#HIS DUMBASS EYES AREN'T ALIGNED ...

[furansupanchimera]

Behold, the only piece of art I've made that actually looks good 🥲🔫

[estellan0vella]

Inheritance of Love│Han Jisung

Chapter Three: Chaotic Boyfriend Energy Word Count: 2.5K & 2 SS Content Warnings: Jisung being a menace, discussions of underwear

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Emma's bedroom is a complete disaster, a battlefield of half-folded clothes, mismatched socks, and abandoned outfit ideas scattered across the floor. Her suitcase sits on the bed, one side packed with military precision. Neatly folded blouses, travel-sized toiletries, and perfectly aligned socks.

The other half is chaos: a tangle of scarves, skirts, and an oversized sweater she keeps tossing in and pulling out. On the floor, a heap of shoes looks like they've been through an intense deliberation process, though Emma still hasn't decided which pairs are coming.

Her phone is propped up against a stack of books and Minho's familiar, groggy face fills the screen. His hair sticks up at odd angles, and he looks deeply unimpressed, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders like he's a sulky king.

"Fucking what, Emma?" Minho grumbles, rubbing his eyes with a fist. "Do you know what time it is here? The sun isn't even awake, and neither should I be."

Emma holds up a sundress, squinting at it before tossing it onto the growing reject pile. "Quit whining. I have news."

Minho narrows his eyes, his irritation replaced by a flicker of curiosity. "Okay, what is it? Did you dump your boyfriend? Win the lottery? Find out you're secretly a chaebol heir?"

Emma rolls her eyes. "No, dumbass. I'm coming to South Korea."

Minho freezes, blinking like she's just told him the world is ending. Then his mouth drops open, and he lets out an ear-splitting whoop that makes her wince. He punches the air like he's just won a championship. "No fucking way! It's about goddamn time, bitch! I thought I'd have to die before you showed your ass here."

Emma laughs, leaning her hip against the dresser. "Jisung's friend is getting married, so we're going for the wedding."

Minho waves dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, wedding, blah blah. Who gives a shit. You're coming. Do you have any idea how long I've waited for this? Do you know how many times my eomma's asked about you? It's like, 'Oh, Minho, Emma is so smart and pretty and successful. Why aren't you more like her?'"

Emma smirks, tossing a scarf into her suitcase. "Sounds like you should try harder."

"Fuck off," Minho says, grinning despite himself. "So, are you meeting Jisung's family?"

Emma pauses, fiddling with the edge of a folded sweater. "Yeah. His eomma, his halmeoni, and probably like, his entire extended family."

Minho whistles, his eyes wide. "Oh shit. That's intense. Sounds like you're gonna come back with extra weight on your left hand."

Emma groans, flopping onto the edge of the bed. "You sound just like my mom."

Minho snickers. "Your mom's not wrong, though. I mean, come on. You're smart as fuck and you're beautiful. They're gonna love you."

Emma huffs, crossing her arms. "What if I fuck it up? Like, what if they expect me to be all polite and perfect and use honorifics, and I just... don't?"

Minho gives her a look, propping himself up on one elbow. "Emma. Listen to me. You're Korean, but you're also American. Their expectations are probably already in the toilet."

"Wow, thanks," Emma deadpans.

"No, no, I mean it in a good way!" Minho insists, gesturing wildly. "Like, they're gonna think you're clueless as shit, and anything remotely respectful you do will blow their minds. Just say Annyeonghaseyo and Gamsahamnida and look cute. You'll be fine."

Emma groans, dragging a hand down her face. "You're so fucking unhelpful."

"And yet, here you are, calling me for advice," Minho says smugly. "Anyway, are you visiting me while you're here, or are you just gonna ditch me for your boyfriend's family drama?"

Emma leans toward her phone, narrowing her eyes. "Obviously, I'm visiting you. Jisung sold the whole trip by saying I'd get to see my favourite asshole."

Minho clutches his chest like he's been shot. "Aw, bitch, you're making me blush."

She rolls her eyes, chuckling as she grabs a pair of heels from the floor and sets them beside her suitcase. "Your parents better have kimchi jjigae ready for me."

