what ever happened to baby jane?

... and then that would be forgotten too. GOODBYE JANESSA IVES, WE HARDLY KNEW YOU.

[shadowedvales]

* YOU HAVE A WOUND, ELEVEN. A TERRIBLE WOUND. AND IT'S FESTERING ... a very selective, independent, and mutuals only writing blog for janessa alexandra ives of netflix's stranger things, drastically moulded into an original character. i am extremely critical of the source material, and take canon inspiration primarily from the first two seasons, fully diverging from three onwards. reading my carrd is vital to interact! jane can be adapted into most fandoms, as crossover threads are almost always preferred. please be eighteen plus to interact. * UNLIKELY TO FOLLOW ANYONE IN THE STRPC FIRST.

Visit Original Link

NAVIGATION. ♱ updated guidelines. carrd. inbox. pinterest. sideblog. upside down rewrite. metas not on carrd.

this blog is heavily affiliated with: acceptedrisk, hollowvictory, f1sts, fromband, freakarus, rivhers, rapookiesmonsters & 4stromech.

pls be advised that i’m currently doing a huge haul to move everything from my carrd (and we all know it’s a lot!) to a side blog for easier access because yes i’m lazy and never update or edit my carrd because i can’t be assed logging in. if ur a new follower and you wanna know crossover verses info or have questions for things that might be unclear / unfinished on my carrd, just ask! it will all be on the side blog in due time!

where else is frankie!!! httyd multi muse. sideblog multi muse.

[clehric]

ENOUGH! word pushed through exhaustion to clamour from her throat as her own hands push through the gathering. understanding grapples with ire, holly's years of unknowing clashing with their years of remembering- all their WHAT IF's come to fruition when she walked hand in hand back into the world from a version of it, flipped. they all talk at once and the adrenaline that courses through her veins starts to wane when holly, fed up with the chaos, yells. "hey! shut up!" the room falls silent and she meets her mother's eyes ( she always knows what her kid's need without having to ask ) before she turns to a once believed dead girl and she ushers her up the stairs. "i'll be up soon," she assures, insists, nodding along as karen slips passed holly with a caress of her hand to the back of her shoulder and keeps jane STEADY as they climb out of the basement. holly exhaled. she's so tired.

it takes far longer than she's happy with for the crowd to disperse. some agree to come back tomorrow, reluctance in their voice but UNWILLING to argue with a girl that just crossed dimensions- a wheeler, at that. others won't stray further than the threshold of the front door, taken to sit comfortably in the living room with untouched refreshments her mother laid out before ... her brother sits on the stairs leading up to the bedrooms- but that doesn't IRK holly. she lets him be, because now that she remembers, she understands.

her bones are weary, her muscles ache- the last time she felt this tired was in '87 ... not again, since. her mother's descending and they cross paths on the stairs. holly walks into karen's open arms and wraps her own around her waist. her eyes close as she tucks her head in to slender ( SCARRED ) neck and she exhales slowly, releasing a breath she didn't realise she'd been holding. "is she okay?" she mumbles quietly, even though she knows there's no real answer. karen tries anyway. "she will be." it's enough for holly to nod again, extracting from her mother's comforting embrace to trot the rest of the way upstairs- she feels a number of eyes on her back until she disappears from view ... they can wait.

the shower drips as she passes the bathroom, steam still wafting in from under the door- holly doesn't hesitate ( she does knock, but she doesn't wait ) before she's retreating to her bedroom. jane sits on her bed, hair still dripping but dried at the ends, and holly lets out a huffed breath of relief. fending off THE MASSES had taken a while and the almost eighteen year old had had enough. had they always been like that? is that what jane was used to, before? had anyone just let her breathe? when her eyes meet jane's, holly smiles. a proper, true smile because ... holy crap, she's here. she's REAL and she's HERE and holly let herself sink back against the door for a second before she's crossing the room. she sits on the edge of her bed, one leg curled up underneath her. and when she tells jane there's no obligation on her to speak, holly just gets her arms up in time to catch the formerly years older girl. it's almost a mirror image to holly and karen on the stairs- so she tries to offer the same kind've comfort, but she's not sure if she succeeds as well as her mom.

holly shifted to sit cross-legged on the bed as jane gathers herself, watching quietly but NOT expectantly, waiting for her. "i suppose i wouldn't either," she says with a small shrug- because it's true. she's almost taken aback by the sudden touch, not by the concern, and holly just shakes her head. "i'm okay- tired, a little sore, maybe a headache ... but i'm okay. no biggie." she doesn't pay attention to the smallest trickle of blood just visible from her nose. she wipes it away with the back of her hand. "feel any better?" now that jane's showered, and had more than a minute to herself in a world unravaged. "you can stay here, if you like- we can share, or i can go sleep with mom tonight. i don't mind either way."

[shadowedvales]

she knows her friends wait downstairs, eager and hopeful, and some part of her itches to see them. ( dustin cried when the door to another world opened and janessa ives was once again resurrected; will simply stared, mouth agape and gaze turning glassy; while mike looked as if the fragments of his shattered existence were finally put back together. she wants them all to hold her just as much as she can't handle the thought of it. ) she believes it's their faces, their aged, changed appearances that ultimately keeps her away - taller frames, deeper tones, new scars and exciting futures which seemed to prove she was nothing more than a ghost belonging exclusively to childhood. had she been missed every day, or only now that she's back? she, still seventeen, for the upside down preserved her like an insect trapped in amber - she was older than the boys, than max... the very thought causes her gut to twist and turn in a hundred different directions; she can't imagine what they see when they look upon her.

