main masterlist under the cut, still in the works <3
Requests are open ! Please read these guidelines if you wish to send one in
SHIFTING:
main dr currently: stranger things dr, hogwarts golden trio era dr, fourth wing dr (?)
DR MASTERLISTS: coming soon....
things i'd like shifters to remember
How Awareness Works In Shifting, What Happens To Your Awareness Here When You Shift, and 'Do Other Versions of Me Shift?'; in my perception and what I see likely ౨ৎ
reminders for if you haven't shifted/haven't shifted fully
Manifestation success story (uni application)
FANFICTION
EMPYREAN SERIES:
multiple character:
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠; various empyrean series men and how it feels to love them
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staying up past midnight to write fanfiction about the things, people, and characters i love. allowing myself to indulge in the ideas i love to share and out into shape. i missed this fulfilment and im so glad its back
Thinking of cuddles with Eddie (writing this to go to sleep. If any of my irls find this, yes I am this way and I won’t apologise)
^O^
a/n: this is a draft from DECEMBER i havent touched and cant be bothered adding to lmao enjoy
He is so. Warm. You barely need a blanket, but he always insists on keeping you comfortable, so you comply.
You lay in his bed, wind faintly rattling the windows of the trailer. You’re against his chest, his fingertips pressed against the bare skin of your shoulder, his hand and wrist slipped under your shirt, tracing idle patterns.
“Did you enjoy sitting in on my campaign today?” He asks gently.
“Mhm. But I think I’ll have to write you a list of things I need translated.”
He snorts, turning his head to you a little. “Sure. Whatever you need.”
You nod, settling against him. “I like watching you do them. You always have so much fun.”
“That’s why we play.” He sighs, settling against the pillows more. “You really should join us at some point.
“I don’t know if I’d be able to keep up. And I don’t know if I’d fit.”
“You definitely would. And as for keeping up, I’d force the others into going slow for you. Maybe like some kind of slice of life shit you seem to enjoy.” He smiles when that gets a chuckle out of you.
“Yeah, maybe. One day. Just gotta build the confidence.”
“No time like the present.”
You play with his rings on the hand that sits on your stomach, and he lets you. It’s like a self regulation tool for you both. Time to decompress.
“You’re so cozy.” The words escape you in a contented mumble, your body relaxing even more. Your heart beats against your chest like a metronome, pulsing against him. He relishes in knowing you’re genuinely here and not some imaginary friend he got too close to.
“You’re my safe person. My favourite.”
He closes his eyes to compose himself, using the silence and quiet to ease him, to wane himself from being flustered at your words.
“You’re my favourite, too. My only. Nobody else but you.” He murmurs, making you grin, heart racing despite the calm.
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henry creel x reader nsfw headcanons ༚༅༚˳ . ♱ . ˳༚༅༚
MDNI please genuinely. i can't control who reads what but do not directly interact!! please!!
content tidbits; virgin henry, afab and/or f!reader (female genitalia mentioned), praise/degradation, switch!henry, use of powers in the bedroom, mindscape!henry but more domesticated, breeding kink ouup, marking/biting, oral (both receiving), swearing, edging, sadomasochism, sex under the influence (a little), food play, light bdsm, brief anal mention
wordcount;
a/n; this is my first published smuttttt im nervous. praying to the tumblr gods no major irls find this post. i have little shame but i also do a smidge, ENJOY!
fic radio; Around My Neck - FINNEAS
mans is a virgin until you. its obvious. he isn't oblivious, but he's inexperienced. until you his knowledge of sex is very vanilla. whether you're also a virgin or not, he still wants your first time together to be with just as much depth regardless.
gets pussy drunk FASTTTT it does not matter what part of him is closest to it, he will melt. he will drown in you.
SWITCH. Submissive in the sense he likes the idea of feeling rather than controlling, but also dominant in the sense he just generally gets off on being a superior. It depends on the day, time, and circumstance
He likes the idea of almost getting caught. There aren’t many chances for that to take place, but the thought makes him all 😼
heavy on sir/mistress titles. thrives off that shit.
will bite you when he's close
wants to bring up the idea of using his powers, in one way or another, for sex/edging purposes
can play the role of a sadist or masochist, the overall idea of pain into pleasure gets him heady
gets horny FAST when drunk. he is a lightweight, but that doesn’t stop him from ripping your shirt off
food play. will lick whipped cream off you, but isn't too huge on that being reciprocated
EYE CONTACT EYE CONTACT EYE CONTACT WILL STARE INTON YOUR SOUL
Isn't really loud unless subbing or getting close, mostly just letting out breathy sounds and groans. but when he's loud he IS loud
Loves missionary, but will also take you however you wish. he isn’t opposed to going from behind while you lay down, or on your side. anything that gives him full access to touching you is his ideal.