"They fucking will," Minho says, pointing a finger at the camera. "My eomma's been waiting to feed you for years. You show up, and she'll practically adopt you on the spot. I'll be chopped liver."

"Sounds like a dream," Emma says with a grin. "Your mom loves me."

"Of course she does. You're her dream daughter-in-law," Minho says, shaking his head dramatically. "She's always like, Minho, why don't you marry someone like Emma? and I'm like, because she's a woman and dating a straight man and I'm gay, you lunatic."

Emma laughs so hard she nearly drops her phone. "Oh my god, stop."

Minho snickers, flopping onto his back. "Anyway, don't forget to bring me some American snacks. I'm sick of eating the same shit every day."

"Fine," Emma says, rolling her eyes. "But only if you promise not to kidnap me."

Minho smirks. "No promises. I might just snatch you right off the street."

"Noted," Emma says, tossing another shirt into her suitcase. "I'll be on high alert."

"Good. I'll see you soon, bitch."

"Bye, Min," Emma says, still laughing as the call ends.

She stares at her suitcase for a moment, the reality of the trip sinking in. She takes a deep breath and dives back into packing, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and nerves.

Emma is folding a blouse neatly into her suitcase when she hears the sound of the door unlocking. She glances up just as Jisung steps inside, his hair slightly windswept and a mischievous grin plastered on his face.

"Wow," he says, taking in the organized chaos of clothes, shoes, and random toiletries strewn across the room. "Uh, need a hand?"

"Please," Emma says, sighing dramatically as she gestures to the growing pile of clothes she hasn't tackled yet.

Jisung drops his bag near the door and strides over, rolling up his sleeves. "Alright, what's the system here? Or are we just chucking shit in and hoping for the best?"

Emma laughs, handing him a small pile of folded tops. "There's a vague system. Tops, bottoms, shoes. Oh, and I've already done toiletries."

"Got it," Jisung says, carefully adding the tops to her suitcase. "Have you called Minho yet? Told him the big news?"

"Just missed him, actually," Emma says, folding another shirt. "He's pretty excited."

"Good," Jisung says, sitting cross-legged on the floor beside her. "I know you've missed him a lot."

"Yeah," Emma says softly, her expression turning nostalgic. "God, it's been like three years. But honestly, we call so much it doesn't even feel that long."

Jisung nods, fiddling with the strap of a sandal he's picked up. "I'm the same with Chan and Changbin. I talk to them nearly every day, but then it hits me, I've been in the States for six years and haven't seen them once. It's insane."

Emma pauses, glancing at him. "That's a long time. Aren't you nervous to see everyone again?"

"A little," Jisung admits, shrugging. "But it's Chan and Changbin, you know? It's not like they'll treat me any differently. Plus, I've got you, so I feel like I'm winning already."

Emma smiles at him, her heart warming at the sincerity in his voice. "You're such a sap."

"Don't tell anyone," Jisung teases, grinning as he moves to help fold another pile of clothes. His hand brushes against her underwear drawer, and he glances at her with a raised brow before pulling it open. "Oh, what do we have here?"

Emma doesn't notice until Jisung holds up a black lace bra, dangling it from one finger. "This," he says, his voice dropping dramatically, "is coming with us."

Emma's face turns bright red. "Jisung, you little shit! Put that back!"

"No way," Jisung says, laughing as he holds the bra to his chest. "This is classy as hell. I'm helping you pack. You should be thanking me."

"By stealing my lingerie?" Emma grabs for the bra, but Jisung pulls it away, grabbing the matching panties and striking a ridiculous pose. "What do you think? Sexy, right?"

Emma collapses into laughter, burying her face in her hands. "Oh my god, you're the worst."

"Worst at being the best," Jisung quips, twirling dramatically. "Come on, admit it. You love me."

Emma lunges forward, snatching the lingerie out of his hands. "I'm rethinking that right now."

"You're lying," Jisung says smugly, flopping onto his back on the floor. "I'm your favourite person in the world."

"Debatable," Emma says, tossing the lingerie into the suitcase before he can grab it again. "Now behave, or I'm leaving you behind."

Jisung sits up, giving her an exaggerated pout. "Rude. I'm literally here folding your clothes. Who's the real victim?"

Emma shakes her head, still laughing. "You're such a pain in the ass."

