#anyways bat eddie my beloved

[unspecifiedfigure]

bat eddie and his pretzel obsession

[robinsnest2111]

Eddie Munson, my most beloved, I gift you this bat sweater I imagined you wearing weeks ago

little bit of an exercise to get used to drawing his gorgeous face ✨

[henrysglock]

High Existence and ZeroSpace: The First Shadow and NINA May Be Massive, Immersive Drug Trips

The blurb in last Friday's video from TFS sounded familiar, but I couldn't place it. I found a lot of sites quoting The Alchemist about the universe conspiring to give you what you truly want (which is similar and it's probably what I was thinking of when this blurb registered as familiar), but I couldn't find this exact quote:

Well...not at first, anyway. I decided to stick every word I could make out here ^ into my search bar...and I found where the blurb comes from:

This blog post is quite literally the only source I could find for it, and the whole damn thing is directly lifted.

Right off the bat, the site fucking jump-scared me:

And it doesn't end there. Let's dive in, because this rabbit hole is a trip unto itself...no MDMA​ ​required.

1. The Fucking Website...#1 (HighExistence.com)

High Existence is a sort of drug-induced-spiritual-trip centered self-help site.

It's got blog posts and podcasts and all that jazz. Here are some of the highlights:

Wow! That was...a lot. A lot of words from the word show, too:

Wholeness, heroes, ancient aliens, prisons of politeness, and the fucking Shire, too, I guess. Why not?

(An Aside: I've included the VR in here too because of the sheer similarities between Henry's experience with the Shadow in VR, El's experience in NINA, and The First Shadow in general.)

Like fuck it, why not keep going, these posts date back to at least 2017:

And don't let me start in on that Creel boy and Faust...

[Jason voice] "[Eddie] made a deal with the devil and now he has his powers!" (Also we get it, one of them is neurotic and the other is psychotic. I've been saying this since like...forever)

Of course, all that insanity aside, the Russian base arc has just...an insane amount of ST4 and TFS stuff packed into it in general:

(And this isn't even all of it. I know others [cough] Stav Heroesbyler [cough] have covered it even more...but bro it is THERE)

But most importantly for the NINA arc:

Three things: Dialogue doubling (there's the one I showed, plus a) Robin yelling "Wipeout!" at Steve which has the pipeline -> "Wipeout!" at Rink-O-Mania -> 002-005 bullying El in a very similar manner and b) Steve's "that's amazing" line about the water fountain -> "This is amazing!" not only from Alice irt the Creel house but also from Mike irt Will's painting on their way to save El from NINA. Again, these are just a few of MANY instances), makeup doubling with the bloodshot eyes, and my beloved: set/prop doubling.

I love that beautiful framing on the nearly-identical square clocks. I have so much to say about that clock, but specifically:

The clocks being set 9 minutes apart, which happens to be the exact length of time from the end of Vecna's voiceover in 4.07 to the start of the fight sequence in 4.07 (aka the length of One's frozen-clock monologue).

Not only that, but the clock isn't even right. It says it's 3:55, but it's definitely not 3:55 AM (see: movie theater scene) but it's also not 3:55 PM:

(And why do we have a clock in an elevator anyway? That's the real question. That thang only exists to deliver subtext, baby! It exists to connect the two scenes further!)

Anyway, as you all likely noticed, this site mostly deals in psychedelics, stimulants, and empathogens.

link

Hell, you could even pull One's bit on the ecosystem into it, since he's describing connections between beings that are being disturbed/destroyed by humanity.

Anyway, the site tends to center specifically on DMT and MDMA...so let's talk about those:

MDMA & DMT An aside: Interesting to me that psychosis here can be counteracted with sedatives. Makes me wonder if whatever happened in 1979 could have been halted if they'd just tranq'd One. Hm.

First off: Did I read that right? Piggy-backing? Damn, son. 4.09, The Piggyback, is pictured in that paragraph. So is Brenner's candy bit with the children -> "candy flipping" vs LSD use in Brenner's lab.

Second: Ah, how nice. Intravenous/injectable. Just like how El is constantly being shot up with...something...to enter NINA.

