the tattered cover

here’s what the ratty shoebox under dean’s bed contains:

  • an old leather wallet with the initials “j.h.w” embossed on the front.
  • two tattered notebooks with ripped covers and loose pages full of scribbles about monsters, lyrics from songs, messy doodles, and phone numbers from truckstop diner waitresses.
  • a handful of photographs featuring a few familiar faces that are still painful to look at.
  • a dog-eared slaughterhouse five, a coverless grapes of wrath, and a relatively intact hitchhiker’s guide to the galaxy.
  • some stray bullets.
  • some jewellery.
  • five mix tapes with handwritten titles in faded pen such as “tunes for ass-kicking” and “songs to get laid to.”
Random Trinket Table

Have you ever thought to yourself, “Man, I want something useless but mildly interesting that isn’t from the trinket table in the player’s handbook!” Well, you’re in luck. Because I love random, useless trinkets and I’ve created a list for all to use. Even though there are plenty of other random trinket tables out there, you can never really have too many. Am I right or…? Anyways. Table below the cut!

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Bloody and Bruised

Pairing: Lafayette x Reader

Requested?: Yes, it was!

Prompt: “Oh sorry I got so excited I didn’t think to read the tags.. I’m a ditz sometimes. Number 7 or 11 with Lafayette x reader then. Sorry! (11. I found you bloody and bruised in a strange alleyway, so far from home.)” (P.S. you’re not a ditz my friend)

Words: 1.6k+

A/N: so I was given a sentence for a drabble and this happened, haha. I wasn’t too sure how I felt about it but @secretschuylersister convinced me to post this so enjoy! 

Originally posted by hcwkeyes

You stepped out the back of the club for some fresh air. Being a bartender was hell when it was a Friday night and everyone in the city wanted to come to the “hottest club in the tri-state area”. You install a few blacklights and suddenly everyone is amazed that their white shirt glows in the dark. You rolled your eyes, pushing the loud, drunk customers to the back of your mind as you stretched. You froze when you heard a groan to your left. However, when you turned your head, nobody was there. You shrugged it off, leaning on the brick wall behind you when another groan came from the same direction.

“Help…me…” a voice croaked out.

You walked down the alley, pausing when you found a man laying in the middle of a pile of full trash bags.

“Oh my god! Are you okay?” You asked before you could think about it.

Of course he isn’t okay, in the dim lighting of the alley you could see blood, a lot of it, staining the white shirt the man wore. His body language screamed fatigue and his voice was shaky and weak.

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Beast! Adam x reader

a/n: so this one was a lot of fun and i’m so proud of it.


Word Count: 1616

Warnings: Maybe language but I don’t think so. Maybe Hell . IDK

Hii ! I’ve seen that the requests are open :) may I ask a one-shot for beauty and the beast where the reader is a peasant and the village believes she’s a witch ( maybe bc she survived the plague while a lot of other people died ) so she refugees at the castle and starts to discover what is going on there and dunno … just let fly your imagination for me 😂😘

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zachandreggie  asked:

Hey! Can you please write a new girl x Justin imagine where Justin has a liking towards her soon as he sees her please? Tysm :)

Of course! Feel free to tell me if it’s not what you wanted, and I’ll try and edit it :) thanks for being the first request…

716 words, Justin Foley/fem!reader:

You’d moved to Cresmont in the summer between freshman and sophomore year, making you the completely new girl, of course. The many voices of Liberty High rang through your ears while you walked the halls for the first time. There wasn’t a lot to take in, bare white walls covered in tattered blue lockers from years of use.

First period bell went, alerting the loitering student body to start migrating to whatever class they had. People walked around you, all the while you stood lost and stationary in the hallway.

‘Shit’ being the only thing going through your head, because of course you’d left it too late to arrive to school - you hadn’t even found locker 37, let alone gotten books and equipment out for lessons. Either way, you decided that settling in was more important than first period, so began trudging around the consistently bare corridors.

“Hey! You! You alright?” a loud voice projected from behind you, making you swivel on your heels. A boy a little taller than you was approaching you from the front doors of the school. “Don’t look so worried, I’m late too uh - who’re you?”

“y/n y/l/n, I’m kinda new here.”
“No shit, I’ve never seen such a pretty girl around here before.” this made you blush a deeper red than you’d like to admit, though there was a flush creeping across his prominent cheekbones.
“R-right, well, I need some help looking for my locker…”
“Say no more; 37? Well, m’lady, that is right across from mine.” M’lady? Who was this guy and why was someone with as good looks as he did helping the new girl? “I’m Justin Foley, by the way.” With a not-so-subtle wink and a little bite of his lip that made your heart pang, Justin Foley gripped your now shaking hand and lead you to a row of lockers just around the corner - both of you sneaking glances at each other even after you parted ways to go to the class you now had missed half of.  

Don’t feel embarrassed for being so infatuated with Justin Foley, however, the first thought floating through his mind was what he truthfully said - you were the most beautiful girl he’d laid eyes on.

He was sitting with some kids you hadn’t met yet at lunch, smiling nervously when he nodded at you with the biggest grin you’d had the pleasure of being greeted with.

“That’s the girl?” Zach questioned once you’d passed, only to discreetly sit down at the table being, backs facing each other. You could hear every word.
“You bet - hands off, idiots,” Justin teased with a smile carrying out his words.
“Come on, not even a try?” Cried another - you really needed to stop blushing because of Justin Foley.
“Fat chance, she’s gorgeous and probably got the mind to match; I’m not letting you assholes ruin her.” his friends groaned and jokingly muttered in disappointment.

A while passed and you’d been surprised that they hadn’t picked up on you sitting right there. Thinking you’d gone unnoticed you began to stand to throw your trash away before being stopped by a hand on your shoulder, and a warm breath near your ear. Looking up meekly to see Justin peering down at you with a warmth in his blue eyes. You started to pull away out of embarrassment that he knew you’d been eavesdropping, until he spoke.

“So, I’ll be honest, y/n, when I first saw you I instantly thought that you were pretty cool, and I guess I kinda like you…” it was weird, seeing someone that looked like him get tense. You’d think he thought he could get anyone he wanted. And he did, but for whatever reason you were different - seemingly unobtainable even by him.