"And yet," Jisung says, leaning over to kiss her cheek, "here we are. Now, are we packing this ridiculous scarf or what?"

Emma looks at the scarf in his hands and groans. "I don't even know anymore. Just throw it in. At this point, I'm bringing everything."

"That's the spirit," Jisung says, tossing it into the suitcase with a flourish. "Now let's finish this shit so we can eat."

Emma smiles, settling back into the rhythm of packing as Jisung hums a random tune under his breath. The room still looks like a disaster, but with him there, it feels a little less overwhelming.

Emma hears the telltale scrape of her underwear drawer opening again and her head snaps up. “Jisung,” she says, narrowing her eyes as she spots him holding up a pink lace bralette like it’s a trophy.

“Okay, hear me out,” Jisung begins, his grin wide and unapologetic. He spins the bralette on one finger, the lace catching the light. “This one absolutely has to come with us. It says, ‘I’m elegant but also down to fuck.’ The hotel room is gonna be spicy.”

Emma groans, dropping her hands into her lap. “Oh my fucking god. Why are you like this?”

“Because life’s more fun when you’re chaotic,” Jisung quips, tossing the bralette into the suitcase with a flourish. “You’re welcome.”

“Stop messing with my underwear, or so help me-”

“I am helping,” Jisung insists, grabbing another set, a plain white cotton bra and matching panties. He holds them up with mock disdain. “But this? This screams, ‘I’m boring as shit and only drink room-temperature water.’ So, no.”

“Stop judging my underwear!” Emma whines, making a grab for the pile in his hands. Jisung, always quick on his feet, leaps back like a kid avoiding a lecture, his laugh echoing through the room.

“This is important,” he argues, holding up a black lace thong with exaggerated reverence. “Like, what if we suddenly have a moment at the wedding? You gotta be prepared for anything.”

Emma looks at him, utterly exasperated. “A moment? What does that even mean? We’re going to watch two people get married, not film a softcore porno.”

Jisung wiggles his eyebrows. “You never know. Weddings are romantic as fuck. What if we get all swept up in the atmosphere? Better safe than sorry.”

She hurls a folded sock at him. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love me for it,” Jisung says smugly, tossing the thong into the suitcase like it’s the most logical thing in the world. “Okay, lace next. This one screams confidence.”

Emma collapses back onto the bed, burying her face in her hands. “You’re fucking impossible. I quit. Packing is now your problem.”

“Finally!” Jisung declares, sitting cross-legged on the floor like he’s just been given the world’s greatest privilege. He grabs a random pile of her clothes and tosses them unceremoniously into the suitcase. “We’re bringing everything. Easy.”

Emma sits up and watches him, torn between laughter and the urge to murder him. “You are the worst helper in the history of helpers.”

“And yet,” Jisung says, tossing a scarf over his shoulder dramatically, “you’re still letting me hang out in your room and you're dating me. So, who’s the real fool here?”

Emma grabs a pillow and flings it at him, laughing when it hits him square in the chest. “You’re such a child.”

“A child with excellent taste,” Jisung counters, tossing the scarf into the suitcase. He stretches his arms over his head, grinning. “Okay, let’s take a break. Cheesecake?”

Emma raises an eyebrow. “You’re just trying to get out of packing.”

“I’m multitasking,” Jisung says, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Besides, I’m hungry. Dessert first. Always dessert first.”

“Fine,” Emma relents, shaking her head but smiling as she watches him scroll. “What are you ordering?”

“Cheesecake,” he says with the confidence of someone solving world hunger. “A fuck-ton of cheesecake. Classic, chocolate, strawberry... Oh, shit, they have matcha.”

Emma’s eyes light up. “I love matcha.”

“Noted,” Jisung says. “Two matcha slices for you, classic for me, and an Oreo one we can fight over.”

“Sounds perfect,” Emma says, her mouth already watering.

“And churros,” Jisung adds, nodding as if he’s cracked the code to happiness.

Emma snatches his phone. “No churros. You’re already ordering half the menu.”

“Fine,” Jisung grumbles, taking his phone back and finalizing the order. He tosses it onto the bed and grabs the remote. “Movie time. You’re not allowed to say no.”