Now, nearly all psychedelics can induce psychosis, but especially so if they're combined with other psychoactive substances and/or if the user has a history of psychosis (either themselves or in their family).

However, MDMA specifically has been posited as a treatment for PTSD and retrograde/traumagenic amnesia:

link Like...wow. Okay, I guess!

tl;dr: One seems to have been tripping fucking balls during the monologue. Literally every fucking version of him. El likely is as well. Funny how that works. Was any of that real? [smash cut to the way blood pours down the walls and the dead children dance around in the VR version of NINA] And either way, Henry in TFS isn't far behind with his hallucinogenic moments.

The connection? Whatever the hell is going on in Hawkins Labs...and symptoms of drug use.

I was not expecting to get this much out of a single rabbit hole. But...that's life with this show, isn't it? And this is only Part 1.

2. The Fucking Website...#2 (Futurism.com)

The guy who made that original post that TFS lifted the blurb from (Jordan Lejuwaan) runs a couple different websites. The most interesting one is Futurism, which is basically an online version of the Weekly Watcher:

It won't let me filter by date, but it seems to have been founded in 2017, stemming from an infographic subreddit. (Now, it says it's a trustworthy news source, and maybe it is, but... Do your own assessment of that. I'm not your mother, yknow?)

Jordan Lejuwaan was also involved in something far more interesting irt Stranger Things...

3. Zero Space

Jordan co-founded an immersive, interactive theater experience called ZeroSpace back in 2018. As we all know, TFS was just in the beginning phase of its creation around this time.

So...This was like a brick to the skull:

"Alice in Wonderland" (don't get me started: rabbit fuckery, DRUGS!!!!!, clocks/being later, Alice Creel, Fringe connections (Through The Looking Glass and What Walter Found There being the episode about the pocket universe where 20 years passed in 5 days...and also wherein we find out about him hiding away an Observer child that he will later time travel with to save the world from the Observer takeover...erasing himself from time/the timeline by doing so...there is SO much) not to mention the "one pill makes you larger/smaller" vs teen El and baby El...it's too much to try and fit in this post), "ALIENS AND LASERS", "stretch the perceived reality of the sense", "art, actors and your own mind converge to prompt MORE QUESTIONS THAN ANSWERS" (which was a common complaint about TFS: it leaves people with more questions than answers).

("See you on the other side" being an in-show line from Henry in the lab to Patty in the void, but this image is ripped directly from the same promo video that the High Existence blurb appears in.)

Here's a little taste of what ZeroSpace is like, but I suggest going to the actual page to see it in action:

It's heavily heavily reminiscent of TFS, even just in the content warnings...

Not to mention the actual show content SFX:

However, the goal of TFS isn't to stretch our senses. We're just watching. We are not the volunteer seeing the other side.

For most of the show, that person is Henry (except the first 5 mins, when it's Cptn. Brenner and his crew literally experiencing the other side). Henry is doing the experiencing. He's the one breaking the fourth wall by picking at/breaking the sets, the one running through the audience and leaving out the theater doors (only to end up right back on stage just like El in the Rainbow Room in 4.05).

With each bit of info I find out adjacent to the play, the more convinced I am that this is some secret third boy's experience in a NINA-like simulation.

Overall—

a) TFS most likely isn't wholly real, and it seems very likely that it's the same kind of simulation as NINA.

b) El was probably drugged up with some kind of empathogenic psychedelic going into NINA, likely with the goal of setting her up to form emotional connections quickly and deeply only to rip that deep connection away in order to bolster her abilities.

c) NINA is not, then, wholly based in truth. Parts of NINA (staring at the bullying from 002-005) may have been generated from El's memories of the outside world.

d) With NINA and TFS seeming so similar, I wouldn't be shocked if parts of it are just one massive empathogen trip (staring at how quickly Henry and Patty bond, similarly to how quickly Henry and El bond in NINA).

e) Whoever is in NINA with teen El is also tripping balls, most likely, and may have gone off the rails in that regard. However, that's in a simulation...hard to assign guilt or blame for things done in a fictional/unreal world.

f) Whoever was with baby El in 1979 may have been in a similar situation "moving chess pieces"-style instead. Read: drugged in order to put him in a situation where he would bolster El's latent abilities...and it went wrong (see also: Walter Bishop's orchestrated/fake massacre meant to bolster Olivia's latent abilities.)

g) Richard Brenner having been the head of narcotics makes me question which Brenner we're seeing at any given time: Martin, or Richard?