her hand slowly lowers, and she makes an effort to fold it neatly in her lap. "good." she replies softly, "headache should go, soon." she speaks from experience - what she'd give for the simplicity of a nose bleed and common migraine right now. "i... i think i so. shower was nice. really nice." the faintest whiff of a smile grows, though it doesn't quite reach her eyes in the way she intended. being hit with the normality of something as simple as a warm shower is oddly confrontational... how did she last nearly a whole decade down there? without the effortless things day-to-day life offered? "it is... strange. coming back." she tries to explain, uncertain if she's expressing it coherently. "like i will have to learn to be real again. alive. to know it's no trick." you did it once, when you broke out of your twelve year cage; after they burnt your cradle before you had the chance to lay in it - you can come back from this, too.

everyone looked at her with such affection, but there was an underlying spark of horror in their expressions; she saw it in the way silence fell when she re-entered their lives, because for them, she's an impossibility made real - untouched by time while it ravaged everything else. @rivhers, however, looks at her with a steadiness containing pure recognition, as though she already crossed that terrible distance long ago and no longer feared what she might find on the other side. when holly mentions sleeping with karen for the night, jane's hand flies out unceremoniously, catching her wrist in an almost vice-like grip. it's sheer, animal instinct. "no." her presence is the only one that doesn't make janessa feel like she's being ripped apart between those who remembered what she was, and what she has become.

the movement was abrupt enough that she startles slightly, and for one suspended second, just holds on as her heart batters wildly against her ribs. the idea of holly standing up, crossing the room, turning off the light, and leaving her alone inside this unbearable quiet felt more like annihilation than mere discomfort. "stay. please. i... unless you want to be with your mom." ( god, what she'd give for her own. ) "that is okay." in the vale of shadows, touch belonged to violence: claws, vines, decay, bodies dragged through ash and blood and ruin... and now she's here, clutching at holly wheeler without shame, and with an emotion perilously close to desperation. that sense of whiplash returns.

it's at this moment that jane fully understands, with a frightening kind of clarity, that during those lost years, through all the impractical distances amongst planes, through every minute holly spent reaching for her... jane had tethered herself to the other so completely that now, she can't survive another separation. she removes her hand quickly as she'd stretched out, using it instead to tuck a strand of wet hair behind her ear, trying to appear less despondent, more casual. less like a ticking time bomb of nerves and fear. "don't think i can sleep, yet. we can watch a movie?" she suggests, shrugging her shoulders lightly, suddenly feeling like that little girl in a blanket fort, hidden in a basement. she'd come so far, and is now back to where she started. "when everyone goes away... maybe something to eat, also?"

[shadowedvales]

for weeks she had wandered beneath the bruised november sky, cold needling through her thin clothes, the forest swallowing every sound except for the crackle of dead leaves under dirty shoes. hawkins became a nightmare she intended to abandon, unable to cope with the winter winds and lack of shelter offered. a town where flashing red sirens settled behind her eyes, in her head - where the demogorgon's wet howl haunted the corners of her life, so very alive and waiting. but in escaping one monster, she discovered the world itself was enormous and merciless. ( but she was free. ) it felt unreal, stitched together from fragments: gas stations glowing neon upon empty highways, distant barking dogs, telephone poles marching beside unrecognisable roads. civilisation appeared in flashes before disappearing again behind miles of skeletal woods. she kept walking anyway, distancing herself from soldiers who'd never stop searching.

i'm trying to fix your hair, so hold still. @manenuf

she's not sure what she did to deserve this place, to deserve him. the room she'd been given was small but warm, ( the first thing that was ever hers ) washed amber by a single lamp whose glow softened everything it touched. eleven sits cross-legged in the centre of her bed, wrapped in an oversized sweatshirt; dae-ho sits behind her, brush in hand, taking much needed control over something long overdue. freshly bathed, she smells faintly of soap and shampoo, though her damp curls remain a disaster: uneven, thickening at strange angles as they outgrew institutional buzz cuts; some pieces curled tightly against her neck while others puffed out rebelliously, all tangled from sleep and neglect. it failed to grow properly after years of sterile razors and clippers… even more so because she refused to care for it. "ow!" she exclaims dramatically, as the combs teeth hit a particularly defiant knot. she turns her head to grant an undeserved glare. "big ones hurt," she accuses like it's his fault.

in the lab there were only nurses with frigid palms who handled her wordlessly, clipping locks down to the scalp when they dared to spring up. maintenance belonged to somebody else, even her body never felt like her own. she bites her lip as guilt consumes - she hadn't meant to snap. "sorry. you are helping." she quickly says as her shoulders hunch and she turns back around. everyone seemed born knowing these things; she'd seen karen brush holly's hair mindlessly, seen girls at the grocery store wear braids and glossy ponytails like second nature. "can't do… anything with it." she mumbles pitifully, clearly annoyed at something she can't change, but appreciating his soft presence nevertheless. elle wasn't used to kindness that arrived without conditions; touch led to restraint, needles, examinations and fluorescent lights. tenderness from benny and mike had felt fragile, too - little sparks threatened by the storm forever gathering around her.

"it's short. ugly." she bites, voice uncertain, rough with disuse; she speaks like someone learning a language for the first time. every girl around her instinctively knew how to be one, especially dae-ho's sisters - one look at hae-jin had eleven wanting to experience girlhood more than ever. it's the sole reason she requested his help in learning to manage her hair - she just hadn't expected it to be so frustrating. "needs time to get long. i..." hesitation keeps her vulnerable, seen in the way her left hand begins tugging at the fingers on her right, careful to avoid the frostbitten scarring. "want to look pretty. like hae-jin. next time she visits, want to look good. don't know how if my hair isn't nice." she purses her lips in consideration, "maybe clips? or ribbons… can make it better?"