Emma smirks, already knowing where this is headed. “Let me guess. Howl’s Moving Castle?”

“Duh,” Jisung says, plopping onto the couch and pulling her along. “It’s the best. And you better stay awake this time, or I’m divorcing you before we’re even married.”

Emma settles beside him, curling into his side. “You’ve got big dreams for someone who jas been critiquing my underwear.”

Jisung grins, pulling her closer. “All part of my charm.”

As the opening notes of Howl’s Moving Castle play, Emma glances at Jisung, who’s humming along to the music like he’s in a concert hall. He’s annoyingly cute when he’s focused like this, even when he’s being an absolute menace.

“Seriously,” he says, pointing at the screen as Howl makes his grand entrance. “Tell me this isn’t peak hotness. Dude’s mysterious, dramatic, and has great hair. He’s basically me.”

Emma chokes on a laugh. “You? You think you’re Howl?”

“Obviously,” Jisung says, nodding. “I don’t have a moving castle, but I’ve got the drama down. And the hair.”

“First of all,” Emma says, sitting up to look at him. “You’re a gremlin, not a wizard. Second, Howl would never waste his time digging through someone’s underwear drawer.”

“Wrong,” Jisung argues. “He’d totally do it. Dude’s got chaotic boyfriend energy just like me.”

Their bickering is interrupted by the buzz of Jisung’s phone. “That’s the cheesecake!” he announces, leaping off the couch like a kid on Christmas morning.

When he returns, he’s balancing a box stacked with cheesecake slices, his grin wider than it has any right to be. “Feast your eyes.”

Emma sits up, clapping her hands together. “Holy shit. That’s... a lot.”

“Only the best for you,” Jisung says, opening the box with a dramatic flourish. “Matcha, classic, chocolate, strawberry, and one Oreo. Prepare to be amazed.”

Emma grabs a fork, already digging into the matcha slice. “This is the best decision you’ve ever made.”

Jisung leans back, shoving a forkful of classic cheesecake into his mouth. “I know. I’m a genius. Now shut up and watch. We’re at the part where Howl loses his shit.”

Emma laughs around a bite of cheesecake, leaning against him. The room is still a mess, her suitcase half-packed, but she doesn’t care. Right now, everything feels chaotic and perfect all at once.

Taglist: @ot8girlfie @fackeraccount @sellomaybe @nightmarenyxx

@rhonnie23 @reimaybeidk

[madaboutmunson]

People = Shit (Part 10 of 11 of Let Me Call You Sweetheart)

Warnings for the entire story not just this chapter: Darkfic, out of character Eddie Munson, alternative universe, present day, Death, abuse (emotional, mental and physical, harassment, violence, torture, imprisonment, coersion, unrequited love, drugs, alcohol, illness, blood, gore, food disorder, mental illness, vampirism, hypnotism, weirdness, the upside down, bats, monsters

@munchabunch

You watch the coffee pot gurgle away as you say across the table from Eddie, avoiding his eyes. You'd been putting up a good fight all night, but you weren't sure how much you had left.

You break the silence, "Do you think they'll let me play tomorrow?"

"I think they'd be a sorry lot of dumbasses if they didn't", he answers.

"I just want to play, you know? Nothing comes close to that feeling on stage, not a thing I've experienced in my whole life."

"Look, even if this time isn't your time, there will be other chances. It's not like the planets have to align. You actually have talent. I know you think it's just the guitar, but it's not. She lets you play like that, but she doesn't make you play like that," He says, leaning forward across the table towards you.

You get up quickly from your seat to get the coffee, anything to create distance between you both. You pour two cups and set them in the middle of the table, too afraid to place the cup near him.

He pulls the cup towards him. You roll your eyes at yourself. You forgot the sugar and cream. You reach over the sink to get it when you hear Eddie shout, "Enough!"

You turn towards his voice, but he moves impossibly fast towards you, his face inches from yours. His hands grip the counter top either side of you.

Through clenched teeth, he says, "I need you to relax."

"Jesus, Eddie! I'm calm ok" you say, looking at his face.

His eyes are trained on your neck, "No, you aren't", he says, biting his lips. You hear the countertop beside you crunch under his hand, "I really can't emphasise enough how much you need to relax right now because I am seconds away from draining the ever-living essence out of you" a droplet of blood runs down the side of his bottom lip.

