she drifted to sleep, she would take one last glance at the lights that bordered her walls and thought that no matter how many stars, no matter how many universes were out there, this was exactly where she belonged.

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howtobecomeadragon · 10 months

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can you imagine how annoyed will must have been? he's gay, in love with his best friend, filled with shame about who he is, but he loves mike, he loves mike with all his heart, and he knows somewhere deep down that he's good for him, that he can take care of mike and cheer him up when he's down, will can be there for him in all the ways that mike needs. because he loves him, because he wants to. they've been each other's best friends forever, since they knew how to make and have friends. they grew up together, and around each other's quirks and needs and insecurities. they know almost everything about each other. almost. except for the big secret. mike just doesn't know will's in love with him. but they know everything else about each other.

and then will's family has to adopt mike's girlfriend and will kind of hates her because she's dating the guy he loves, she's the reason mike is pulling away. but soon, with enough distance from mike, will figures she's not too bad. she's just some girl that's struggling a lot and will wants to help her, so he does. she's a weird sister now. she knocks on his door for help with homework sometimes, and she likes trying new foods, and sometimes she'll listen to music with him.

but between all those sister moments are moments of devastation and heartbreak sprinkled throughout the months. she gets letters from mike. joyce hands her a new letter and el's eyes widen and she smiles and runs to her room. and it feels like last summer again when she was stealing away every bit of mike then, too. mike's handwriting, the paper that he held in his hands, his words: all whisked away to el's bedroom, far away from will.

and will watches el, and wonders. if mike were to be with someone for the rest of his life, would it be her? is that who will would've guessed, after he got over that silly daydream that it would be him, that it could ever be him?

he pictured mike with someone who played d&d, although he doesn't know if girls play d&d. he pictured someone that would stay up late talking about wizards and goblins and elves with him. he pictured someone that would go to the arcade with them. like max, but not like max. someone that would build mike up, catch him when he was down on himself, build him back up, appreciate how much he cared for everyone.

when will did get a phone call from mike, he found himself wondering what he talked about with el. what they had in common that kept them so inseparable all these months, even as mike faded further and further from will. did el have that much more in common with mike? a couple could only talk about how much they like each other so much, right? that couldn't fill a letter all by itself.

he wondered and wondered, even as he imagined conversations with mike day after day, picturing mike as his chemistry lab partner and jokes they'd make in english class and mike's usual groans about the shitty cafeteria food. his head was so full of mike: ten years worth of what mike thought of this and how he would talk about that. he was so full of everything that made mike mike that will never ran out of things to say to him. in his head at least. things were weird on the phone. and mike was barely calling anyway.

so then mike is coming for spring break and will knows that he'll have to share that time with el, that likely she'd get most of that time, and he'd get barely any, judging by how things were last summer and all the letters she always got. but he has so much to talk to mike about: his painting, how much he missed him, how much he misses their friendship, a new fantasy book he read, a d&d campaign he thought up, his physics class, his cool new art teacher.

mike is there at the airport and will's chest is fluttering and mike looks so good and will has to swallow down all his thoughts and feelings, because it's too too much. mike hugs el, kisses el, and doesn't hug will. will feels kind of numb, like he's in shock by how mike is treating him, but maybe less surprised than he expected. it settles into him like an inevitability. he wasn't calling much, so why would he want a big hug?

el says it clear as day: this day is just for them. mike doesn't want to spend it with will too. because obviously will was wrong about what mike might want. he doesn't want a person who will play d&d, or talk about dwarves and dragons. el is exactly who mike wants, and will was just wrong.

but then. but then. will realizes as el talks: el's been lying. el isn't friends with stacy and angela. el doesn't go to rink o mania for parties. while they eat their breakfast burritos, she tells mike about her great math grade, even though will saw a math test sticking out of her backpack a few weeks ago with a failing grade on it. it's all lies.

and suddenly, will is annoyed. will wouldn't have lied to mike. mike hates lying. mike is still playing d&d. dustin told him so. el doesn't play d&d. mike talks about how he and el had a big fight, and will thinks about how they did too and how their fight wasn't one that they couldn't come back from. will watches as mike talks more badly about himself than he's ever done so before in the van, and wonders if he'll have to keep reassuring him for the rest of their lives, if el can't help him this much. because if el is lying, if they had a big fight, if mike is coming to him about these worries, then what do el and mike talk about?

he assumed that they talked a lot about liking each other, but they didn't even say "i love you" or "i missed you" at the airport. they don't talk about books or about hellfire club, which will heard all about from dustin and lucas. everything el said about school was lies. he wondered if mike knew about the night will found el crying about the failed math test, or about how will cheered her up or distracted her after getting bullied. what the hell did they talk about?

will tries to stop thinking about how he's the one who is perfect for mike, he really does. but it gets harder and harder to stop those thoughts the more time he spends around mike and el. he just doesn't get what they talk about, after the lying and the fights. he doesn't get it.

#byler #will byers yearning hours

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