“Where’s this going?”
“Right, I just wanted to ask if you wanted to go to a movie sometime, or just hang out?” he didn’t look you in the eye and instead chose the lunchroom floor as a focal point. Getting a surge of confidence from someone taking interest in you, you pulled his face up so your eyes were locked with his. You planted a daring kiss on his cheek, beckoning another crimson flash across his cheekbones.
“Any time, Foley - any time.”

What's Wrong?

A/N First of all I’m so sorry this took so long track started up and I’ve been doing nothing but working out and sleeping and also this isn’t my best work but I was having some problems writing it how I wanted so I’m sorry that this isn’t my best work but it’s finally up.

Warnings: Minor Character Death
Pairing: Pan x Reader
Words: 748


“P-Peter,” you said quietly, standing in the entrance to his tent “Are you awake?” Your voice was shaky and it sounded pathetic but you couldn’t help it, not after what had happened.

At the sound of your voice Pan all but shot up in bed for two reasons. One, you called him Peter and you never did that and two, you sounded terrified, “What’s wrong Y/N?” he asked urgently, swinging his legs off the side of the bed as you walked closer.

You shook your head, you couldn’t talk about it, you were too scared. You physically couldn’t. You stood in front of Pan, you didn’t want to sit on his bed, he didn’t like it when people touched his stuff.

His eyes widened, taking in the state you were in. Your clothes were tattered and covered in blood and you could feel bruises forming all over your body. “Let’s get you into something clean,” he said softly, his mind racing a mile a minute. You watched as he walked to his closet and pulled out a tunic and leggings. You stood still, wrapping your arms around yourself and shivering, you couldn’t tell if you were just cold or if it was nerves.

Pan walked back over and seemed to be thinking something over before he said “Arms up.” You did as he said and put your arms up, he began taking off your shirt and any other time you would’ve objected but right now you were thankful that he was helping you. Pan helped put his shirt on you and then he did the same with your pants. When you were finally dressed he sat down on his bed and patted the spot next to him “Sit down,” he said gently.

You tentatively sat next to Pan, staring at your folded hands in your lap. After a few moments of silence he reached out and grabbed one of your hands and asked, “Y/N, what happened to you? You’re never this quiet, what’s wrong?”

You took a few deep breaths. You had to tell him. He’d find out eventually and honestly you were surprised he didn’t already know. “I-I killed Devin,” you whispered, your voice just barely audible. “It’s all my fault. I’m so sorry.”

“What?” Pan was completely shocked, he knew you’d never kill one of the boys but why would you lie? “What do you mean?”

“Th-there was an accident,” you whispered, a tear falling from your cheek “And I killed Devin.” You paused, whipping away the trail left by the tear “And then Felix… h-he hurt me,” You could feel Pan stiffen next to you.

“He what?” Pan said his voice colder than ice.

“He beat me,” you started “He said he would beat me within an inch of my life for what I did, he said I was careless and I never could be again. I had to be reminded of that.”

“He had no right, I’ll kill him for this,” Peter muttered beside you, practically shaking with rage.

“No,” you whispered “Don’t. He was right.”

Peter gripped your shoulders and turned you to face him before he said “He had no right to do that and he’s wrong. You aren’t careless. I know you. You would never do anything to hurt one of the boys, I know that for a fact. Okay?”

You shook your head, “No. Peter it’s not okay!” You exclaimed why couldn’t he understand “I almost killed one of my friends tonight and I’m just such an awful person for not thinking about what could’ve happened. I should’ve been better. I should’ve thought ahead. I shouldn’t have been so-”

You were cut off mid-rant by Peter gripping your chin in his hand and pulling you into a kiss. You hesitated before ever so slightly leaning into the kiss and resting your hands on his shoulders.

After a few seconds he pulled away and he said quietly “You made a mistake, that happens. You’re okay though and Devin’s okay. I’m going to have to deal with Felix but you are just fine and I want you to understand that. I’ll take care of everything in the morning.” He paused and held your hands gently in his own, “Now come to bed with me.” He whispered.

You nodded your head and Peter smiled before crawling back under the covers and pulling you down with him, your back pressed against his chest.

“It’ll all be okay Y/N,” he whispered, “I promise.”

My friend learned the hard way to not answer the door to late night trick-or-treaters

by reddit user manen_lyset

We all have that one friend who’s not into the holidays. You know the one: won’t decorate, won’t dress up, won’t wish you a happy -whatever day it is-, and, though he’ll reluctantly agree to come to your themed party, he’ll stay in the back and scowl the whole time. In most cases, the hate is directed at just one holiday, whether it be Valentines, Christmas, Easter, or, hell, even arbor day. My friend Patrick? He hated Halloween with every fiber of his being.

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DannyMay Day Eight Observants /Sightseeing

…They were getting tired of this. He worked for them, not the other way around. They gave the orders and he would follow them. Not take matters into his own hands and manipulate the time stream.

If they want something done right, they’ll have to do it themselves, no matter the consequences.

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There is an incredible (and attractive) man in downtown Denver, Colorado that sits in front of the Tattered Cover book store that (for a tip) will make up a poem on the spot about whatever topic you want. He’s amazing! I chose Sunflowers as my topic and this is what he came up with. 🌼 I recommend anyone in the area to go see him. He’s really really nice too.

Whiskey, champagne and a leather jacket

The bell chimed, signaling that someone just had walked in. The first thing her eyes saw was a well worn leather jacket hanging on a plush chair. Her heartrate sped up, still after all this time and remembered the way her mind had betrayed her heart. How she had left everything, no, everyone behind.

Her whiskeycolured eyes continued to travel around the store, scanning the dark brown shelves filled with a countless amount of books, landing on a man with curly light hair who was standing between the narrow shelves. He wore a jumper with a shirt underneath, you could just see the navy blue collar sticking up. His sleeves were rolled up so he could easier move. His arms were filled to the brim with books, mostly old ones with tattered covers and dusty titles. He had yet to notice her standing there, watching him as he stretched onto his toes to put a book back in its place. The woman walked forward, ready with an excuse me on her tongue to breeze past him and further into the bookstore to delve into its hidden treasures. Her shoes clicked sligthly against the wooden floors as she started to near him, drawing his attention.

He raised his eyes, took one look at her, and as his eyes turned golden, he dropped the book he was curently holding with a smack. The woman realised just then, that in this mundane bookstore was someone like her, someone belonging to the world of magic. Everything she had so suddenly left came back. Just because his lovely bluegreen eyes had turned gold. A champagne gold. 

