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Summary
There’s that feeling before the drop, the instinctual part of her that says 'find them and don’t let go', don’t turn your back. It’s been a flickering feeling that will hit her with force some days, some odd moments when she wakes up in the Wheeler’s basement or finds herself alone in her room. But it’s always been blind panic, her body reading it wrong. This is real, and now.
Robin finds Nancy and Steve finds her, baseball bat already in hand.
“He’s here.” Will whispers, helpless.
Dread hits Robin like a bowling ball to the stomach. 18 months of borrowed time, gone like smoke.
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During October of 87' Vecna begins the final assault. He starts by flaying Robin Buckley. -
Bookmark Notes:
There’s that feeling before the drop, the instinctual part of her that says 'find them and don’t let go', don’t turn your back. It’s been a flickering feeling that will hit her with force some days, some odd moments when she wakes up in the Wheeler’s basement or finds herself alone in her room. But it’s always been blind panic, her body reading it wrong. This is real, and now.
Robin finds Nancy and Steve finds her, baseball bat already in hand.
“He’s here.” Will whispers, helpless.
Dread hits Robin like a bowling ball to the stomach. 18 months of borrowed time, gone like smoke.
_________________________________
During October of 87' Vecna begins the final assault. He starts by flaying Robin Buckley. -
Bookmark Notes:
Finished and angry
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Bookmark Notes:
We are going for a JOYRIDE. Beep beep, bitch! We're serving up fresh torture with a SMILE! The highest quality prose paired with a side of hot lesbian disaster seasoned with shame.
Oh, Robin Buckley, my beloved, but what if you liked it? The feeling of freedom. Retribution. Vindictive victory. What if you held control in your hands for a single, glorious moment... and you never wanted to let it go? What if you had to? Would you pick it up again? Would the look of terror in her eyes bring you to your knees or would it inspire your passion to free her from fear? She could love you, you rotten unlovable thing, if only you made her.
Oh, oh, you beautiful horrible masterpiece. I place you on my bookshelf with pride.