Will use that slutty little tie to tie you. or you tie him. may on rare occasion use his vecna tentacles for bondage LMFAO only if you wish
lowkey prefers fingering over oral? he enjoys using his hands, and vice versa.
potentiallyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy would do smth with anal. on him.
he adores when you have a balance between being all authoritative to then doing everything he says, but he loves you enough to be in any positions you wish if you have specific preferences
sex with him is some trance-like bs. he will be latching onto you, not stopping until you both can not move. he has a bad habit of being all consuming, meaning as long as you are near, he will drink from the fountain that is you, for all eternity.
STAY WITH ME; henry creel/mr whatsit x fem!hopper!reader (part 001)
synopsis; as a lure to get will, eleven, and the others to make their way into Henry's grip of obliteration faster, he caught you between his claws first. but what he sees in the process isn't just someone who will fight back or run. he finds someone who has had to survive on their own for far too long. and it peels away the cool layers he has, day by day.
content tidbits; (possibly) dead dove, reader has depression and OCD, suicidal ideation, hospital mention, reader takes medication, s/h mention, Henry and reader bond over mental illness lmfao, the mind flayer is almost like Venom but more of a puppet master than a symbiotic ally, canon compliant (for the most part, if parts don't line up with canon, let your subconscious handle the details), age gap but it’s not a major theme (reader is 21 and Henry is 27, aged him down bc I don’t know how to go about writing him older lmfao) former Eddie x reader (platonic), platonic Steve x reader, season 5, trauma from previous seasons, enemies to lovers themes, death mentions, swearing, threats, Henry tries to be manipulative but doesn’t get very far, reader is in the mindscape for 2 'months' before Holly gets there (courtesy of Henry extending time there rather than time lining up to the real world, in the real world it's actually just a week passed until she gets there), Henry The Therapist, eventual smut (in later parts), dr brenner is his own tw, henry's trauma, use of y/n
more content warnings will be added/changed per chapter!!
word count; 5.3k, mostly proofread, will likely proofread more over time
a/n: so i know i said i was working on the eddie fic. but henry as mr whatsit is in my mind heavyy rn. i have been depressed asf recently, and only lately have i started recovering/feeling better, and i wanna share that in my work. i also just love henry paired w forbidden love/enemies to lovers, so this lets me have that too!
song inspo; click here!
You were closer to breaking now than you had been in the last 3 years.
You grew up watching your little sister lose herself to a vicious illness. Your mother leaving, the weight of loss unbearable for her. You had seen the town you live in fall into the trap of a version of itself that was parallel to Hell. You watched as innocent children battled monsters. You watched your adoptive sister be responsible for the fate of the world, more times than you can count. You watched people you cared for die. You were tortured in a Russian spy base. Just to get out of it to find out your father had been obliterated, and your sister was moving across the country.
That was when things got to a point that they had never been before. A deep, visceral despair that would not lessen.
You were offered a chance to leave Hawkins too, but the idea of leaving behind the last traces of your father made your heart crush against your ribs. So you stayed. You stayed, moving in with Steve, who kept you afloat through it all.
Countless nights of him having to call Robin to come over, because he didn’t know how to tell you that you wouldn’t find a reprieve from the pain by killing yourself. Days where Nancy would stay by your side from dawn until dusk, making sure you were somewhat functional. But all you could do in the moments you weren’t sobbing was lie in bed and think of how life had been stripped from you.
You were not physically dead, but without your father, either of your sisters, your mother, any semblance of the normalcy you used to cling to, you may as well have been dead in every other way.
Then came the spring of 1986. Right when you finally felt like life would offer you a chance to keep living. You had landed a part time job at Family Video. You were thinking of college in the coming years. You were spending time with The Party, what was left of it. And you had befriended Eddie Munson. Who found you crying at the pier one night when he just wanted to come smoke.
Eddie did more for your healing than anything else could have.
And then the Upside Down opened its jaws again. And it took him, along with half of Hawkins.