His lips curled just the tiny bit and said “I know someone that would like to meet you”. And as in a practiced motion some soft laughs left her mouth and said, “Why do I have the feeling that this has something to do with that leather jacket?” as she made an inclining nod to the corner with the chair, making her curls bounce and his still golden eyes twinkle. “Well, maybe because you are after all, the brightest witch of your age.” A breath left her, one she hadn´t even realized she had hold. She felt waves of relief wash over her, just beacause he recognized her. 

The woman looked up into his eyes and gave the man a brilliant smile, and realized that maybe she was ready to come back, to once more embrace everything she had left.



(Together they were a duo of whiskey and champange and became a trio when she met the silvereyed owner of the leather jacket.)


So this is just something I wrote, and to be honest it is like my first one. I would love to hear someones thoughts on this.

I don´t know if it´s okay if I tag any of you in this, but if you have the time I would be really thankful for some feedback @ash-castle @ashenrenee @shayalonnie @mechengmama @littleneko1923 @colubrina @captain-kittenwolf17 @mrsmarauders @ladiefury @calebski @canimallow @brightki @indiebluecrown @disillusionist9 @dreadpiratemary


theybecameanimagi  asked:

“time passes slower without you.” Cullen/Arian?

Ah God, my brain just went full-blown angst for this I’M SORRY

Pre-relationship - set in the bad future during In Hushed Whispers.

*Warning for character death*

As they continued their trek through Redcliffe Castle, Arian knew she’d forever be grateful if she never came across the sight of dark brick or red parasitic crystals ever again.

She and Dorian had found Cassandra and Bull, both locked away in cells in the lower levels of the fortress, and had also retrieved Leliana - who went silent after initially being rescued by them.

Now, they made their way back to the upper levels of the castle - before a raspy sound stopped them in their tracks.

“Do you hear that?” Cassandra asked, turning her head toward a specific corridor. Upon moving closer, Arian could make out a deep but scratchy voice - murmuring something continuous.

“C’mon,” the elf ordered the rest of the group, who followed her to a chamber filled with more rows of cells.

“Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter. Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just…” came the voice from the furthest cell, and Arian felt her heart sink into the pit of her gut.

No, it can’t be.

When she reached the cell, she found her worst fears realized. There, sitting on the floor, was Cullen - bound in place by a large crystal of red lyrium growing out of his leg and into the floor.

“Cullen!” she gasped, throwing open the door to the cell without a single thought. Quickly she hurried to his side, kneeling down and taking his face between her palms. His cheeks were sunken in and pale, his eyes dark from absence of rest. Even so, when he met her line of sight his expression brightened, then shifted to confusion.

“What? No… this is… this is another illusion. You died. They said you were blown to pieces…”

Arian shook her head fiercely, tears slipping free and running down her cheeks. “No, Cullen, I’m alive. Alexius sent me through time.” To prove her point, she reached for one of his hands and raised it to settle on her cheek, offering him a gentle smile. The man let out a shaky breath, his thumb weakly stroking at the curve of her cheekbone.

“You are alive… Arian,” he muttered, then cracked a small smile. “Oh, Maker… my prayers have been answered.”

“How are you here?” Leliana, breaking her silence, asked in alarm from the cell’s entrance. Cullen attempted to sit up to see her better, but just hissed in pain and slunk back down.

“After you came here, Josephine and I rallied what armies we could to infiltrate the castle. We launched three failed attacks before they charged us. They killed everyone they came across. Josephine managed to get the remainder to safety at my expense. They surrounded me on all sides. I’ve been here since.”

“Cullen…” Arian whimpered, admiring the fact that he had given everything to see the Inquisition safe. Slowly his eyes rose to meet hers again, and his brow furrowed slightly.

“Please don’t cry, Arian,” he whispered, and offered the brightest smile he could manage. “I’m content. I got to see you again, even if it took forever. Time… it passes slower without you.”

Arian sniffled, shaking her head. “Don’t talk like that. We’re going to get you out of here. We have to.”

Cullen just laughed, the sound hoarse and squeaky. “I don’t have much time, Arian. The lyrium… it grows quicker with templars. I’d rather die now than become an abomination. If you would…”

The elf, now sobbing brokenly, violently shook her head. “Please, don’t ask me to do that. I can’t… you don’t understand…”

Cullen’s hand slid from her cheek and into the hair at the nape of her neck, urging her forward until their foreheads came to rest against one another. In this position, she could see right into his soft amber eyes - could make out the pain and fear intermingling within.

“Please,” he begged of her, and her eyes clenched shut as she shakily reached for the dagger in her belt, knowing he was suffering.

As her eyes slowly opened again, part of her was thankful that her flood of tears had blurred Cullen’s face from view. She rose the dagger to his throat, and heaved a breathless sob.

“I promise I’ll fix this, ma vhenan. I promise. Dareth shiral,” she whispered, and then quickly slashed the dagger across his flesh.

Within moments, Cullen’s eyes peacefully shut, his last breath gargled but calm. His bony hand slowly fell from her head back to his side and Arian collapsed into him, sobbing into the tattered shirt covering his chest.

Once she had calmed, she rose onto her knees and pressed a lingering kiss to Cullen’s forehead, then roughly stood to her feet.

“Alexius will die,” she roared outright, making a beeline out of the cell and toward the upper level of the fortress.

Her companions, silent as the grave, obediently followed suit.

Likes and reblogs appreciated ^^; here’s my angst for the year lmao


One of my very favorite books: 

A coffee table photography book: New York: True North by Gilbert Millstein and Sam Falk (photographer); published in 1964 by Doubleday. 

A pretty tattered cover, as you can see, but magnificent black-and-white views of the environs and people of Manhattan in the early 1960s. The neighborhoods were much more distinct: the Bowery was for bums and Wall Street was for bankers and the Village was for poets, folksingers, and the artsy set. Manhattan was then if not now the pinnacle of cool, sophistication, and in a poseur kind of way, authenticity.

Another short fluffy Bechloe fic for you nerds. My heart melted. Help me.

Beca was always bored when Philosophy was concerned. She never wanted to be at Barden in the first place and now, thanks to her asshole father, 3 years later she is still here. She can’t really complain much to be honest. She now has the best group of friends she could ever have imagined, although there was always one person that stood out.

Chloe Beale.