[zachrp]

ᝰ🚬 𝚉𝙰𝙲𝙷𝚁𝙿 .ᐟ (REQUESTED) SUPERMAN (2025) PROMPTS. CHANGE ANY PRONOUNS IF NECESSARY. SOME MATURE THEMES MAY BE PRESENT.

how's your mom?

i don't think there's anything funny about good journalism.

why does he trust everyone?

i've sacrificed my own humanity to help get rid of it.

your obsession with me is getting a little creepy.

it's not too late for either of you.

this is what you do every time you're faced with conflict.

i'm sorry, friend.

any chance they're mistaken?

i'm not gonna say that. you know i'm not gonna say that.

i'll be there as soon as i can, okay?

aw, you look like shit.

where's the button?

he's gonna regret harming me for the rest of his life.

i can handle any question that comes my way.

i will admit that, i am scared.

they sent me here to kill people.

come on. my actions? i stopped a war.

rule without mercy.

hey, handsome.

people were going to die!

what are we gonna do?

you saved us so many times. now it's our turn.

this girl is obsessed with you?

i thought i told you to keep an eye on him.

we're so different.

if you keep interviewing yourself, eventually people are gonna figure it out.

i shouldn't have brought it up.

hey, man. i'm sorry. i didn't mean to bum you out.

ethically, these interviews are hugely problematic.

we need to find him.

hey! hey, no, no. stop!

i tried to stop him.

no need to thank us, as we will not appreciate it.

guards! guards! he's doing something!

i'm just in the middle of a big news day here.

we have to try. come on.

what did you mean when you said that you knew this would never work?

it's a big story. put it above the fold.

three months ago, we had our first date.

so we're gonna lock up all meta humans now?

we'll never make it in time.

why is nobody clapping?

it's been a minute.

we feed the canine, but he is unruly.

the alien is on its way back.

can't he hold his breath for over an hour?

i can tell you don't really think so.

i probably should have told you that a long time ago.

don't worry. tall, dark, and martian isn't my type.

what are you doing here?

how dare he throw a pencil at me?

how am i being dishonest?

i'm goddamn mr. terrific.

there's other parts of you that people would find very attractive.

that's the problem. i need to heal.

i've been trying to figure out a way to get it out of here alive.

yes, but you know that's very silly.

we have what we need. return to base.

i knew this would never work.

we have no clue what his actual goal was here.

i cherish it more than anything.

oh, my god! what is that?

well, what's particularly bad for business is dying.

should we really still be standing here?

i don't need your help.

way to bring it home!

this ain't playtime! quit messin' around!

i didn't do anything.

i think it's pretty obvious the goal was kicking superman's ass.

what did you mean by that?

what did you say?

take me home.

i think i'm doing a good job.

i won't be able to sustain the impact at this speed.

without solid proof of malicious intent, it's just not worth the risk.

your pride won't be making our choices today.

it would be difficult to find him.

even if he was dead, those trackers would still be there.

i just do what i can not to be splashed.

i'm pretty sure you wouldn't like that.

that is where you've always been wrong about me.

okay, i'd like to change the subject, if i could.

man, you are so weird.

don't talk to me.

i have no clue what you're talking about.

i put your parents' message on to soothe you.

you are only 83% restored to health. you must rest.

you seem upset.

your choices, your actions: that's what makes you who you are.

they won't fool everyone forever.

there were no casualties and no significant injuries.

i can recover the rest.

can we go on now?

who raised you as a child?

we'll need more than you when we enter.

we love you more than heaven.

you came to get me.

oh, my. i do apologize, but this is a restricted area.

we've done what we need to do. wrap it up.

you know what? it doesn't matter.

you have to say “off the record” beforehand, not after.

we must get to the bunker!

i am giving you one last chance to stop!

i don't get it. what's bad about that?

buckle up, we're going live.

no, you are not going to take credit for this.

come on, bro. don't be such a wuss.

okay, well, a lot of people love 'em.

you're just trying to get information out of me.

you love breakfast.

you are not punk rock.

she has to be the biggest idiot in the world.

we'll take my ride.

i put one foot in front of the other and i try to make the best choices i can.

oh, come on, man.

okay. i'm gonna do my job.

you gotta get outta here. it's not safe.

i'm as human as anyone.

it's not healthy, is it?

i'm not even sure how i feel. honestly.

now you're being dishonest.

what the hell, dude?

i party like a rock star, choir boy.

i was gonna break up with him, actually.

i've been very honest about that. from the beginning.

oh, here. i brought you a donut.

wait. can we talk..?

i'm sorry we fought.

i hope he rots in hell.

i'm punk rock.

hopefully, there's something on here.

i'm coming in on my own accord.

there's gotta be a better way to do this.

he's been studying him for years.

you have to promise me we get to hang this weekend.

you piece of shit alien!

i can help.

i told you i wasn't good at relationships.

i have a workaround for that as well.

what do you want me to do?

look, i didn't even want to bother you,

take a hike, barbie!

please see what you can find out.

this is all on the record.

i don't know how else to find him.

he'll be dead in minutes.

i screw up all the time.

i couldn't be more proud of you.

you were out there helping them?

hey, bro, what are you doing? stop that!

isn't that one of those justice guys?

is that really how you feel?

do you want me to take it apart and put it back together?

you want me to drive?

sorry about that. i'm so sorry.

you'd be terminated already if it was up to me.

it was very funny today.

he's out there alone and he's probably scared.

we have no consciousness whatsoever.

oh, that's really good.

it's what people on the internet are saying.

hey, buddy. eyes up here.

i cleaned your boots. i'll go get 'em for you.

it's just a working name.