Sarah, your mother, Eleven, your father, and now Eddie. Every person who truly breathed life into you had left you gasping for oxygen.
It was 12:31 AM the day after Hawkins split open when Steve Harrington called an ambulance for you after you told him you wanted to commit suicide.
The few days following were a whirl of medications, hospital beds, therapy appointments, ‘get well’ cards, Dustin visiting you with Steve, to give you a collection of guitar picks Wayne had salvaged from Eddie’s room. Eleven had come back to Hawkins after her own uphill battle, and you held each other, sobbing into the hospital sheets.
And then came your father, walking through the hospital doors. It made you think you had actually died. Or the meds were too much. But after multiple retelling from him of what had happened across the globe, you realised that he was not a spirit, nor an illusion. You, he, and El, sat in your hospital room, and wept for the time lost.
About 3 weeks later, you were sent home. The hospital would have had you sent somewhere out of Hawkins to recover, but the town had by now been put on lockdown, it wasn’t possible unless you had caused any legitimate harm to yourself. You were sent back to a freshly repaired version of the cabin with a schedule of long lasting therapy sessions, and enough antidepressants to sedate a small pony.
But you had your dad. You had El. That counted for something.
Until the stakes of Vecna’s plans fell back into focus, and suddenly it was like you were back to normal to the world around you. Obviously, you weren’t. The meds were helping, as was the familiarity of family. People tried to be around for you, but there was never any time for them to really check anymore. You weren’t angry. You understood. But the moments you would lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking of when you saw Eddie’s body, or the pure agony you felt as Steve called 911, or the way the tears drowned you into near catatonia more times in the last year that you could count; you just wished someone would see it.
That wish granted you more than you bargained for.
After a crawl the week before the start of November went wrong, you were stranded. Trying to make your own way back to the WSKQ, to grab some resources and head back to the others. But to your luck- your fucking car broke down. That was the first crack in the layer of composure you forced upon yourself. You tried a payphone not far away. No service, and you were left with no cash to try again. By now, the tears had started. The panic, the feeling of things never getting better. But you went back to the car, and used your walkie to contact someone, anyone. You got through to Steve.
"Jesus, where are you? You should have been back half an hour ago! We need the maps and tools now, what are you doing?"
"Steve, my fucking car broke down- I'm sorry. I tried to call for a tow on a payphone, but there was no service, and I ran out of coins-"
"Fuck sake, we don’t have time for this! You need to find a way to The Squawk now, get the maps, and meet us back at the cabin, now."
"Steve, I can’t go walking by myself- Steve? Steve?? STEVE?!"
He had hung up his end of the walkie.
"FUCK!!!" You yelled, sobbing. You threw the walkie out of the car. Which made you panic more, because you didn’t have a way to reach anyone now.
You wailed and clawed at yourself. You felt like a failure. An inconsolable, sinking failure.
And then the light in the phone booth flickered, in the near distance.
You jumped from your car, and sprinted to it. You would take any chance, any sign, of a signal. You dialled the number for the towing company that you had shacked away in your memory, and waited.
A dial tone.
Waiting.
Ringing.
When the call picked up, the silence aside from static was absolute.
"....Hello? Hello? Is anyone there?"
No one was there.
Aside from an all too familiar growl, squelching, crackling, high pitched.
The phone slipped from your hand, and in your periphery, you could just catch the tall inhumane silhouette.
You didn’t even have a chance to scream before claws grabbed at the front of your shirt, and you were plunged into darkness.
In the middle of the deserted road, the broken walkie crackled to life with the frantic calls of Robin's voice. All she was met with was a distant, guttural cry of something monstrous.
----------
When you woke, everything was a hazy, distant dream. The grass beneath you was soft, almost plush. The sky was blue, littered with white clouds, fresh breeze, carrying the scent of a new spring. Spring. It was spring, in November. Nothing of this was right.
You sat up, and looked around. A field, plain and clean, full of wildflowers and grassy hills. You tried to gather your thoughts, but it was as if you had been drunk before this. There was only a few clips of recognition. The car, your tears, the despair, and the phone booth. And a chill, that went straight from your toes, to your head, and into your soul.
"You're awake."
You yelled, and turned.
There behind you, stood a man. A fair skinned man, with blond hair, cerulean eyes, in a brown suit, a matching fedora atop his head. And a smal, pleasant smile, that looked far to rehearsed. There was something far too familiar about him.