Even just the sound of her name could bring a smile onto Beca’s face. It’s what she dubbed the ‘Chloe Beale Effect’. The beautiful redhead is the most generous and benevolent woman Beca has ever had the fortune to meet, and not once did she ever regret meeting her. Well, maybe she regretted the way they met… after all, Chloe did burst into her shower as bare as the day she was born declaring that the brunette was singing the song she masturbated to… Little did she know that this woman would tear down all her walls and burrow herself into her heart, with never an intention to leave. Beca would not have it any other way.

Looking over at the girl in question, who was lying on her bed writing in her notebook, Beca realised it was quiet… too quiet. Knowing her best friend as well as she did, ‘quiet’ and ‘Chloe Beale’ did not belong in the same sentence, unless the sentence was ‘Chloe Beale is never quiet’. Something is definitely up with her.

Realising the other girl was lost in her own world, Beca quietly stood up from her chair, and tip-toed to her bed, being careful not to trip on the clothes laying in a heap on the floor. Moving closer to Chloe, she realised that she could hear her humming gently, under her breath. Pausing for a moment, she listened intently and smiled as she recognised the tune… Titanium. Really, Chloe? 

Taking a deep breath, Beca leaped onto the bed and landed atop of the redhead, causing her to shriek in fright and slam her notebook closed. That’s strange. Chloe is literally an open book, willing to share anything and everything. Why did she-

She was cut off from her internal questioning when she noticed that the redhead had turned around beneath her, her cheeks flushed red in embarrassment and nervousness. Realising that they were in a compromising position, Beca tried to move away from Chloe; the other girl clearly had other ideas and wrapped her arms around her back, holding her close. Beca could feel the ginger’s chest heaving under her and wondered why she seemed so out of breath.

“So what were you writing in your notebook?” Beca asked curiously, intently studying Chloe’s face for any signs of… anything.

The redhead let her arms fall in shock at the question, and her cheeks flushed bright red once more. She murmured “Nothing. I was just making notes on my Russian Lit text…”

“Your textbook is still closed, Chlo”. Beca pointed out, but she realised that Chloe really did not wish to talk about it and with an exaggerated huff, she got up and went back to her desk. 

With Beca’s attention elsewhere, Chloe smiled adoringly at the younger girl and bit her lip in quiet contemplation. Picking up her notebook, running her fingers over the tattered cover adorning Beca’s messy hand-writing, she held it close to her chest. Beca had leant her the notebook in her Sophmore year after she had begged her for something to write in for her lecture when her own notebook had been finished and forgot to buy a new one. She had used it for that one lecture, and never again. She instead used it for her personal thoughts, ironically enough, they are mostly about the younger girl anyway.

One day she would return it to Beca, but only when she was ready to fully give herself to the girl of her dreams. She knew she did not have much longer until graduation, but she needed to be sure she knew how Beca felt about her and there were signs… even Aubrey had told her.

Shaking herself from her thoughts, she allowed herself to gaze upon the figure of the girl at her desk before returning her attention back to her notebook. Turning to the page she had previously been writing on, she smiled.

Yes. She was in no doubt that she would one day marry this extraordinary and beautiful girl. The heart wants what the heart wants. She wanted Beca Mitchell. She wanted everything about Beca Mitchell. Especially her last name.


A dark-haired girl saw herself on a throne of ripped papers with messy, scrawled handwriting of all her bleeding emotions no one cared to read, for she was invisible as the wind and only felt when strung along by higher thoughts and emotions.

a state of exhaustion inspired by acts of senseless violence 


“Get up,” an ever familiar voice snarled into her ear, a rasp that shivers racing down her spine and chills running through her arms.

Elide forced herself out of the clutches of sleep, where even peace dared not to follow. Vivid claws of death’s grip and destruction’s havoc followed her in the soundless realm, where not another soul save for already shredded one heard and swam the misery.

She was drowning, and drowning, and drowning.

A heavy presence wrapped around her neck, and Elide choked on the chains, her throat adjusting to the tightness. No scream left her as another set of shackles unclipped from the wall and dragged across the floor, her body following, limp and frail. The constant chain on her ankle yanked forward, flares of pain shooting up her shin and tendons.

Her overseer’s grubby hands held no mercy as he walked up the steps, dragging her leash. Her own ribs and bones slammed along the asphalt, old scars reopening against the unsmoothed stone’s sharp edges.

Elide Lochan squinted into the brightness as soon as the metal door flung open, the chattering of life filling her ears, the smell of rotten, decay things no longer swarming her nose.

Her senses had only been replaced by a new time of the deteriorating perishing and soon ceasing.

Elide Lochan nearly wept as she realized that the song of birds and flutter of blowing petals no longer teemed within her lands, but swarmed with broken bones and skulls, pools of red. Sickly stenches blew past her, the shouts and ringing of horrid curses draining out the elation the breaths of fresh air strung along.

The dark-eyed man slapped her harshly across the face, her cheek stinging in protest. He gripped her chin, nails digging into her peeling skin.

“Did you hear what I said?” he growled, a lecherous breath pouring over her face.

“Yes,” Elide whispered, her voice croaking. She had stopped listening when she knew what her final words would be.

“You know what you have to say?”

“I do.”

With a smug, satisfied smirk, her Uncle Vernon took the long collar off her neck, and she silently drew in the fresh air not a murky damp and full of the infectious exhalations of concoctions.

Except the shackle around her ankle still dragged against the forgotten land, her past of flowing crystal rivers and rising revivals almost a figment of her nostalgia.

She watched him click open the large briefcase in the other hand, and widened her eyes at the piece of drooping, white material, larger than her whole body.

Vernon looked her in the eye. “Put it on.”

So she did. Her body was almost naked anyways with Vernon’s handling and the lashes that had torn at her clothes. Only scraps that adhered to her skin from the moist summers offered a little shield of pathetic protection.

His face twitched, and then he grabbed her arm roughly, jerking her forward into his arms.

She trembled at the raw viciousness emanating from him.

“Make one wrong move and I’ll punish you.”

She nodded, her skin prickling. Too long had she endured the chains and the lock, the stinging whip, the suffocation of everything. Too long had she an eternity of silence to fill with her thoughts and gift her with the companion of pain. Too long had her soul been trapped in another’s own sick and twisted one.

Vernon looked down at her in distaste, and Elide could see the suppression of violence in those veins. Her dress was just a temporary barrier before she would be on her knees again, grovelling and pleading and bleeding.