go for its eyes!

i can't stop it. i need your help.

i didn't imagine that would go so quickly.

how's that a mystery?

your superman has abandoned you!

you know that one specifically irritates me!

you have the footage?

would you like a coffee or tea?

i'm not who i thought i was.

can you get in?

where is my dog?

this is what we came for.

darn it, i can be such a jerk sometimes.

i will not accept that. will you?

how are we supposed to know how we feel when we read this malarkey?

enough! you're, you're gonna get all of us in trouble!

good luck with that.

you think this is going well?

the rumors are true.

i swear to god, that's not it.

my point is, i question everything and everyone.

whoa! what do we got here?

i didn't make it up.

how long have they been hooking up?

who are you working with here on earth?

as far as we can ascertain, there's none left on the planet.

parents aren't for telling their children who they're supposed to be.

are you being serious right now?

it's an awfully small distraction.

i really don't understand why you stay in that relationship.

i don't read that stuff.

i know you won't kill me.

you couldn't be more obvious.

with a healthy dose of yellow sun, we'll have him up and at 'em in no time.

kill him! he's still weak!

i don't know what a pocket universe is.

i don't know how in the hell this thing hasn't been spotted.

we can't stand here much longer.

this is your last warning.

why are you being like this?

i have no family or nothing.

[f1stsarc]

𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐎 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐄 𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓 was mentioned once, it was inevitably something that would slither cold through your brain ( again, and again, and again, and - ) because even after that sacred bond was established as a seedling in your palm &. nurtured, there was always that chance it would start to wilt. [ ... ] once it was dead, there was no dragging it back from destruction. not for you. it had been ingrained in your brain since childhood that giving people second chances was a good way to get yourself stabbed in the back.

you'd never been that gentle nor that patient for anything in your life──

in all the wrong moments, ( fig. 1, now! ) you wondered if there was a version of this life where you could learn to be. in the end, it was always better to avoid getting your hopes up [ ... ] then, jane's hand reached out and found yours through the dark. curling inside the spaces between your fingers, sweat-to-sweat. the beast of self-doubt found itself rather suddenly sated and laid down it's mighty head. your eyes flicker downward to the gesture, and back up again; renewed. you were a protector. this time around, you wouldn't fail. old dogs could learn new tricks. you'd prove that to your dying breath.

❛ ────no, it's not a bad idea. it's just... ❜ her rasping voice trails away, shoulders aching with uncertainty. something within is afraid of what they might find there .. ( but this is for jane, ) ( not for you. ) [ ... ] and vi only just promised to stay. nothing was powerful enough to sway her now. if a bunch of journals grew fists, she'd be ready.

❛ th'more we know about all this shit, the easier it'll be to put all the pieces together. ... right? ❜ is half uttered to the group of men trailing behind, and half to her charge. when ives squeezes her hand, she squeezes back instinctively. ❛ try not to let it get to you. this place, it's just .. kinda like an old house, y'know? ❜ it was more than that, but she was trying and trying to think of what she'd say to powder when she was scared. her sister's face had begun to blur into memory. ❛ i'm right here and for what it's worth, so are the bozos back there. you're not on your own. ❜

[shadowedvales]

"yes. eh-easier. hopefully will help get powers back." for what is your worth without them? this place doesn't feel abandoned; abandonment implies absence - empty chambers, silence, the simple decay of years passed. but hawkins laboratory is inhabited, not by people per se, but by memory. "old house," she repeats. your very first home. wind moans through broken ventilation shafts high above, producing stretched, mournful sounds which at times seem almost human; the kind of noise that forces all instincts to whisper run before the mind understands why. not only is it an ancient dwelling, but a haunted one. the traces of interrupted lives remain stuck between the fraction of a second, between then and now: coffee cups fossilised by dust; patient files swollen from water damage; a wheelchair overturned as though whoever fled did so in a sudden panic. terror is preserved - it's actually rather fitting.

she mourns like a cold-blooded murder has occurred, where crows pick carrion and leave morsel and moral to rot. ( here lies janessa ives. here lies jane hopper. here lies eleven... ) each death is a lesson, a sermon of suffering - what fuels her determination to dig up the graves she laid flowers on long ago? "not alone," she whispers to herself, but the smile gracing her face, touching her eyes is for violet. "thanks." a breath is drawn for good measure, "come on." she doesn't dare release vi's hand, but walks with a little more spring in her step, fear no longer completely paralysing, chin held higher. as they continue, she knows the building remembers her - she feels it. every corridor holds her outline against sterile tile; walls litter with her screams forever ignored. perhaps the true reason she returned was because eleven still wanders about, barefoot and frightened, searching desperately for an escape, and janessa - older now, scarred but alive - finally plucked up the courage to rescue her.

their journey at last meets its end, signalled by the echo of children's laughter becoming more tangible. it pounds inside her ears, mirrors the thrum in her chest. she breaks their comfortable connection to push open the large, heavy doors of the rainbow room; it groans upon contact, happily inviting the familiarity of something with a pulse inside. she enters without waiting, no barked orders nor puppeteers guiding now severed strings. it's by far the worst room yet; a nursery deserted after a deathly plague. bright wallpaper has faded into sickly pastel shades beneath layers of mildew. tiny chairs are still gathered around the tables, like the kids might return any minute and resume lessons. upon further investigation, shaky steps take her to the frozen chess set, ready and waiting for another challenge; it seemed so important back then, when tests disguised themselves as games.

how obscene it was to decorate a concealed cage, to paint fantasy over institutional horror. "did you..." she begins, hesitant. an effort is made to clear her throat, as she turns to focus on her friend, ignoring the ghosts eternally settled in this prison. ( for the first time in her life, she wonders where papa killed them. right where she stands? in their cells? were they lined up in a row, or did he wait for bedtime and command the order one at a time? she doubts he pulled the trigger. ) "did you know... the others? our siblings. i did not meet them." she's stalling, and is fully aware of it. she's so close to that secret door, barely ten feet away - it's suddenly much too near for her liking. "just kali and that wasn't many times. never saw you."