You were stationary, staring at him for a good 30 seconds. Then you bolted. You sprinted as fast as your legs could endure, but not fast enough. You found a house. A house you had seen before, in a much worse for wear state, in a much worse for wear place. But your survival instincts led you to the front door, yanking it open. You fell backwards, as the man stood in the doorway.
"I'd watch where you're going, if I were you. Don’t want you to get hurt now, would we?" He took a step forward, extending you a hand. You slapped it away, scrambling back. You stood to turn and run, but again, somehow, he stood before you, not allowing you to take a step in his previously opposite direction.
"You don’t need to run. I won’t hurt you. You are safe here."
"Fucking bullshit." You snap, standing, stumbling back away from him. You now knew better than to run. He seemed almost amused at your foul language.
"Come inside, Y/n." He tries to placate.
"How do you know my name?" You snap yet again.
"I know plenty about you. It's why I saved you. From the monster."
"That was you?" Your incredulous tone makes his smile widen. "No, that- fuck- nobody else was there. My car broke down, I tried to call for help, and-"
"And the monster got you. Now you're here, where it is safe."
"Nothing is fucking safe to me anymore. I don’t trust you, I don’t trust this, and I don’t trust that me getting snatched by a demogorgon was anything casual!"
"....Snatched by a what?" He tilted his head.
"Demogorgon. That thing, the monster. It's called a demogorgon."
"According to who?'
"Me. My friends. Everyone aware they exist."
"And how do you know they exist?"
"How do you know they exist?"
"Because I saved you from it."
"Then why don’t you know it's name?"
"Because I've seen them plenty, but they've never had a name."
That made you pause.
"You've seen them plenty."
You caught the way his eyes widen a fraction "Yes. Because they stalk around in the woods. One of them came further, to near you. It got you."
"They only live in an alternate dimension, which this is nothing like. How is it they just roam through woods somewhere I am supposedly safe? And 'it got me'. How could it have got me if you 'saved me'?"
"Don't be difficult."
"Don't be a fucking liar."
"I am many things, but I am not a liar."
"Then tell me this: who are you?"
"Henry Whatsit."
"Your last name isn't fucking Whatsit, that's a character from a book. Fine, Hen-....."
You look back at the house. Then to him.
"Henry."
"Yes."
"This is the Creel house."
"Is it? Is that the family that lived here perviously?"
"I think you know."
"And what makes you think that?"
You stand up, and take a closer look at him. "How old are you?"
His head tilts again. "27."
"Henry Creel killed his family. Enough years have passed to where if he was alive today, he'd be 27. Your name is Henry, you're 27, and you happen to live in his house? And the monsters, that Henry, now Vecna, and yes, we call him Vecna, don't fucking ask, controls the demogorgons, and you just HAPPEN to live in the only place they roam?"
He's silent. He walks up to you, and you know better than to move.
"You're more perceptive than I thought."
He leans in closer.
"That's dangerous."
You're thrown back into an abyss of darkness before you can even respond.
----
A bed as soft as clouds held your body as you came to.
It was like an illusion of safety. But god, was it a relief. It made your heart clench under your bones. As if all of the pain from the last 5 years had been washed off, like dirt down a shower drain. And it was warm, hypnotically so. But you forced the trance away, sat up, and looked around. A bedroom. A guest room, you would assume- but what caught your eye the most was how intentional the design was. It was full of items, trinkets, colour palettes that you desire for yourself. Yet it still had a distinct 1950s aura to it.
A flowing melody came from downstairs, something old, sweet, sarchine but not to a point of displeasure. It was then, you realised, you were forced into the house you were earlier outside. Henry's house. Or something akin to its previous state, before it was taken over by ruin and abandon.
You did not want to be stuck here, and you knew the repercussions of running.
But running wasn’t worse than leaving those you love with an unfortunate fate.
You didn’t bother putting on your shoes, or the slippers by the bed. You pushed open the crack left in the door, and crept down the stairs with a stealthy precision you've had no choice but to adapt over time. It was a challenge trying to not put pressure on the creakier steps, but you worked your way down in silence. The front door was just feet away.
The foyer of the house was silent as you didn’t let a single breath slip past you. Your hand was inches from the doorknob, when
"And what do you think you're doing?"
You didn’t even look to the direction of Henry's voice, you just yanked the door open and ran. The wind whipped through your hair as your socks caught on twigs and stones, and you had just made it to the edge of the woods. There was something blocking you. Moreso, pulling you away. You tripped over your feet trying to scramble away, but it yanked you back, all the way into the house. The door slammed behind you and you were swept over the floor, your back hitting the table in the entryway.