The vicious cycle, except this one would be a momentous mark towards a true future of slavery and suffering.

“You haven’t seen pain yet,” Vernon smiled, licking his lips. “So if you think out of place just once, then think again.” He leaned in closer, calloused hands stroking her rough cheek. “I have not taken you completely yet. Remember that, Elide.”

She turned her head away. She did not have to see the triumphant smile on his face. History had been written by the victors, but to Elide, the victors were the predators.

And she was the prey.

Vernon grabbed her hand and they trudged forward, her legs tripping along the coarse ground that reeked of the forgotten and the deceased. At the fork of the path bridging into two, one crimson red, the other pure darkness, Vernon withdrew his arm.

Bruises reappeared where his hands had been, the purple and red sores marring her body. The chain drew around her ankles.

Vernon nodded at her, and jerked his chin to the red path. Slowly, he stared at her, an unfathomable look pinched onto his face.

Finally, he smirked, and said, “You know what you have to say at the end?”

Elide managed a weak nod, a faint stirring crescending within her stomach. “I do.”

Vernon disappeared within the trail of pitch-black.

The trail rose as a line of red petals drenched with lacquer, and her legs slowly wobbled as she ambled up. Her calves burned, her muscles following atrophy’s hand. The sun hung lowly, another drooping, listless figment of her fractious form.

There was no music as she walked into the clearing. There was no elation as she stared into the faces of the Ilken.

This was wrong. This was not her ceremony. This was a binding of a curse.

Elide walked up the dead trunks severed horizontally. She could see Vernon’s eyes greedily drinking her in as she steadily yet slowly came to the top of the steps. At the crest, she watched as all shadowed heads turned towards her.

Not a single face to represent who she once was.

All darkness.

Even the table was draped in black, the only contrast her white dress, the hem laced with dirt and the smudges of red from the tortuous walk.

The gleam of golden forged together with intricate intersections and sacred symbols blinded her momentarily. A sharp breath escaped her. Next to the crown was another one, looped together with silver metal and smooth surfaces of crystalline and onyx orbs. Together, both pieces pulsed pure power.

A family heirloom.

Ancient and powerful and symbolic.

Elide watched her Uncle Vernon greedily ravenously drink in the sign of the two ancient facets of the Lochan line.

Two crowns that rightfully were hers.

Two crowns that successfully flew from her fingertips.

Two crowns that guided her people into once peace, a mission she had failed.

She stood at her Uncle’s sign, ignoring the drumming of her heartbeat that no longer fluttered dimly like a cut hummingbird’s wings. Darkness seemed to flex around her, and she felt her insides answering the call of vengeance.

A robed figure emerged the the other side where two bent trees swooped down in arching angles. The gray and tattered material covering the frail frame came to a halt in front of the table and gradually raised his hand, where the faintest whispers of melancholy halted.

The hood fell, and Elide stared at the face of an elder whose sunken in face boasted only wrinkles.

The priest stared at the two crowns for what seemed centuries as her ankle threatened to give out under her. By the impatient look on her Uncle’s face, she could assume he felt the same way. Right when Vernon’s fists clenched, the priest cleared his throat and began his opening speech to the dark crowd.

Elide’s eyes glazed over.

This was not life.

This was death.

Silence bestowed upon them, and Elide jerked upright, and realized that all eyes were on her. Vernon stared at her with his mouth set in a grim line.

The priest placed a hand over his heart. “Do you, Elide Lochan, take Vernon as your husband, to cherish and love him until death do you part?”

Until death.


Vernon’s icy stare had her rooted in place.

The practiced words, the first words she’d remembered from being imprisoned into this hellhole. The words that she’d repeated over and over again in hopes of one different alteration.

Her ankle throbbed, and Elide closed her eyes.

“I do.”

She didn’t see if Vernon dared to visibly sigh in relief. The priest hobbled back to the stand, and drew a curved, black blade, the hilt wavering in his feeble grip.

Vernon took the blade, and held out his wrist.

No scars, no blemishes.

He pressed the cold steel into Elide’s palms.

The priest droned, “Complete the blood oath and I declare you both joined in matrimony.”

A goblet sat on the platform, hot coals cracking within the metal. Elide and Vernon were ushered at polar sides of the ancient cup, her uncle’s steely and dark eyes triumphant. He already wore the outlines of the crown on his head, and Elide felt sorrow and shame shoot through her veins.

This should not be legacy.

She watched Vernon slash his wrist, and three drops of blood plunked into the goblet, a flare of flames and sizzling of sucking.

The priest handed the bloodied dagger and pressed the warm hilt into her palms.

Vernon exhaled loudly, licking his lips once again.

Those lips had sucked on her skin, had ruined her sense of affection, had promised to do worse.

She gripped the dagger.

But did not hold out her wrist.

The darkness expanded.

Elide Lochan lashed out and curved the dagger horizontally. Let the turbulence and chaos raging within her brewed and cultivated by her own Uncle, and allow her wrist to flick.

A clean slice, thick and heavy. Deadly.

She stared at the dissembled, and back up at the priest whose jaw had dropped open.

“He can’t punish me if he’s dead,” she said by way of explanation.

Disbelief flooded the priest’s face, and she didn’t blame him.

The need to survive and the call of freedom had been too large, and she had answered her dreams, of which Vernon’s death the first step to walk down her own path carved for and by herself.

She watched the remains of Vernon’s head loll to the side, mouth gaping and eyes struck open in an almost betrayal. The squelching noises came to a halt while Vernon’s own cold body laid perfectly still, a redemption fulfilled.

A beheading. A tipping back from the unbalanced scales.

She felt a dark pulse wrap around her, flattening against her skin. Almost a soothing.

The priest held up the queen’s crown again, discarding the king’s onto the golden table.

Elide shook her head, staring at the golden laurels that had belonged to her ancestors.

She was the rightful queen of Perranth and Morath. Yet since she was the last heir, she was the rightful king.

She was wear what was hers.

She would reclaim what had been stolen from her.

The priest shook his head. “You cannot be a king.”

Elide Lochan straightened her spine and squared her shoulders. “Then you can be the king. But watch the queen conquer.”

She’d start her own vicious cycle if she could not reclaim what was hers.

“No,” a deep, male voice rasped.

The priest faltered, grasping the king’s crown in one hand, the queen’s in another.

Elide turned around.