[shadowedvales-bye]

i’m always, always emotional thinking about jane not only having a birth certificate, but a death certificate, too. the very first time she holds her birth certificate is an incredible experience. it’s proof of janessa alexandra ives, proof she was born to a loving mother and father, was destined to live an actual life. it’s a physical, real documentation of the day she was brought into the world, and she adores the single, seemingly unimportant sheet of paper. anything that makes her real, and this is extraordinary evidence of just that. then she holds her death certificate. it’s ugly, it’s fake, it’s untrue. it’s dated the same as her birthday -- the very first lie of her life that would shape her existence for twelve years. in march 1985, jane visits her aunt for the first time since november, and asks to see the paperwork again, ( having looked through it all briefly when she and becky were searching for kali ).

she decides very quickly she wants the death certificate gone. more specifically, she wants to burn it. it shouldn’t exist. it’s a tangible reminder of the things she’s been through; that some power hungry people decided she wasn’t worth living as jane ives. of course, becky lets her do it, ( she, too, wants it destroyed. it serves as nothing more than a reminder of her own failures as a sister, an aunt ). they burn it together in the backyard. it’s a cathartic moment -- it’s also the moment becky asks jane’s forgiveness, and if she’ll let her, she’ll spend the rest of her life making it up to her, and terry. in response, jane holds her hand, smiles, nods -- she’d like nothing more than that. she wants them to be a family. burning the paperwork is the beginning of piecing the broken ives family back together, erasing lies and starting fresh.

[f1stsarc]

* janessa ives wants to share a cigarette, @shadowedvales

[ ... ] ❛ ────not a chance, shrimp. ❜

[shadowedvales]

"shrimp?" jane's brows furrow tightly as her top lip curls upwards in a silent display of confusion; all in all she looks rather misplaced. "not a shrimp." she says dramatically, with a full chest and squared shoulders - it's apparently necessary that violet understands she is a girl, not a creature from the sea. an expectant hand is suddenly held out, not taking no for an answer. "want to try one." she demands, wiggling her fingers (an attempt to entice a cigarette be placed in her open palm). "you do it… why not me? only want to try."

[marypickfords]

Opera (Dario Argento, 1987)

[f1stsarc]

( # ꓦ𐌆 ) from the fortiche antimated league of legends series : arcane, by heretic . est 2021, recreated 2025 .

[dontretreat-m-deactivated202605]

‎ "I CANNOT SHOW ANY WEAKNESS" : PROMPTS

Rays of warm sunshine caught between thin tree branches, casting  a  flickering  spotlight  over  the  open  clearing  where  the  woods  were  still,  nature’s  breath  held  in  anticipation  as  the  last  shot  rang  out.  Birds  had  long  since  scattered,  leaving  a  familiar,  strangely  comforting  solitude.  “Good,”  Nancy  complimented,  twigs  cracking  beneath  her  feet  as  she  stepped  across  the  open  space  to  retrieve  the  downed  cans,  one  by  one,  inspecting  each  bullet  entry  placement  with  a  growing  sense  of  accomplishment. “That  was  better,  your  aim  is  definitely  improving.”  She  got  to  work  rummaging  in  their  supply  bag  for  replacement  targets,  cans  with  less  bullet  holes  torn  through  the  cheap  tin,  casting  a  glance  over  her  shoulder  where  @shadowedvales was  waiting.  Once  she’d  finished  the  reset,  Nancy  returned  to  her  side,  internally  debating  for  a  moment  before  making  her  decision.  Jane was ready. 

“I  think  we  can  try  something  a  little  harder  next  time,  maybe  even  a  moving  target.  What  do  you  think?” The  offer  wasn’t  made  lightly.  Nancy  made  sure  to  progress  their  training  slowly,  especially  since  it  took  some  convincing  for  Jane  to  warm  up  to  the  idea.  Repetition  was  the  key,  even  if  it  could  get  a  little  boring.  “There’s  a  few  more  things  I  can  teach  you.” 

" you taught me to be strong. "

A  smile  graced  Nancy’s  features,  concentration  and  focus  replaced  with  something  softer -  lingering  pride. “You  were  already  strong,  Jane,”  an  encouraging  palm  came  to  rest  upon  the  younger  girl’s  shoulder, “you  just  needed  someone  to  show  you.”  Fingers  lightly  squeezed  before  dropping  away,  head  nodding  toward  the  targets. “Come  on,  go  again,  I  marked  these  ones  and  I  wanna  see  bullet  holes  right  through  the  Xs.”

[shadowedvales]

𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚆𝙾𝙾𝙳𝚂 𝚂𝚄𝚁𝚁𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙷𝙾𝙿𝙿𝙴𝚁'𝚂 𝙾𝙻𝙳 𝙲𝙰𝙱𝙸𝙽 𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙼𝙼𝙴𝚁𝚂 𝙱𝙴𝙽𝙴𝙰𝚃𝙷 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙻𝙰𝚉𝚈 𝙶𝙾𝙻𝙳 𝙾𝙵 𝙰𝙵𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙽𝙾𝙾𝙽 𝚂𝚄𝙽𝙻𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃⸻ heat drapes across the clearing in waves, turning the air thick with pine resin as bark bakes beneath the sun. the old dwelling sits crooked and weatherworn amongst it all, half-swallowed by wilderness, faded boards glowing amber in the light. the atmosphere is earthy and clean and strangely comforting; unlike the weapon locked in her palm. the gun had unsettled her at first touch. it looked too simple to hold such consequence; she remembers the sounds they made in the lab, in corridors, in nightmares. men with unseeing eyes carrying death casually at their hips. she is broken away from grave recollections as a firm hand rests upon her shoulder; what a feeling it still is, to be loved so fiercely. but her admiration for the girl more akin to a sister than friend fades rather fast as the mention of a moving target comes into play.