Henry locked the door and turned to you. His eyes were now more firm, set on you with an icy intensity.
"If you had given me time, I'd have explained the biggest rule for the time you're here, is to not leave. Especially not to go into the woods. You already broke that."
"Fuck you, and your fucking rules! And how was I meant to know? You abducted me! You haven’t told me anything!"
"I would have, if you had just stayed put. There is no reason to fight me here. I will not hurt you, unless you explicitly disobey me. And considering you weren't told anything yet, I will not harm you. You get a warning. Now, will you get up? Or do I have to look down on you further while explaining everything?"
What an insufferable, pompous cretin.
You manage to stand shakily, though your back persisted in the area of previous impact.
"I apologise for the force, but it was needed. I didn’t feel like chasing you through the woods. Not right now. Now, follow me. Sit in the kitchen, where I can see you. I'll make tea." He politely gestures to the kitchen, leaving you to pause until he was out of sight, then follow.
The kitchen was a comfortable and lush space, a large breakfast bar in the centre, mint and brick orange accents tha sat against sleek black and white furnishings, lifting the room into something startlingly reminiscent of the 1950's. The smell of tea and something sweet, like baking pastries, floated through the room. The whole thing exuded a fake warmth. But you hated that it was something of a known familiarity to you.
You sat at the breakfast bar, Henry's back to you as he steeped a teabag in a teapot.
"Is earl gray okay?"
"I'm not drinking your poison."
He turned, lips slightly quirked up. "If I wanted you poisoned, I would have been far more obvious. I like to make my prey watch what I'm going to do before I catch them. This however, is standard earl gray. Now, is that okay, or do you have different tastes?"
"Just give me it." You grit out.
"I take that as a yes to the flavour. Good, it's my favourite, too."
He grabbed two teacups from a nearby cabinet, two small saucers to sit them on. He pursed one in front of you, and in front of himself -- yet he remained standing on the opposite side of you.
He took a sip, then spoke.
"I imagine you're scared."
"I'm not scared, I just wish you were dead."
"What a lovely pleasantry. Trust me, I know. I haven’t exactly made life easy for you. But that's why I have you here. To make it up to you, to repay you for the troubles I've caused."
"You can do that by letting me go back to my friends and family, and giving up on your mission to blow everything up."
"If I haven't made it clear, you aren’t leaving for now. This is not a prison, but a safe haven. I've seen how you've been recently. You can't pour from an empty cup. You need time. In a space that will accomodate you, provide you with enough time and supplies to get back on your feet, so when you leave, you're well rested, and can do your part."
"I'm not an idiot, I know you have ulterior motives. I see what you do, what you have done. You're posing as this version of you, when you're a slimy, tentacle freak who tries to kill people for personal gain."
Henry stares at you, then shrugs.
"I suppose you're right. I have my.... unconventional methods. But I promise, I am not keeping you here to hurt you. What fun would it be to see you break further? And as for my current disposition, this is simply me, here. Not posing. I can shift states as I wish, but in this place, I am simply myself, no.... additives. You don’t have to believe me. But I hope as time passes, you will see that I only want what's best for you. I see far too much of myself in you to let you rot away unfairly. I'm extending a rare kindness to you, Y/n. I hope you come to be grateful. I am giving you a chance to heal all the pain that you carry. A chance to desire to live despite it."
Something in his words felt far too genuine. You couldn’t piece together which of it was, but it was there.
"I know you have different plans. I'm not here just because you pity me. You have me here for something according to what you want, but I know you won’t tell me. But tell me one thing. What will come at the end of this?"
"Peace. For you, me, everyone involved. I'll have you know that my plans are not as destructive as you believe. I simply wish to rewire the world, the systems that carry it. My goals are much more than a ruthless means to an end. I am doing this to save humanity in more ways than just the simple idea of a wipeout."
He didn’t break eye contact as he took a sip of tea, but you broke it when your gaze moved to watch the steam rise from your own. The mental exhaustion felt like a lead weight sitting on your shoulders, trying to melt you into the ground like quicksand.
Annoyingly, he could tell.
"I know what you're thinking right now." His tone is much more gentle now. "It's unfair that this is your only chance to release what you need to let go of. The only other feasible chance the last year and a half has been the idea of death. But this gives you another chance. To do so, in a contained environment, where you will not be judged or ignored. You can do that here."