You close your eyes quickly, think of playing the guitar in your closet, and take deep breaths. You were still afraid, but you manage to slow your heartbeat a little.

His eyes soften, and he lets go of the counter and moves back to his seat. You grab your coffee and chuck it down the sink.

You grab a saucepan, fill it with milk and malt powder, and heat it up on the stove.

You dare not look at him through fear of setting yourself off again.

"So...that explains...some things," you try to joke a little, pouring yourself a hot malt drink.

"That wasn't supposed to happen," he says, almost annoyed.

"Would you rather I stayed over here, or may I sit back down?" You ask.

"You can sit," he says

You sit in your chair and take a sip of your drink, looking at the table, "At least I feel slightly less insane about the whole guitar thing now", you laugh.

"How are you like this?" He laughs.

"Dude. I have felt insane all week, and this made me feel normal, like, oh, Vampire, that makes sense. It's the first thing that made sense this time!" You smile at him.

"And you can just accept that?" Eddie says, tilting his head at you.

"Seriously, I threw someone across a room with the power of the guitar, which by the way was talking to me, in my head,  and is like obsessed with you....like, ending people obsessed. I think processing that a person I only see at night, who threatened to, and I quote, 'Drain me' and who can be entirely hypnotic, is a vampire is much easier to accept."

He leans back in his chair and gives a huge grin, exposing his fangs to your unashamedly for the first time.

"Well...I am flattered," he says, laughing.

"Ok, good, maybe you can tell me what the fuck is happening because I am losing my mind."

"Well-" He starts. Only to be interrupted by a knocking at the door.

You sit still in silence until you start hearing a dull thud against the door every few seconds, and you get up to answer it before someone breaks your door in two.

"Hey, please stop. I'm here." You say, putting the door chain across and opening up the door a little bit.

You are met with the sweaty face of Mr Harrington and a little wave from Dustin Henderson, "Is he here?" They say in unison.

You look over at where Eddie was, but he's gone.

"He's gone now," you say, unchaining the door.

Mr Harrington starts shouting into the air, "If you're still here, Eddie, we just want to talk"

"How desperate are you for these reshoots, exactly? " You ask, folding your arms.

"It's pretty urgent," Dustin says, pulling back a curtain sharply to see if Eddie is behind it.

"Now you've invited him in, you should probably come back to mine for safety", Mr Harrington reasons, still searching around.

"No, I'm good, thanks, Mr Harrington," you say kindly.

Dustin rounds on you, "You aren't afraid of Eddie?"

You look confused, "No...well...you know what, no. I have been alone with him often. I don't have many reasons to be afraid of him" this was a half-truth. Being pinned up against the counter had been scary, but now you know his truth. He could have literally killed you at any point but didn't.

"You've been *alone* with him", Mr Harrington panics.

"Oh geez, not like that," you say, disgusted.

Mr Harrington breathes a sigh of relief with his hand on his chest.

"But I mean, who could blame someone if they did, right?" You say a little too thoughtfully.

Mr Harrington shrugs a little, nodding, and Dustin shakes his head at you both.

You look over them both a bit more closely now. They are armed with wooden stakes, crossbows, and daggers.

"What the actual fuck?" You exclaim, "Are you trying to kill him??!"

They both freeze until Mr Harrington speaks, "He is not your friend." He says seriously, searching around the house.

"Ok, well, I'd prefer my home did not become a murder scene, ok? If I ever see him again, I'll ask him to call you. Unless, of course, this isn't about the game at all?" You eye them suspiciously.

Mr Harrington goes to say something, but Dustin stops him, "We just want to talk to him."

You narrow your eyes at them both. Something wasn't right here. Eddie had no reason to hide from them, and yet he did.

"Well, if he turns up again, I'll be sure to let you know" this time, it is actually a lie, and they know it, "I suggest you leave my house before I have to call someone to remove you."

Dustin looks at you like you are insane. Mr Harrington is still shouting into the air, "Eddie...we just want to talk...please...whatever you've got planned...just...we're sorry, ok?"

The sorry hangs in the air, and you feel your lip curl into a sneer.