❛ moh - moving? ❜ she asks, voice shattering with nerves, croaking out in a stuttered mess. IT'S STILL TOO NEW, TOO DIFFICULT. there's no invisible force roaring from her pulse to save everyone at the last second, no certainty of her purpose, only flesh and fear. only being a girl in a dangerous world. perhaps nancy understood that better than anyone. (and if nancy believed in her, then surely she was capable...) ❛ okay. i will try. next. maybe not today? ❜ jane spent so much of her life being studied, controlled— very few simply saw her. mike tried, as did hopper. joyce loved her enough to crack herself open for it. but nancy fully realised jane's deepest terrors without making them smaller, and that mattered most... more than she knew how to express. she just wants to make her proud. ❛ bullets in x. ❜ she confirms her intended act in a whisper, letting it transfer from her head, and form into a physical manifestation.

she inhales slowly, arms already tense and remarkably heavy. the target looks quite small now. what if she could never do this properly? what if, absent of her abilities, she was nothing? the thought twists inside her, haunting each waking moment, and the unconscious ones, too. was she doomed to be forever weak? useless if not sacrificing every inch of herself until she was more machine than girl? she aims, pulls, and stumbles back instantly, heart crashing erratically against her ribs. the shot missed by several feet, and she stares at it in dismay, the recoil jolting painfully through her wrists. ❛ missed. ❜ nothing else needs to be said. with that in mind, she tries again. the following shot cracks through the endless expanse of sky and land. ANOTHER FAIL. the can wobbles violently but remains upright, so she lowers the gun, frustrated, far too hard on herself. ❛ shit! ❜ she's getting impatient, now. (don't let it get to you. try again.)

three minutes pass in weighted silence while she collects her shattered confidence, calms her fidgety fingers and shaky feet. she breathes in, and cold enters her lungs sharp as ice. she adjusts her stance in the fashion nancy taught: grip loose, legs apart, a straight, steady spine. the forest falls silent around them— whispering trees, drifting leaves, and only her heartbeat is heard. jane squeezes the trigger, squinting carefully. the gun roars, and the can launches up and away, spinning wildly off the log before vanishing. shock rushes through janessa so quickly it feels electric. ❛ i hit it, ❜ she mumbles, staring at the empty space where it taunted her mere seconds prior. something warm unfurls inside her; not pride exactly, but relief, a hint of possibility. a gleeful gaze veers to nancy, patient, encouraging, impossibly kind... gratitude hits her so hard it stings.

she stayed after the countless misses, every time giving up seemed like the easiest option, every complaint. NOBODY IN THE LAB TAUGHT HER THAT WAY; NOBODY THERE ALLOWED MISTAKES TO BE MISTAKES. ❛ see that?! i hit it! it's down. ❜ she practically squeals, grin stolen from starlight itself. ❛ i... i think i hit your x! ❜

[shadowedvales]

𖥻 │▌⠀ do you remember me? (( * from hiccup haddock. ))

‎𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝚅𝙾𝙸𝙲𝙴 𝙸𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝙰𝙼𝙴 𝚈𝙴𝚃 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙶𝙴𝙳 𝙰𝙻𝙻 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝙰𝙼𝙴⸻ not in sound (she recalls the cadence, how he cautiously placed words like stepping stones) but weight. it's grown firm; patience clinging to the timbre, replacing the erratic uncertainty he once possessed. there's a newfound calm to be noted: fear is not absent but he's learnt to master it, like he's walked through fire and decided it would not define him. ❛ you changed. ❜ she replies, barely louder than a breath as she observes his hut on dragons edge, considering her next course of action, still marvelled at her findings. the ceiling beams arch low, hung with things that don't belong together: coils of rope, metal hooks, bits of carved wood, mechanisms she can't name. some gleam in the light, polished by careful hands; others bare soot and scratches, a residue of trial and error. it's less of a room and more like the inside of an innovative mind; restless, searching, alive. she remembers that about him...

one corner of his mouth lifts, a crooked motion bridging between then and now: 'yeah, i get that a lot...' the boy she knew always seemed misplaced in his own skin, all lanky limbs and sheer doubt. this figure is something else entirely: his silhouette has lengthened itself into confidence; gone was the almost apologetic way he held himself. he's steady now, balanced like the archipelago trusted him not to falter. his hair grew wilder, shaping him like a banner of independence, sun-streaked and untamed, echoing the sky-rider he became. she likes the little braids. ❛ you are different. taller. but... i would know you. ❜ the soft youth of his face sharpened into angles of resolve, though not lacking kindness. his eyes are the same startling green, forever fixed on distant horizons, perpetually in conversation with possibilities unseen. a brief glance casts her gaze downward; ever the honest thing, she notes aloud without a hint of humour: ❛ you had two feet, then. ❜

the hooligan tribe's lone heir sits beside her, wrapped in the quiet authority of someone who learned to survive being underestimated, and is now passing down his wisdom. she studies him, but before he can reply, crosses their distance in a sudden, unthinking rush, stripped of invisible rules most were taught during childhood. itching fingers break personal boundaries as she reaches forth, touching the prominent mark beneath his lower lip. thumb finds flesh abruptly, pressing against the pale crescent of scar tissue as if confirming he's real, like he might vanish if she doesn't anchor him. @dragnese startles, breath catching, whole body stilling in surprise. ❛ i remember this. ❜

not tentative or polite, she traces it with blunt familiarity, memories oozing like the cut on her leg from long ago. (orange splits the horizon. smoke clawing at her lungs. meaty fists dragging her while she fought like a feral and cornered beast. amongst the commotion: a child running toward her, not away. shouting, stumbling, refusing to let anything root him to the ground. his fathers voice, her chief, booming and loud and promising aid.) ❛ you… tried to help. when they took me. we were friends? your dad tried, also. ❜ she fails to notice that she should have stepped back by now, provided space and softened the intensity of the moment into something more acceptable. she had forgotten how to do that. or perhaps she never learned.