"Where even is 'here?" You mumble.
"Somewhere in a far better state than the world we are used to. The specifics are rather complicated, but know it is all real. And I emphasise, will not cause harm to you. As long as you stay out of the woods, where there are things that will try to hurt you."
"Demogorgons?"
"....If that's how you wish to refer to them. Yes. And know that since I am, as you know, familiar with them, here, only I can withstand them. So if you were to encounter one, chances are, you wouldn’t survive."
"You still are a sociopathic maniac ,and I still hope to one day see you on fire."
"But?"
"There's no 'but'." You push away your tea, and walk up the stairs. He follows.
"Maybe I am those things, maybe I'm lesser, maybe I'm worse. But I will have you know, here, I am purely human. with many abilities, but in my prominent physicality, I am as simple as you."
You don’t answer, slamming the door to your room behind you, locking it. You slump onto the bed, heart heavy with the reality you currently face. How is it that things are constantly on a downhill track?
And then the door unlocks.
Of fucking course.
Henry stands in the doorway, then enters. He takes in the space, surveying the various items. "I made sure this room would specifically suit your needs and likes. A home away from home. Did I do okay?"
You didn’t answer, but you didn’t have to.
"I did. I can read you well enough. I will say, you are tricky in ways. Not like anyone else I've met. You're less.... simple. But that's beside the point. I want you to know you have all forms of your favoured entertainment, cosmetics, food, and clothing here. Though I will say, the clothing was slightly altered. Somewhat more vintage. A personal preference of mine. But nothing too severe. You deserve comfort outside of my own wishes. For once."
That made your temper flare. Comfort? Provided by him? He, who is responsible for so much of the reason why you lack so much comfort in the first place. A hypocrite.
"You don’t have to answer. I won't force you to, when you're distressed. I have my ways of getting the answers anyway, as I assume you know of. For now, I shall leave you be. Rest. You need it. Otherwise, what's mine is yours. The house is yours to roam, as long as none of my personal belongings are meddled with."
He paused in the doorway, then turned back to you.
"And Y/n? If you need anything, have any questions, or need any adjustments, I will be in the library of the house. I'm here for the rest of today. I will alert you if I have to leave at any stage. Get some sleep."
He offers a small smile, and watches you for a minute; with something in his gaze you can't pin. He then turns and closes the door, footsteps retreating down the hall.
You're left with a silence that could pierce the very atoms that build the space. You're far too exhausted to devise an escape plan, or accept defeat. Sleep takes you under before you can even try.
-----
When you wake, the sky is a deep blue, littered with stars. The clock on your bedside reads 10:05 PM.
You sit up, feeling far too well rested. It's almost uncomfortable to think of. You haven’t rested this well for far too long. Yet, the rumination wastes no time kicking in.
Vecna has kidnapped you.
Here, he has placed you in an inescapable realm that feigns both normality, and magic. But it is far too polished to be correct.
He knows you know some of his intentions, but will never tell you the truth of it.
He says you are here to recover, but won’t tell you his exact reason why, aside from empathising with you.
Your family and friends likely do not know you're here. They probably don’t even know where you went missing. They’re probably too busy. They won’t be able to save you like this.
Did Henry do anything to you while you slept?
You rise from the bed, and make your way into the attached bathroom. You check over yourself for a good 10 minutes, trying to point out any hidden indication he did something to change you. The lack of result unerves you more.
Tears sting your eyes as you go back to sit on the bed, arms around yourself like shields. You are trapped. Yet again, in some various form, trapped from a life that could so easily be simple. Your mind swirls and dizzies you, too many thoughts fighting each other. He said that here you would have a break from it all. Yet the only break you have at this moment is the break of your mind, bit by bit crumbling under the fact that this time, you truly can not fix it.
You don’t hear the door open some minutes later, or notice Henry's ice blue eyes on you until he steps forward into the space.
"Get the fuck out, you snake."
He doesn’t gratify your words with a response, instead pulling out the desk chair, and sitting it in front of your bed, leaning forward to look at you closer.
"What's the matter?"
"Let me fucking leave. Now."
"You already know that isn’t an option."
The refusal tears at you. Your nails find your arms, digging into the skin that is all too familiar with self-inclicted incisions.