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week's writer spotlight feature is: @kkpwnall! They have eight Stranger Things and Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson works on archive of our own!

An anonymous nominator recommends the following works by kkpwnall:

driving in your car

love is like ghosts

where's the spark?

if it wasn’t for bad luck i wouldn’t have luck at all

wanted: pool boy at the vampire mansion

KK's works have a consistent feel of genuine, heartfelt, human connection. Whether it’s a big, dramatic scene as the climax of a slow, delicious build-up of tension, or a mundane, slice-of-life tidbit, the characters always feel true to themselves, and their voices are perfectly nailed each and every time. And by that I mean, you can literally hear the dialogues in the characters’ voices—they’re THAT good. KK explores classic Steddie themes in their longfic Driving In Your Car, and they have a handful of wonderful one-shots and two-shots, each and every one of them delving into how much these boys love each other for who they are. In short, KK’s body of work feels like a love letter of the characters. If you love Steve and Eddie, chances are you’ll love their fics. - anonymous

Below the cut, @kkpwnall answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie? 

They’re such a compelling and complementary pairing. Like, it seems like an opposites attract / odd-couple pairing on the surface, but beneath each of their exteriors, they’re so similar. They’re dork4dork, loser4loser, idiot4idiot, they’re both huge nerds but in different ways. They want and need and express affection through physical touch and words of affirmation (I mean, just look at the walking through the forest scene!) Plus they just have this insane chemistry that any time I think “there’s no way they did that, it’s all in my head”, I’ll go back and watch those scenes again, it’s just like “no, this absolutely checks out, they are so into each other from the word go”. And they’re just made for each other! I mean, come on! Matching scars? Nail bat and nail shield? Jock and nerd? They’re two halves of the same coin! What I really love about them too is that they’re both Just Some Guy, they’re silly, goofy, dorky guys! But mostly, I write steddie because it makes me happy and really satisfies part of my brain like nothing else. 

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

Other than “Eddie Munson Lives” hahah, I’ll try just about anything written or recommended by a beloved mutual. Mutual pining, fix-it’s, missing scenes, and first kiss fics are top tier for me, and right now I’m really partial to fluffy romcom fics. If it’s got good flirting and banter, it’s got me hooked.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

My absolute favorite to write is mutual pining (aka the love is requited, they’re both just being stupid). Miscommunication is a close second, the kind that can’t easily be resolved with just a sticky note on the fridge. Whether it’s mishearing something or misunderstanding something (even the character misunderstanding their own feelings!), I find it super compelling to write. But for a specific scenario, my favorite will always be Steve having a bad time at a party.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

It’s impossible for me to pick just one, so I have to recommend 3 of my friends: Anyway It’s About Old Friends by @fragilecapric0rnn, and wanna be the only one for miles and miles (except for maybe you) by @judasofsuburbia, and everybody else (everybody else looks like they’ve figured it out) by @heybluechild. Anything by these fine folks is just fantastic, they’re all incredible writers and dear friends!

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I’d really like to write more AU’s! I’ve been tossing around ideas for college-aged+ aus (writing them a little older), 90s aus, a cowboy au… Mostly I’m just excited to keep writing them!

What is your writing process like?

Ahah it’s not much of a process. I write down every idea I have, no matter how small it is. Sometimes it’s a line of dialogue or a moment of a scene, but it all goes into the notes app and percolates in the back of my brain for a while. Eventually that dialogue or scene might coalesce into something bigger on its own, or combine with other snippets, and then ya got yourself a stew!

Do you have any writing quirks?

I really love writing dialogue, it’s my favorite way to get inside their heads, especially trying to balance what they say or don’t say, vs what they actually mean. I also love adding little details to fill out the world and the scene. It might not be necessary, but it feels like it brings everything together for me. And I like treating writing a fic like building a puzzle, trying to figure out just the right way to get all the pieces to fit together so the whole thing really sings.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

I’m still playing around with what I prefer. With driving in your car, I started out by posting a chapter only when the following chapter was completely written, so I’d always have one in the tank. But that got to feel too much like I was just sitting on chapters for the sake of sitting on them, so I started posting each chapter as I finished it and felt good about it. I don’t do super well with a schedule for posting fics, I’ve got too many deadlines in my life as it is haha.