❛ you were small. like me. but still tried to save me. ❜ berk lived within her like a wound that hadn't closed properly, and only now does she remember why. what a place that had been, a home belonging to another girl in another time. a home with a mother she's beginning to recall. ❛ ...they hurt you? alvin? i saw you fall. ❜

[acceptedrisk]

jane kisses her on the cheek. <3

a small step forward & the full scope of her outfit is revealed ! it's nothing too intricate , just a button down white shirt & a black vest . ' ta da .... i hope it's good . i had a plastic blaster , too , but mike took it away yesterday when i kept shooting him with it . does it fit your vision , princess leia ? ' max grins .

the brush of soft lips against her freckled cheek stops max short , words trailing off into a nearly unintelligible stammer . get it together , mayfield . she quietly sucks in a breath & tries to ignore the flush she feels creeping down the back of her neck . ' oh . what was that for ? ' there's not even a hint of complaint , in fact she sounds rather pleased about the whole thing .

[shadowedvales]

awareness crashes in like a door flung open in a storm. jane barely realised the intimacy of her choices until she was already pulling back, slightly jilted, suddenly self-conscious of everything going on around her. a fresh red crosses stark pale features; she can feel the warmth slowly but surely creeping up - what was she thinking? - so she ducks her head in a rather useless attempt to hide the blossoming colour. she shrugs while taking three very intentional steps back, only now understanding the enormity of what she'd done. after thoughtful consideration, ( and choosing to ignore the fact that she merely stood there, silent, for two whole minutes after the question was asked ) she finally releases an earnest reply: ❛‎ for being you.‎ ‎ ❜ her decision hadn't arrived with any means of logic; it bypassed those structures entirely, emerging as a convergence of feeling - gratitude and softness, followed by something more dangerous that she hasn't yet learned to categorise.

her thoughts fracture into overlapping currents, each one demanding grave attention: the memory of the sensation itself, the recognition of its significance, the uncertainty of its meaning - not just to max, but to herself. ❛‎ ‎ and... for doing this. for me. ‎ ❜ a gesture indicating her attire unfolds by a wave of the hand, a sign that confidence is gradually returning. don't dwell or overthink! return to the topic... ❛‎ yes. fits the vision. you are the prettiest han solo i ever saw! your princess thanks you. ‎ ‎❜ she giggles, ease cementing ( though she keeps replaying that action in the back of her mind... she might even like to try again ) as she playfully curtsies, doing her best to mimick some form of elegance, the most she can muster. the heat in her cheeks lingers, but it no longer burns with startling intensity; it settles alongside the gentleness, a familiarity she has come to depend on.

her gaze drifts back over the costume - not with the same immediate admiration as before, but with a purposeful concentration. she looks at the details, but avoids what has been created, instead focusing on why it was created. she moves close again, for closeness has begun to resemble a place where connection is easier to reach. eyes lift to her companions face, seeking truth - or perhaps the unspoken, blurred lines between them. she observes the outfit in its full glory and truly comprehends the effort max has gone to make this special, to do what she wants. ❛‎ ‎ ‎you are... happy? to be him at halloween? don't want to force you. ‎ ❜

[shadowedvales]

if anyone sees me writing with myself then pretend u don’t…. 🖤

[buffysource]

Buffy, if the master rises…

BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER

1.12 | "Prophecy Girl"

[shadowedvales]

at first, the gymnasium felt like a dream jane entered too early, before her body remembered how to belong again. it's overwhelming, as the atmosphere presses against her from every direction. not painful per se, but heavy in a way that makes her acutely aware of how long she existed alone, in the narrow, fever-dimmed corridor of her own personal hell. for weeks, her life was reduced to fragments: a ceiling which swayed when she tried to focus; the taste of everything dark and wrong rising in her throat, again and again, until the very act of breathing became negotiable. not to mention the heat nesting in her bones, trapping her inside herself. but beyond it, always just out of reach, something steady waited. someone steady. but she doesn't have to fantasise about better days any longer, for max is here. the mage lets the moment freeze as she looks at her— really looks, trying to reconcile memory with actuality. she's prettier than she remembers. "i made it." she mimics, a shy smile gracing softening features. "i am glad i am here, also. missed you a lot."

the zoomer lives up to her self proclaimed title, and moves fast, closing their distance with an urgency that grips janessa's chest with something edging close to relief. opposing palms seek her shoulders, and she is pulled forward, into immediate and undeniable affection. the embrace is not tentative, nor is it careful; it's tight, arms applying the kind of pressure that follows quiet desperation, like max is making up for every time she couldn't be close, every day absent from her company. jane notes how warm she suddenly feels... and not in the oppressive fire that made her skin feel unbearable, kind of way. this is concrete; it wraps around her without wanting anything in return, without demanding as the world so often did. ( @songtaken doesn't treat her like she'll break. ) jane closes her eyes and lets herself live in the firm, blissful knowledge of her newfound reality, even if it's only temporary. this girl seeps into jane in a way nothing else has, filling the hollowed-out spaces left behind by sickness and absence. her own hands lift, hesitant, questioning the truth of her situation— then they rapidly clutch the fabric at max's back, fingers tightening to anchor herself there.