"I think you should both leave." You say more sternly, your hand inching towards your guitar case.

"Steve...STEVE!!!" Dustin yells, walking backwards away from you.

Mr Harrington eventually diverts his attention from the air to you. He looks between you and the guitar case. You narrow your eyes at him and flick open a clasp.

As Mr Harrington goes to charge forward, Dustin grabs him and starts pulling him towards the door, "They're a lost cause", he looks to you as he shoves Mr Harrington out of the door, "We're leaving, ok" he puts his free hand in the air like he's surrendering.

You let them leave.

You run over to the door, put on all the locks, and barricade the door, moving around the house and ensuring all windows and doors are secured. Finally, you settle in the living room, your guitar case open next to you.

"Eddie?" You call out gently, the guitar strings hum, and a mist crawls along the floor to the armchair opposite, and slowly his form appears.

You breathe a sigh of relief.

"Why did you run?" You ask with genuine concern.

He steeples his fingers, "They won't allow me to explain, or at least won't try to understand, that all of this is a means to an end."

Eddie tells you what happened in 1986 "I couldn't go home, and they couldn't stay where I was. At first, they tried to split their time, but soon they had other responsibilities. As they got older, I stayed the same. As they had families, I stayed the same. As they betrayed me and left me to rot!! I. stayed. The. same." He emphasises each of those last words.

"But with time on my hands, I found I could do more than I realised. The first clue was the guitar, which initially they had been kind enough to leave me. But, if I played it right with all my might, I could see glimmers of the past or the future."

"I was foolish enough to tell them about my discoveries, intentions, and hopes that I could change my fate. They warned me about what could happen, but I just wanted to have my life back, grow old with them, but they refused."

His face looks furious, but his eyes swim with agonising pain.

"So they stole her from me. Hid her away in a vault, where no one could touch her. Then I had to wait. I waited so very long...years...decades. Wasting away. Feeding on wasteland creatures... Until she tempted someone to play her again. Oh, and when I heard her sing my name, I was home." He closes his eyes, and a tear escapes, but his face is pure ecstasy.

He leans forward in his seat, hunched over enthusiastically, "But one day, something weird happened. Someone called me. Some hippy dippy seance shit around Hawkins, and it thinned the veil. So I gave them a show. You know the whole lights flickering thing, spelling out their names, rookie shit. So more people came, and I gave them more theatrics each time the veil thinned. Once it was thin enough in that place, I eventually learned how to pass through the barrier without them. "

"It took me a year to track down both guitars, with the help of some people on this side of things. Minions, if you will. They wanted to be turned, and sure, I promised them I would, but I had no intention of doing it. Humans will do the wildest things if you can give them what they crave." He shakes his head and laughs. "I knew in my cold, dead heart that if it was possible to change my fate, I could change the fate of all of what happened in Hawkins."

He looks over at your open guitar case and looks back at you

"I couldn't get hold of the one in the vault, but I could get the veil thin enough there to pass through whenever I wanted, but to not sound the alarm, I had to leave her there in that...that...prison" his fists clench.

"It was the same story with the other guitar, I could do things, but there was not enough power. I dragged many a famous guitarist to their demise so we could play in unison, and though the power was there, the connection was not. I needed a soul match, one the guitars would respond to like they respond to me. Which I found completely by accident about two years ago."

"Two kids, desperate for love and stardom. All they needed was someone to pave the path for them to walk. Though one was more of a confident walker than the other." He gives you a wry smile

Your jaw drops a little, "Terry and Harley..." You say in a whisper. He nods.

"I gave them the objects of their affection. Jenna was easy. She was free to go wherever. But, for you, I had to lay a complex set-up. An affordable guitar, a job position suddenly opening up, but we got you there " he smiles proudly.

"Thankfully, due to toxic masculinity, Terry had a lot of wrestling with his feelings, or even, you know, expressing them. Which gave me time to get to know you. I saw how you lived. I saw your passions, your failings, your joy, your tears, your heart and soul. I saw it all, and I never once interfered."

"I'd obviously heard about the carnival, and for shits and giggles, I thought I'd scare the living hell out of Steve and Dustin by putting her in the window across the road."