Henry notices. "Don’t do that to yourself. I understand it feels like the only method of relief, but you know it's always shortlived."
"Get out of my head."
"I'm not in your head. I'm just not an idiot."
It made your eyes roll internally to know that much was truth.
He continued; "Now, i'll give you as much time as you need. But I need you to talk to me. Tell me what you feel. What I can do to help."
"Right now, I really wish you had killed me than taken me here. Would have been much better." You express bitterly through the tears.
"I hear that. And I see that you think death would be the more merciful option. But I see the fire in you as well. You don’t want death. You want the pain to leave. Which, again-"
"Is why I'm here, I get it! But me being stuck here is making it worse! I want out! I want all of this to end! I want you dead, I want El safe, I want Max to wake up, I want Hawkins to be safe, I just don’t want to live like this!!"
For a short moment, Henry was silent. And when he at last spoke, his words were not what you expected to hear.
"I know the exact feeling. When I was in the lab, everything was like a liminal space of no return. No joy. No light. No reprieve. Just sterilisation, control, and no way out. I can’t tell you how often I had wished one of the punishments I endured would just fully take me out. But to Papa- To Dr Brenner- A worse fate lied in continuation. Waiting to be let out of mortality."
The words stumped you. You had heard from El how awful the lab could be. It offered no calm to anyone there. But to hear Henry- Vecna himself- say so, twisted the knot that sat stubborn in your heart that refused to see any of his current humanity as fact.
"And I know that's how you feel now." He continued "I apologise for it. It's not at all what I want you to feel. But if you can take one thing away from my story, it's that in some way, escape is possible. Something better waits on the other side of the pain. You just need to withstand long enough to find it. To keep living. For yourself."
The words were a balm, and sedative, all at once. It exhausted you to think that you had to wait it out. But odds be damned, you were being offered a chance to use Vecna as an inspirational figure. It set your teeth on edge.
“How can I live for myself when it feels like the collapse of the world will be my fault if I don’t do one thing right?”
“Collapse isn’t your responsibility. Rebuilding after collapse is. And the world isn’t even new to collapse, and vice versa. That’s why I do what I plan to do. It’s rebuilding. And I do it for myself, I live for myself, because someone has to be the one to do it. And that, of all things, motivates me to live. It may be an egotistical thing, but imagine the pride you feel for continuing, when so many other people roll over.”
“It’s not people’s fault for killing themself.”
“I’m not talking about suicide. I’m talking about the people who let things fester. Those who don’t even bother with a way through. Even when they know there’s many ways. Do you not wish to feel proud of yourself for not being one of them?”
“I can be proud of myself while still empathising with them.”
“That you can. But don’t be afraid to be selfish of it’ll keep you alive. You can balance caring for others while balancing your own needs, as long as your needs are actually met. You have to be the first decision maker in that. People and tools may help you. But ultimately, you save yourself.”
That should not have been what gave you the sliver of hope to continue living. But one thing you should have come to realise much earlier was that Henry Creel was not a man of predictability.
You wiped the tears from your face.
“Even though I’m in an unknown location that’s stuck in the past and I have no clue what my fate will be anymore, and you were responsible for the deaths of many people from an indirect standpoint.” You deadpan, and you catch a genuine grin flick on his face for a moment.
“Yes. You may as well make the most of unpredictable situations. Especially the ones you don’t know the direction of. Life is all about the experiences. You have the choice to get excited about that.”
He rose from the chair and placed it back at the desk. "I'll leave you with that for now. But know that self harm will heal over, and anything aside from yourself will kill you in this house. I made sure to implement those factors into place. But feel free to do anything else. Cry. Eat. Sleep more, though I'll have you know, you slept for 13 hours. Most of the day, into the night. But there's the television in the living room, books in here ad the library, crafts in the study, and much more. Settle in. And for the love of all that is good in the world, don’t use the fact you can’t kill yourself here to try and see what would happen if you attempted. And don’t try anything with the antidepressants. Before you ask, yes, you still need to take them, do not whine."
Against your better judgment, you bit your lip to hold back a grin at the last few requests, the absurdity of it. Henry notices, and something in his still calculating gaze seems to loosen up. A speckle of something human.
"Good. I'll be back in the study until midnight. Do try to sleep again at some point. Your mind needs it if you wish to recuperate. Shout if you need me."
He steps out, and closes the door.
Your stomach drops a small bit when you realise that you, if you really had to, would take him up on that.