she isn't sure how long they stay interlocked, but jane reluctantly retreats first. ( though hands remain joined. ) she lets her gaze drift, taking in the room once more— not as a paralyzing blur, but in pieces she can manage. the lights; the movement; bodies swaying in nervous but content synchrony as music turns romantic. she pulls in a shaky breath, contemplative, and looks back, "everybody is dancing," she says thoughtfully, tone shaped carefully around observation, though uncertainty lingers quietly beneath. "they are... close." she bites her lip and shrugs gently, like if her wishes are denied, it's not a concern. "we can…" she begins, then pauses, and repeats the cycle three or four times, words stretching as she gathers the fragile threads of her confidence and holds them together. "try? if... if you will like to try? it looks nice." normal. something people who love each other do.

[shadowedvales]

like this post for a starter call based in jane’s iceland / epilogue verse. i have not written up a proper verse for this yet, but here is some context and info. 1. 2. 3.

[shadowedvales-bye]

jane's speech impediment is not "curable." it progresses, it improves, but she will never speak in the same manner that those around her do. it's not a mere matter of social cues, of growing and learning as she spends time in society. her way of speaking is a direct result of her isolated upbringing, ( and growing up exposed to massive bouts of radiation / far too much technology ) combined with extremely traumatic experiences beginning from a very young age. due to these factors, jane suffers from a severe fluency disorder and a type of orofacial myofunctional disorder (OMD).

she is not just quiet because of her lack of experience; rather because there is a very real disconnect between her brain and mouth. sentences actually sound near perfect in her brain! if she's having a conversation, her reply in her mind is steady and streamlined, with correct punctuation. but when she moves her mouth, it does not come out in the way she intended. sentences are disjointed, lack the proper grammar, and words may even be in the wrong place, or added where they're not necessary. she can scramble for words in one line of dialogue, hesitating and trying to sound out syllables she can't pronounce. then, in the next line, she may speak without any pauses, only using run on sentences. she lacks the proper skills to grasp the english language. stuttering and cluttering are the two prominent symptoms of a fluency disorder. jane has a tendency to clutter, but some signs of stuttering are present, too.

stuttering:

periods of silence when you're trying to begin a sentence but can't start the sound you want to make.

sounds that are held too long ("i ssss-see what you mean.")

syllables or words that are repetitive ("hand me that b-b-book" or "who-who called?")

cluttering:

have a rate or rhythm of speech that sounds rapid, irregular or jerky.

include excessive interruptions during speech ("um," "uh" and "you know")

make changes to your speech in the middle of sentences ("i would like to go can i go?")

notice "maze patterns" of speech, which take multiple turns to get to the point ("i have to go buy a dress… i'm going out on friday and have nothing to wear… i'm going shopping to buy something for this date i have.")

pause unexpectedly in the middle of sentences ("do you want to… come to the movies?")

"someone with a fluency disorder is also likely to try and cover it up. they might try to avoid certain words that tend to cause stuttering or cluttering, or even cough, clear their throat or yawn to distract from symptoms. they might steer clear of situations where they have to speak. someone is more at risk of a fluency disorder if they have a developmental delay or learning disability."

jane's delayed neuromotor development due to not being properly cared for, being malnourished and abused from a young age is also the cause of the orofacial myofunctional disorder.

"OMDs are movement patterns that involve oral and orofacial musculature, which result in incorrect positioning of the tongue at rest and during swallowing, breathing, and speech production. OMDs can occur across the lifespan and diagnosis of OMDs considers the impact of atypical movement patterns on structural changes and functional skills."

"the movement patterns related to the mouth and face muscles that affect the growth of facial structures, communication, and swallowing. these movement patterns impact daily activities such as breathing, talking, and eating. environmental factors can either help or hinder communication and participation."

jane's motor function/functional skills never had the chance to develop the way they were supposed to. she never reached her full height. her shoulders never broadened to their full extent. her teeth didn't grow properly. she was not exposed to physical activity. her body did not develop at normal paces, and most importantly, her brain was never given the supplements it needed -- not to mention being constantly dosed in radiation. all of these factors combined result in these two disorders. at thirteen she is finally exposed to real conversations, has the chance to speak for herself. but by this time, it is far too late to do anything significant to aid these impediments.

while jane has help from her friends and family, her tutor, her therapist, sam owens -- the resources that would be available today simply weren't there in the 80s. she begins seeing a speech pathologist when she is sixteen, although has to travel outside of hawkins as the hospital and school does not offer the tools required for her needs. ( the basic areas covered are: articulation, language development, fluency, voice and resonance, and cognitive-communication. ) due to her turbulent life, appointments can be missed, and they are not as regularly scheduled as they should be.

her speech does improve, there's no doubt about it, but that severe disconnect between her brain and mouth never really does. she can talk for five long minutes, replying and answering with absolute perfection, only for her following reply to suddenly be jointed, sharp; the words are there in her head but as hard as she tries, she can't release them. the frustration she feels only makes it worse. one of the best examples we see of this in the show is during jane and hopper's big argument. jane knows what she wants to say, knows what the proper words are, yet can’t get them out due to the frustration of the situation, and that mental block. "you say… i go. but i never leave! nothing ever happens!" she points to him, to herself, to her surroundings, trying to explain what she means, but not in so many words. when her point can't be made with mere gestures, she needs to force the words out, strained and confused.