Eyes dark as the night sky streaking without a single star, blazing an aura of will and dominance, erecting a strength of a thousand men, a towering stature of corded and roped muscle slashed Elide’s sight.

Her heart dropped.

She knew the stories those in Morath’s dungeons whispered and weeped. Listened the each word carefully as each syllable were her salvation. She knew of this male, this dangerous, feral creature. The Hunter who had been to Hell’s entrance and survived unscathed. Those who were his prey always failed the game. Those who were his prey did not live to see another day. Those who were his prey became a forgotten speck of ash in history.

The Hunter’s rage stormed the flames of Hell, with a heart impenetrable as Heaven’s gates.

The Devil’s Mind, Death’s Right Hand, the Executioner.

Elide Lochan met the onyx eyes of none other than the Lorcan Salvaterre, the Silencer.

She did not wished to be silenced today, not tomorrow. Or the next.

“He is not king,” the dark-haired male commanded, voice carrying voluminous depths. “Nor are you or I.”

Elide sucked in a breath.

The priest coughed. “Who am I crowning?”

Elide twirled around to the robed figure, and breathed out, “I am the queen and the king. I am the rightful heir denied what was mine.”

She would not stay silent.

The Hunter simultaneously growled, “The girl has killed my prey, and thus I claim her in return.”

The darkness fell around them.

Elide could not turn around to see Lorcan Salvaterre’s expression as the priest hurried forward and crowned her with the king’s emblem, and pressed the queen’s crown into her hands, tainted with the blood of the now deceased corpse.

And the shouts began. 

Home || Park Jinyoung

Originally posted by jypnior

Title: Home ~ Park Jinyoung


Genre: Fluff

A/N: This is a strange idea that I’ve had stuck in my head for a while. It’s basically just a CEO!Park Jinyoung AU X Child!Reader. I have no idea what caused me to think this was a thing that needed to happen, but hey, it didn’t turn out to bad and I didn’t realize how much I actually needed this in my life until now. So without further a do, please enjoy xx

Park Jinyoung never had a time in his life where he truly felt pain. He had always been a successful man. Throughout his entire life he had grown up in a rich and loving family. Never once had he felt betrayed or depressed. His parents would come in, tuck him in every night, read him his favorite bed time story, and then kiss him goodnight before reminding him how much he meant to them. Not soon after the night was over, he would wake up to the fresh smell of pancakes that his housekeeper would wake up early and place in the shape of a heart on his favorite Ryan the Bear plate. To say the least, he always admired his childhood.

In his teen years as well as his college years, he found himself becoming the center of attention for all the ladies. He had to admit, he was amazingly handsome. There wasn’t a man in his class that didn’t want to be him. The girls all tried to get with him by confessing their hearts out to him in the most sincere way the possibly could and made him the tastiest chocolates he ever had. As much as he enjoyed the love and attention he got from his peers, he was a modest and respective man and preferred to be on his own and take his life slow. He had a couple girlfriends in his life, but no one really stuck out and seemed to want to be with him for him, they only wanted him for his looks.

Despite having what a person could describe as a perfect life, he never really felt complete. It was like something was missing from his life. At first he thought it was because all of his closest friends were settling down, starting a cute little family on their own, but Jinyoung wasn’t like that. As jealous as he felt from time to time about not having a family, he promised himself that he was going to stay single so he could focus on what truly made him happy, working in the music industry. He was a manager for one of the biggest labels in Korea and that meant that he would rarely get to spend time and take care of a family as is due to the fact of being busy with all the idols and groups he had signed under his label.

It wasn’t until one cold winter morning when he finally realized on what he had been missing his entire life. Jinyoung was walking down the nearly abandoned streets of Seoul, with it being only 3:30 am, not many people were out and about. He didn’t have to get up as early as he did, but he felt this strange feeling in his chest that seemed to be telling him that he had to go out and just walk. So he followed what his gut told him to do and threw on the quickest pair of dress pants and a nice shirt, grabbed his favorite suit jacket and left his apartment just like that. And now here he was, following in the direction his heart was leading him to.

He gave a couple quick glances and smiles towards the friendly city goers as the past by and shoved his hands in his pockets as he continued down the streets. He turned a corner to an unfamiliar street and swallowed hard, nervous about what could be down this way. His heart began to race as if it was telling him that this was it, this is where he was meant to go. Jinyoung stopped walking for a couple minutes and took his chance to look around at his surroundings. The street was dimly lit, only one street light seemed to be working but even that one flickered every now and then as if it would go out at any second. Tall buildings and dark buildings seemed to crowd the street, making it look smaller and narrower than it actually was. Jinyoung almost had to squint his eyes as he noticed a small shadowy figure under a small hutch that was attached to the side of one of the buildings. He decided to take a closer look and walked closer to the figure, unsure of what was ahead of him. Once he arrived, he crouched down to the height of the tiny hutch and he swore his heart almost dropped at the sight in front of him.

Sat under the hutch was a small girl who looked like they couldn’t be much older than the age of 5. Her body was stick thin, only small tattered up rags covered her body. Her arms and her legs were covered completely in goose bumps from shivering so much in the cold. Jinyoung reached out to her and touched her arm slightly. He gasped at how cold her body felt. His eyes traveled down to her finger tips that he swore looked blue. At this moment, Jinyoung couldn’t tell if the young girl was alive or not. Luckily she was breathing, he could tell from the rise and fall of her chest. He reached out and brush her scraggly hair out of her eyes and smiled at the sleeping young girl.

“Yah,” He said quietly in his husky morning voice as he shook her small frame ever so gently afraid that he would hurt her if he shook any harder.

The little girl stirred in her sleep and turned her body towards Jinyoung. Her eyes fluttered open as her jaw stretched out into a long yawn. Her own [e/c] eyes looked into Jinyoung’s darker colored ones. She quickly flinched backwards at the sight of the older man in front of her and began to tremble.

“W-Who are you? You’re not my mom!” She screamed as a tear began to leak from one of her eyes.

Jinyoung felt a pain strike his heart for the first time since he was child. He had never met a little girl who was in such bad shape as this one. She looked so terrified to see a person it almost looked as if she had met the devil himself. Her eyes looked bloodshot as her skin looked as white as snow, probably from being in the cold all night, but needless to say, Jinyoung felt as if he needed to help this young girl.

“It’s alright, you can trust me. I won’t hurt you,” He stated as he looked back at the younger girl with sincerity in his eyes.