He reaches over and takes your hand, "But then you saw her because she called you over, and the rest is history."

"I hide from them because they don't believe in me and would rather end me than take a chance on a different life."

"How do you know it will work?" You say curiously.

"Because we already did a test, remember?" He says, looking into your eyes.

"My nightmare? The guy with the spear. That was you before this. In the past?"

He nods and smiles happily, "We saved him," he says, gripping your hand between his.

"And I think we can do it for all of Hawkins. We just need enough power" he looks awkwardly at the floor.

"But the power isn't generated by the music alone?" You venture.

He shakes his head, "It isn't enough"

You nod, understanding, "The bat cull, right?"

"Right," he says

"Except the bats are too small fry to undo everything," you say nervously.

He takes your chin on his index finger and lifts it up, so you look at him again. "I'm not asking you to commit a sin you haven't already..." He says tentatively.

"Oh..." You say your eyes fill with tears, and your heart rate picks up, "I didn't imagine those things."

A flash of red glints in Eddie's eyes, "Relax, please", he says, tensing his jaw, "all of that is cleared away for you. No one will know except us."

You shut your eyes again and think about playing your guitar in the closet, but the guitar is dripping with blood, guts and brains.

You bring your knees up to your chest and clasp your hands over your head, gently rocking yourself. Trying to self-soothe to block out the panic. Then, snapshots flash into your mind with the realisation of what you had done. How could you have done those horrific things?!

Eddie snarls and grabs at your throat. He squeezes his eyes shut and just manages to reign it in, "GODDAMMIT!" He yells through his teeth and then shakily says, "I'm going to move away, alright? Do not, and I cannot emphasise this enough, do not make any sudden movements."

"Do you think it would help if you went out and found yourself something to eat?" You say hoarsely, keeping absolutely still, "Mainly because you keep telling me to relax, but it's you that's on a hair trigger."

"Touché," he says, wiping his mouth with his fingers, "I don't know how much it will help but let me see what I can find, and I'll be right back" he turns to mist and leaves again.

You curl up tighter into your ball and sob. You'd killed them. The first might have been an accident, but the second and third were very deliberate. So now you were a murderer. Who could possibly understand that?

Maybe if Eddie was right, he was your best chance. If you could pull this plan off, you could undo all of this.

Your phone buzzes, a message from Terry, "We want you to play with us tomorrow."

You think back to what Eddie had told you about your so-called friends. You weren't anything but a thing to them, a collectable, a lead guitarist, a potential love interest, not a person who could make their own way.

You grip the phone tightly and type through your ire, "Thank you so much. I'll make sure it's unforgettable!"

You take the time Eddie is away to sob and rage as much as you possibly can. You want to make sure to exhaust yourself, so you can remain as calm as possible around him.

You take it out on your surroundings. First, finding an old baseball bat and taking out the cabinets in the living room. Then all the delicate China dolls on display that were a daily reminder of what a less than perfect specimen you were. Next to meet their demise all your father's old sports trophies. A reminder of your own inadequacies.

You only stop when you almost cut yourself on some broken glass and decide to do a careful sweep-up. Before going out to sit on the back porch and try to use some star gazing to relax, so on his return you can understand the plan of action. You needed to be centred, focused, and with no distractions. You could do this. You could make this right.

Eddie assembles next to you, "Bet that can be a lot of fun", you say with half a smile.

"Oh, the mist stuff, yep, very handy. Speaking of...did you clear out your living room or something?" He says curiously.

"Or something", you mumble, looking at the floor.

Eddie puts his arm around your shoulders, and you quickly shrug out of it, "No one who really knew those people will miss them. They were bad, terrible people." He says

"Just because someone is bad doesn't give me the right to hurt them, Eddie."

"We are gonna change all that. We are gonna undo all of this"

"We are? At least that will be some good...I can't undo what I am now...who could ever understand what I did? Everyone hates me now, so fuck it, right?"

"I understand what you did. I'm on your side," Eddie says in earnest.

"Got a funny way of showing it", you laugh, touching your neck.

"Yeah, well, I'm trying my best here. Also, you are one to talk. I can fucking hear you avoiding my eyes," He says, frustrated.