Which fic are you most proud of?

driving in your car, for sure. It’s my baby, my magnum opus, my kitchen sink fic (it’s got everything). It’s got so much of myself in it, it’s very personal, and very near and dear to my heart.

How did you get the idea for driving in your car?

I wrote a long post about this when the idea was just starting to percolate, but the long and short of it is I wanted to read more fics that reflected my own experiences as an older teen growing up in a suffocating small town, where really the only option you have is to just pile in the car with your friends and drive around aimlessly, because that’s the only way you can get any freedom or privacy. I wanted to see what life was like for the fruity four trying to get back to “normal” while also trying to deal with the fact the world almost ended AGAIN, and all their complicated messy feelings for one another.

What inspired love is like ghosts?

Like many people have guessed / suspected, it’s very much inspired by Buzzfeed Unsolved / Watcher Ghost Files, and a loving homage to ghost hunting shows. I’m a huge scaredy cat when it comes to anything horror, but I love a good ghost hunting show. The study room setting is also inspired by the miniscule closet-sized study rooms in the library at the college I went to.

What was your favorite part to write from love is like ghosts?

Parts of their make out scene was the first snippet I wrote and the one that really got the whole ball rolling with that fic, to try to figure out who this Steve and this Eddie are, and what would have to happen lead them to making out that hard in the study room. It was also the first steamy spicy almost-smutty scene I’d written, and it was so fun to learn how to write like that!! I also just love their banter in this fic, they’re both so sassy and ridiculous and completely gone on each other.

How do/did you feel writing where’s the spark??

Ooft this one was a doozy. This is actually the second draft, and the only time so far I’ve all but completely scraped the first draft and rewritten a fic. The first draft leaned really heavily into the loneliness of the holidays, my playlist for it was all of the most maudlin holiday songs, and it really started negatively affecting my mood and mindset. But I got some really great advice and help brainstorming from dear friends, and turned it around into a fic I’m really happy with. The holiday blues are still present, but there’s so much more love there now, and that’s really what the fic is all about.

What was the most difficult part of writing where’s the spark??

Finding that balance of holiday blues and love was really tricky, and I wrote for a lot of characters I hadn’t tried writing before either. From a technical perspective too, it was a big challenge to figure out how to keep the fic moving, and the party moving around Steve when all he wanted to do was wallow.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

It’s so so hard to pick just one, but I love how this line in love is like ghosts turned out: And Steve is dumbstruck, kiss-drunk, half-fucked.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I have a holiday exchange fic coming out soon (hopefully before the holidays, fingers crossed), and I’m excited to dive into my prompt for lex’s winter fic challenge soon! I’d love to get the last chapter of driving in your car ready to share by the end of January. And there’s a secret [redacted] au I’m co-authoring with a very special friend that I would absolutely love to write in the new year!

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Just that I love this community so much. I’ve made so many incredible friendships because of this show, and I’m so grateful to be a part of this little corner of the internet. I never shared my writing publicly before finding the steddie community, and I’ve been really overwhelmed and delighted by the response to my writing and art (especially to be nominated to do something like this!! Truly an honor!). I was, at best, a casual Stranger Things fan before season 4. I wasn’t even going to watch it when it came out. But then I saw all the gorgeous fanart and gifs, and started reading headcanons, and had to check it out. I’m so so glad that I did, my life has changed so much for the better.

Thank you to our author, @kkpwnall, and our nominator! See more of @kkpwnall's work featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer's Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[kkpwnall]

if it wasn’t for bad luck i wouldn’t have luck at all

part one | rated t | 1270 words | cw: parental death

all my thanks and love to my beloved @fragilecapric0rnn for beta-reading 💜 you're a rockstar and your feedback was so so helpful

Eddie was born under a bad sign. That’s what his momma always used to say. Friday the 13th, and in October? He never really stood a chance and neither did anyone else he got close to. He was like a black cat walking across their path. 