The girl just sat in the corner of her hutch, refusing to move and not taking her eyes off the man in front of her in case he planned on doing something to her.

“I want my mom,” She whimpered.

“I don’t know where you mom is,” He replied to the girl, “But can you tell me when the last time you saw her was?”

The girl was silent for a couple of seconds before speaking up.

“She dropped me off here 2 months ago and told me to wait here. She gave me this cloth and backpack with food. I haven’t moved since.”

Jinyoung furrowed his brows and looked at the girl quizzically.

“She just left you here?” He asked as the young girl nodded in response.

“Now can you please leave in case my mom comes back?” She asked as she turned her back from the man and closed her eyes to sleep again.

Jinyoung knew that he should have listened to the little girl’s request, but he couldn’t help but feel a strong feeling in his chest that was telling him to reach out to her and take her in. He knew that it was uncommon for a woman to just leave her child in the street, not only just that but with a bag full of necessities one would need to survive. This child seemed convinced that her mother was coming back, but somehow Jinyoung knew that she wasn’t, but the little girl just couldn’t seem to understand that. He understands though, if his own mother would have done that to him at her age, he too would want to wait as long as he needed to in order to see his mother again.

“Yah,” He called out once more, “At least let me take you inside my workplace so you can get warmed up. It’s awfully cold outside.”

The young girl shook her head and curled up into a little ball.

“We have a hot coco machine, I can make you some if you want,” He said.

“Mommy said that men cox little girls out and promise them goodies so that way the cant take their virginity, whatever that means,” She replied.

Jinyoung couldn’t help but chuckle at the intelligence this little girl had.

“They aren’t real men if they do that,” he told her, “A real man helps out those in need, and you my dear are in need of my help, so please let me help you. If you want, afterwards I can take you back here.”

The girl looked up at Jinyoung questioningly and hesitantly stood up, pulling a small stuffed rabbit behind her. She walked carefully over to Jinyoung before nodding to signal him that she would go with him. Jinyoung remembered how his parents would always warn him about crossing the street without holding an adults hand when he was the little girl’s age, but he figured that if he wanted to prove to this child that he wasn’t some creepy man, it would be better to just let her walk on her own.

He gripped his knuckles tightly as he made the young girl walk in front of him so that way he could keep an eye on her and make sure that she was safe. He told her the directions on how to get to his work building, following closely behind her in case of any danger that might cross their pathes. Lucky for them, they made it to Jinyoung’s label without any harm done to them. He watched as the girl looked up at the large building, admiring the pictures of the different groups and artists that we displayed on the outside. She looked up at Jinyoung and cocked her head to the side.

“You work here?” She asked, “My mommy said that only talented people get into places like this.”

“This is my label,” He replied, “I own and run all those bands in the pictures.”

The girls looked up at the pictures in amazement and back at Jinyoung. She let out a small yawn before rubbing her eyes. She looked as if she was about to fall asleep any second. Jinyoung crouched down to her height once more and looked at her in her beautiful eyes.

“Do you want to come in? You can sleep on my sofa in my office,” He said.

The girl nodded and hesitantly reached her arms up to Jinyoung. He sent her a warm smile and lifted her up in his arms. She laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes and Jinyoung slowly made his way inside the building, greeting his secretary who he was grateful for coming in at such an early hour of the morning. He then made his way to the elevator and pressed the button that led to the floor his office was on.

Once the elevator arrived at his floor, Jinyoung stepped out and quickly walked into his office, closing the heavy wooden door behind him. He then set the girl down on his sofa and began searching his office for a blanket to cover her with. The girl looked around his office and studied the items with in it. He had many record awards placed along the walls and the shelves. She squinted as she tried to read the shiny gold name plate that was placed on the edge of his desk.

“Park Jinyoung,” She read it out loud.

Jinyoung turned towards her at the mention of his name. The girl pointed at the plate she read outloud, causing Jinyoung to smile as he found a blanket on the top shelf in one of his closets.

“That’s my name,” He said as he walked back over to her, placing the blanket on top of her.

The girl laid down and cuddled her rabbit close to her chest. She looked up at Jinyoung with tired eyes as she made herself comfortable on her sofa. Judging by the way she smiled as she laid her head down on the soft material, it seemed as if she hadn’t slept on something comfortable for a while. He stroked her tiny head gently before walking back over to his desk to get some work done.

“My name is [y/n],” She spoke up suddenly.

“Well it’s very nice to meet you, [y/n],” Jinyoung said as he looked up from a stack of papers on his desk.

“…you too…” She muttered as she fell into a deep slumber for the first time in a long time.

[y/n] peaked open one of her eyes as she finally woke up from her morning nap. She stayed laying down, too comfortable and warm to get up and move. She snuggled into her stuffed rabbit more as her ears perked up at the sound of two men having a conversation, one of them she recognized as Jinyoung.

“…I found her on the street all by herself. You didn’t expect me to just leaver her there, did you? I’m not heartless,” Jinyoung said as he began to pace in front of one of his assistants.

“But she’s a complete stranger, Jinyoung,” A deeper voice replied.

Jinyoung let out and exaggerated sigh as he finally stopped his pacing to face the man once more. [y/n] finally sat up slightly and rubbed her eyes to see what all the commotion going on was about. Knowing that she was involved made her more curious to see what was going on. There stood along with the man known as Jinyoung was a taller and more built looking man. He had brownish-redish dyed hair that was flat against his forehead. She noticed that his appearance looked far more intimidating than Jinyoung’s. The man wore a pair of black skinny jeans and black turtle neck that went along with a black blazer. The man turned his gaze towards the young girl who was staring back at him. He stopped talking to Jinyoung and made his was over towards the girl on the sofa. [y/n] looked back at him with terrified eyes as he grew closer to her frame. Once he was right in front of her, he knelt down to her height and smiled at her. Jinyoung followed behind and stood behind the other.

“You don’t have to be afraid, [y/n],” Jinyoung spoke in a gentle tone, “He’s not going to hurt you.”

[y/n] didn’t fully trust Jinyoung yet, but she somehow knew that no matter what, he wouldn’t let her get into any danger that would potentially hurt her in any way.

“So you’re [y/n],” the man asked, “My name is Lim Jaebum, but you can just call me JB, okay?”

The younger girl nodded as she looked back up to Jinyoung, her stomach growling afterwards making her blush slightly. Both men laughed at her reaction. JB stood up from his position, never breaking eye contact with [y/n].