"Because the voice in my head is actually insane for you, and no offence, but I'm like not there with it. In that bar, I felt that jealousy, but I knew it wasn't mine, but it was coursing through me."

"Yes, exactly...How can I put this...I've been at this undead stuff for quite a while. I can handle myself just fine around all sorts of heightened emotions, but when I hear your pulse race, it's not just your pulse. I can hear her too. So you are intertwined, just like me and mine. Except even if you were a Vampire, you wouldn't hear mine because I'm dead so... but just know it is so very, very, very tempting." He says, trailing off, looking at your neck again.

You clap your hands hard in front of his face, "Hey! No!"

He glowers at you.

"I'm just trying to keep it professional in here. Though I do have a couple of questions."

"Ok, shoot "

"You said you promised a bunch of minions you'd turn them, but you never did. Why? Also, have you ever turned anyone else into a vampire?"

"Mainly because they don't understand what they will miss out on or how much extra pain and loss you have to go through, and no, I've never turned anyone else."

"Would you?"

"No," he says quickly" Are you asking for yourself?"

"No, I don't think so. Even though the powers seem very cool, It sounds very lonely."

"So tomorrow..." He quickly changes the subject, "We'll take the encore when the place is full to capacity."

"Do you think this can really work? Like, we can barely sit in the same room as one another without something almost going wrong." You say, rubbing your hand down the side of your face, "And with the bats, you looked real bad at the end."

"In that place, I'm sort of part of all, so when you kill a bat or cut a vine, that happened to me too, but we aren't doing that this time. That won't happen again," he animatedly assures you.

"The other thing? Shit, I don't know. It seemed easier with the guitars there, though. Maybe we could..." He quickly grabs a chunky piece of stick for the floor, quickly slicing off the loose bark with one of his fingernails like it was a pen knife. Once satisfied, he says, "practice?" He puts it between his teeth, bites down on it, and tilts his head at you, raising his eyebrows.

You think for a moment, grab his bandana from his pocket, and hand it to him. He nods and ties it around his face knotting it at the back of his head.

You reach around the back of his head quickly and ensure the knot is tightened.

His head immediately snaps to look at your neck, and you hear a faint crunch sound next to your ear. You move away slowly and dare to look up at him. The whites of his eyes are red, and his usual brown eyes look like his iris has wholly disappeared.

"Sorry, I was just testing," you say, looking at the floor.

Something instinctively raises your hand upwards, so your palm is facing Eddie. He mirrors your actions, so your hands are a few centimetres apart.

You see a tiny dark swirling cloud appear in the gap, like the ones that filled the sky in your nightmare.

Your heart rate starts to pick up. Your eyes move between your hands and Eddies face.

He's trying desperately to keep his eyes on your hands.

"Closer.. " the voice in your head hisses. You slowly push your hand another tiny increment towards Eddie's.

The voice in your head exhales with pleasure, and the tiny swirling cloud disappears into a blip, like turning off an old TV.

Before you can register any disappointment, an explosion of red lightning erupts, encircling your hands and snaking its way up your arms.

You can see Eddie's demonic eyes squinted like he's smiling under there, and a drop of blood falls from his eye. "He's home," two voices say in your mind, you immediately feel your heart slow, and you feel entirely at peace for a few moments, but the electricity having nowhere to go, begins to burn your arm, and you have to tear your hand away.

You shake some sparks from your arm. "Shit!"

Eddie grabs you by your shoulders. You realise his restraints are missing, but he's not aggressively shaking you. It's pure, innocent excitement.

He smiles widely at you, his eyes returning to normal, "Oh my fucking god!!! We can actually do this. I know now, she told me. We are going to fix everything. Right back to Henry. We can save them all."

You look up at him and smile back, feeling for the first time that you were worthwhile, you could make a difference, you mattered, you weren't a waste of oxygen,  and you had a purpose.

You instinctively look away from him.

"Hey! no!" He says excitedly, turning your head back to him," it was just something we had to push past. Look!" He holds your hand near his again, and the sparks and smoke fire up straight away, but you aren't scared this time. Eddie's eyes don't change. "See!" He says, laughing, shaking his head.

You hear a car screech to a halt outside, "EDDIE!!" You hear Mr Harrington yell. Both your heads snap in the direction of the familiar voice.