[ keep reading below, or read on ao3 ]

His momma was first, of course. Cursed by the fate of Eddie’s birth from the very beginning. And if he hadn’t dawdled on the way home from school that day, if he had gone straight home just like he’d promised, if he hadn’t stopped to pick a bouquet of ditch weed wildflowers for her and got distracted by caterpillars and rollie-pollies— Well, maybe he would’ve been able to tell the 911 operator she was still breathing when he found her.

His daddy was next, not much long after. Eddie worshiped him like a hero in one of his fantasy stories, the charming, devil-may-care, down on his luck protagonist who stole from the rich and gave to the needy. But the first time Floyd brought him out on a real job, just the two of them, when all Eddie had to do was hot wire the getaway car after he heard the signal (three hoots like a barn owl), Eddie panicked. Did he say barn owl or barred owl? Was that two hoots or three? Why did the wires all look the same in the dark?

When the police cars painted him in their flashing red and blue lights, he dropped the wire cutters and ran. Floyd went down in a hail of bullets behind the car Eddie had been trying to steal, and Wayne got his own life sentence when the State dropped Eddie on his doorstep.

Uncle Wayne got the worst of it, obviously. Working himself to the bone, nights and weekends, to put Eddie through school. Not to mention senior year for a second and third goddamn time.

It was too late by the time young Eddie figured it out. By the time he decided to keep everyone at arm’s length.

It’s safer that way, for everyone.

Chrissy was just the latest in a long line. And he’d only lowered his guard an inch, a millimeter, when he saw someone just as lonely and desperate for a friend. He’d only barely started to let himself have an inkling of what an actual friendship with her might be like when—

This is exactly why Eddie doesn’t have friends. He has minions. He has little lost sheepies, he has twerps and shrimps. And that’s it. That’s enough. It has to be enough.

But all that changes the day he dies.

Or maybe it’s the day he finally wakes up. His new birthday, welcomed to the world once again in a cold, bright, sterile hospital room.

And really, the way he sees it, it’s all Henderson’s fault.

The little shit wanders in every day at visiting hours and makes himself right at home. He props his cast up on Eddie’s bed, and steals the remote to change the channel on the ancient, minuscule tv over to cartoons, and then he just… camps out! All day!

The kid will not leave him alone, no matter how cold a shoulder Eddie tries to give him. He even broke down and explained everything to him. How he’s bad luck, he’s bad news. And people who get too close to him end up dead.

But maybe the painkillers they’ve got him on scrambled his brain as bad as the bats scrambled his guts, because Dustin steamrolls right over him.

“If curses were real, which they aren’t,” he posits in his professor voice, “Your dumb curse can’t try to kill me again. It already took a shot and it missed, and the worst I got was a busted ankle.”

Eddie opens his mouth to tell Dustin that’s not how curses work but—

“And what was its goal anyway? To get you alone and friendless, dead in a ditch? Well then, mission accomplished!”

Which is… weirdly comforting when he puts it like that.

Dustin brings with him a rotating cast of the rest of the fellowship. Eddie finally gets to meet Baby Byers and finds out he’s already been recruited to Hellfire before Eddie can even say hello.

More often than not, Steve tags along too since he’s already ferrying them all between the hospital and home. Usually after he’s spent some time with Red and the other kids in her room, he’ll drop by. To check on Dustin of course.

It’s not because he likes Eddie. Don’t be ridiculous. He doesn’t even know him.

All that… before… it was just some harmless flirting to keep himself from completely losing it while he was on the run from homicidal bible-thumpers. And Steve was just humoring him.

So he hides behind stupid flirtatious remarks, easy to brush off when it’s always undercut with sly winks and salacious expressions. Enough to keep everything surface level. Keep him at arms length.

It doesn’t matter that his eyes still seem to linger on Eddie, even when he hasn’t said anything for a while. Or that he brings Eddie extra pudding cups from the cafeteria. It doesn’t mean anything when he stands in the doorway trying to finish one last story or joke, until the kids almost literally have to drag him out when visiting hours are over.

Because it turns out Steve is an incorrigible gossip. And Eddie’s not about to be the one to corrige him. Not when he brings an extra dr. pepper for Eddie every time he stops by the vending machine for a coke and gleefully tells Eddie which of the doctors, nurses, and shady government agents are sleeping together.