You swear to god, if you end up warming up to Vecna because of your desperate fight between attachment and isolation, you will off yourself.
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guys how crazy it is that we know about shifting. our community is like what 2 million people max and it's 0,025% of all people. that's literally INSANE hello?? shifting was meant to find you.
Before I went to sleep last night I read a post about how counting numbers as a method is probably the easiest thing to get into the void/ your dr because right when you lose track of what number your on and you’re aware you’re getting confused THATS the best moment to shift. You’re right on that edge of being awake but already on the verge of falling asleep and your brain isn’t resisting.
I tried this last night and tell me why I had the most vivid lucid dream and I think for a moment I actually shifted because everything was literally in HD and I could control what I was doing. But I was wayyyy too tired last night to actually follow through with the shift so I just went to sleep.
Pls try it because it’s the most low effort but high reward method you could do (in my humble opinion)
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˚⋆𐙚｡⋆ michael with his extra smart girlfriend who even in the most romantic of moments, always has a fact to tell him
˚⋆𐙚｡⋆ on a long awaited date at neverland ranch, both michael and you are on a date, lying on your backs, watching the stars that appear to be more visible than ever.
“did you know that technically every time you look at a star, you’re time travelling?”
michael gives you a side glance, “you’re making that up”
“i’m not! it takes years for the light to finally reach us, so realistically that star could have died by now”
“this might be worse than the time you said bananas are a berry”
“well that’s true as well”
˚⋆𐙚｡⋆ when michael was sat in the kitchen one morning, his glasses perched on the tip of his nose whilst his hand wrapped around a warm mug of coffee, casually reading over a file for some show he was supposed to appear at. until he hears hurried footsteps along the hallway and down the stairs.
“oh my gosh, you will never guess what i just learnt!”
“what, baby?”, his hand abandoning the mug and instead tucking under his chin in amusement.
“did you know that we are technically made up of star dust?”
“huh?”
“basically, the iron in our blood can only really be formed from stars and when stars explode, their elements scatter across space and then eventually form living things, like me and you!”
“really?… where did you learn that?”
“oh, just in a random book i think i took from my grandpa like seven years ago”
“right okay.”
˚⋆𐙚｡⋆ the little patch of grass was completely surrounded by trees, creating a privacy screen for michael and his cute girlfriend on their picnic date.
“did you know ants can carry like twenty times their body weight?”
your eyes were glued to the small ant that climbed onto the checkered blanket and walked across the small fold in the corner.
“why do you just have this information ready to go?”
you shrugged, completely fixated on the small creature before it disappeared under the blanket.
“awh, i miss him already”
˚⋆𐙚｡⋆ michael notices when your suspiciously quiet one day, your usual facts not flying out of your mouth everytime you notice something slightly interesting.
“what’s the matter?”
“what, nothing”, your arms folded over your chest as a small pout formed over your lips.
he turned his attention back towards the television, a documentary about nature playing on the screen.
“where’s your facts? usually you would be unstoppable”
“well i thought you got annoyed at them so i’m trying to be cool”
“sweet girl, please give me a fact, i need to grow the small knowledge plant in my head”
you turned your head, a smile growing on your face.
“okay, well… did you know that when you’re listening to music, if you listen to a certain rhythm for long enough then your heartbeat syncs up with it”
“that might be my favourite fact you’ve ever told me”
“well obviously, you are a musician”
˚⋆𐙚｡⋆ on the night before christmas, you both wore matching striped pj sets, fairy lights scattered across the living room and a small tree in the corner of the room.
you walked into the room before being stopped in the doorway by michael’s chest meeting your nose.
“oh!”
“look up, honey”
his fingers held a small piece of mistletoe, lightly shaking it, making the bell attached sound a quiet jingle.
“you know what that means”
you giggled before standing on your tiptoes coming to michael’s height.
as your faces neared, your lips less then a centimeter apart, you suddenly whispered.
“did you know that mistletoe is actually a parasite and-”
“babe as much as i love your facts, please just kiss me”
your lips met, an intimate moment as the candles flickered around you, the movie on the tv playing as a background noise.
you broke apart before continuing,
“-it actually attaches itself to trees and steals its water and nutrients, so it’s kind of ironic that we are kissing under it”
michael smiled at you, looking at his adorably smart girlfriend, and although your facts did appear at some absolutely absurd times, he would not trade it for anything in the world, because that’s what made you, you.