“Sounds like someone’s hungry,” He stated as he turned back to Jinyoung and placed a hand on his shoulder, “You better take care of that.”

JB’s voice sounded strict. [y/n] could tell that he wasn’t talking just about feeding her by the way Jinyoung seemed to grow tense at his words.

“I will,” He said as he watched JB leave his office.

Jinyoung sat on the edge of the sofa next to [y/n]. He reached down and stroked her head gently, smiling the entire time. [y/n] sighed contently at the touch of his hand.

“Let’s go get you something to eat, yeah?” Jinyoung asked as he stood up and walked towards the door, waiting for [y/n] to follow.

[y/n] stood up from the sofa and grabbed her rabbit before walking up to Jinyoung, grabbing his hand without hesitation before the two walked out the office and towards the lunch room. Jinyoung couldn’t help but feel a flutter form in his stomach as she grabbed his hand. Little did he know that [y/n] would soon become a huge part of his life.

Soon enough a couple of months had passed since Jinyoung had met [y/n]. [y/n] never left Jinyoung’s side since that day. She knew that even though her mother had told her to stay put and that she would be back for her someday, she wasn’t going to come back. Something in her gut had told her that, but she couldn’t help but feel so attached to Jinyoung as if he was her own father. Jinyoung had called many adoption centers and stations to get any news on [y/n] to see if they knew anything about the girl or her past. Sadly, he was unsuccessful in finding out anything.

It’s not like her minded though, he enjoyed spending his days taking her to the local park or just to his work building in general. [y/n] got along well with the idols and staff within the label., particularly one man and general. He was a trainee rapper/singer who went by the stage name of Bam Bam. He was basically like a child hiding in a middle aged man’s body. He would offer to spend time playing and entertaining [y/n] in his free time for Jinyoung when he had work to get done. No matter how many idols [y/n] would get close to, there was no one she loved more in the building than Jinyoung himself.

Since [y/n] didn’t have a home, Jinyoung decided to take her in for the time being. He found himself growing attached to the girl more and more as the day’s went by. He loved spending time playing, snuggling, and just taking care of [y/n]. She made his life more interesting and worth something. It was like she was the missing link that he needed in his life all of this time.

Jinyoung looked in the mirror on the wall of his bedroom and straightened his black tie before walking out of the room and into the living room where [y/n] was quietly watching a cartoon on the television. She turned as she heard Jinyoung’s footsteps enter the room. She smiled and run up to the man, clinging onto his leg almost immediately.

“You look so handsome, Jinyoungie!” She exclaimed at the older man making him crack a smile as he reached down to pat his head.

“Are we going into your work today? Bam Bam said he had a new game that he wanted to teach me!”

Jinyoung laughed at her enthusiasm and shook his head.

“Actually, I had something else in mind that I have been meaning to do for a while. I hope it all works out though, I don’t know what I would do if it didn’t,” He replied.

“Where are we going then?”

Jinyoung reached down and picked up [y/n] in his arms, giving her and eskimo kiss before answering her question.

“Why don’t you go put on your prettiest dress and we’ll find out together okay?”

[y/n] nodded and ran into her bedroom to get changed quickly. She quickly ran back out, her hair still in a knotted mess as she struggled to put on her fancy pink dress up shoes. Jinyoung sat down to help her out before the two grabbed a quick breakfast and left their small apartment.


Jinyoung held [y/n]’s hand tightly as they entered a large white building. The young girl looked around in amazement at the fancy place before looking up at Jinyoung with questioning eyes.

“What’s this place?” She asked him.

“It’s a court house, it’s where a person can come to get legal work done,” Jinyoung replied.

[y/n] didn’t question any further, still not quite knowing what was going on, but she trusted Jinyoung. She knew that he was a smart man and knew what he was doing. That was all she needed to know to understand that he was doing what was best for her in his life.

Jinyoung talked to an older looking man before following him into a room. Jinyoung took a seat down in the room they were led to, placing [y/n] on his lap. A funny looking old man walked out with a document and handed it to Jinyoung. Jinyoung carefully read over the paper before signing his name with a smile, then sliding the paper to [y/n], handing her the pen.

“What’s this?” She asked.

“Legal adoption papers,” He replied, “It’ll will give me fully custody over you.”

“You mean-“

“I want to be you new Daddy [y/n],” He replied, “Only if you want me to be.”

[y/n] was speechless. She looked over at the paper and back to Jinyoung, thinking about all the times he took care of her and made her happy. She loved him, very much to say the least. No one would ever come close to being her parent though. But Jinyoung was different. She had never met a person who had ever loved her as much as he did to her. It made her happy. Is this what she really wanted?


[y/n] smiled before writing her name out in her neatest handwriting before handing it back to Jinyoung. Jinyoung took the paper and handed it to the man who stamped it and declared full custody of [y/n] onto Jinyoung.

“I love you, Daddy!” [y/n] declared as she threw her tiny arms around Jinyoung’s neck.

Jinyoung hugged her back, too happy to say anything in return. He never thought having a daughter would make as happy as he was now. That thing he mentioned before about having a missing piece in his life, this was it. A family. A child that he could call his own. This is everything he wanted.

Last Kiss-3

(1) (2)

AN: Sorry, I totally forgot about this fic. I feel so bad about leaving it hanging.

The door was flung open, I was jerked to my feet, and slammed against the wall. I heard Katie let out a whimper. “Agent (Y/L/N), looks like you’re going to be more trouble then you’re worth!”

“Kill me, and you’ll  bring the entire wrath of the FBI down on you. Do you really think a murdered agent is going to go ignored?” 

He whirled around looking at Katie, a laugh erupting from his body. “Maybe, I’ll just kill her instead…” He jerked her up from the floor, starting to drag her out of the room. Katie started to scream and cry. “SHUT UP!”

He slapped her across the face, knocking her out. “Please, don’t hurt her. She’s got a family, that loves her. I’ll give you anything you want, if you drop her off unharmed and alive at the nearest hospital.”

Keep reading

But…assuming it is Eleven breaking down against the wall….that means she obviously got new clothes. They’re not tattered or torn or covered in the slime from the Upside Down. Connecting this with the very real possibility from Season One of Hopper somehow knowing where she’s hiding, they may be in contact. He may be hiding her and taking care of her. He manage to save Will, but he couldn’t save his daughter. This is his chance to save her, to keep her safe