A can of coke he taps on the lid with a peculiar rhythm before he cracks it, every time.

“What’s up with that?” Eddie finally has to ask one day, when it’s just the two of them and the Price is Right.

Steve hums this confused little sound at him, tilting his head with furrowed brows as he takes the first sip.

Eddie repeats the pattern, tapping it out on his own can.

Steve blinks a few times, first at Eddie, then at the can in his hand.

“I didn’t even realize I did that,” he huffs out a laugh. “It’s uh… something my grandpa taught me when I was a kid. Y’know just for luck.”

The blood in Eddie’s veins freezes and he’s stuck like that for a painfully long moment. Propped up against the lumpy hospital pillows with his mouth half open, staring at Steve.

“For luck.” he says flatly.

“Yeah, so the fizz doesn’t explode when you open it.”

“And has that ever happened to you?” Aiming for flirty, aiming for scathing, aiming for anything that’s not desperation.

“Well no,” Steve says with an easy shrug and a conspiratorial smile, “that’s why it’s lucky. It’s like picking up a coin that’s face-down on the sidewalk.”

“Uh, I’m pretty sure it’s face-up, darlin,” Eddie says coyly, like every alarm bell in his head isn’t ringing a deafening cacophony.

“Nah see, you gotta leave those ones for someone who really needs the luck.”

“But then you get the bad luck.”

“Nah, doesn’t work that way,” Steve says, and fucking winks at him.

Eddie wants to shake him. What is wrong with him? He’s got it all backwards and it’s dangerous. How is he walking around like this?

Whatever, it’s not his problem. Steve can do whatever Steve wants. Eddie doesn’t need to protect him from himself. It’s not like they’re friends. And really, that’s the best way to protect him.

[ part two ]

[ also on ao3 ]

[devondespresso]

💟 WIP Wednesday!!! 💟

dividers by the lovely @/saradika-graphics

tagged by the beloved @marvel-ous-m !! (and probably a handful of other people over the weeks, thank you guys so much for tagging me, im sorry the mentions got lost in my notifs)

💟 Rules:

Post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days.

After you’ve posted, people can send you asks with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event or gift fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

💟 Files:

shock of the century, i actually have two different chaptered wips at once!!

The Steve Henderson AU

hoes in the tunnels (a gay metaphor)(not really a metaphor actually)

💟Snippet from "hoes in the tunnels" 💟

Big guy nodded like it was nothing out of the ordinary and knelt down to grab things he apparently dropped, setting his bat– holy shit, his bat with fucking nails in it– Eddie was two seconds away from nails in his skull–

“Does he really have to come with us too?” The black-haired kid groaned, and Eddie looked at each of the kids, but nobody looked uneasy at the fucking murder weapon their babysitter had.

“No one's going anywhere alone,” Big guy droned like he was tired of repeating himself, “So yes, he has to.”

“Yeah, uh, and I’m not exactly jumping at the chance to say ‘no’ to a guy with nails hammered into a baseball bat.” Eddie laughed, eyes glued to big guy’s bat.

Big guy glanced at him weird, and he realized too late that his face was probably doing that thing. Where he smiled too wide and his eyes looked way too intense for what was going on.

“You can relax, Munson, it’s not for you.”

💟Tags!

If you made it this far and want to do it, consider this your tag! hell, I'll edit the post to add you if you want!!

also (no pressure): @carolperkinsexgirlfriend @pearynice @fag4dykestobin @soaringornithopter @imfinereallyy

@eriquin @stellarspecter @lingeringmirth @acasualcrossfade @klausinamarink

@findafight @gleek4twd @hbyrde36 @vegasol @momotonescreaming @withacapitalp

[spicysix]

event masterlist

can you guys believe it's been a whole year since we've met Eddie Munson?! since I've fallen head over heals for that man? since i've been reading a different ST fanfic every night before bed? since i've flipped this blog Upside Down (heh) and made this little TV show my entire personality?

and since then i've done a lot! i went back into writing fanfics after 5 years of nothing, first of all. and i've met and befriended so many special people, and i've admired so many special fanworks, and we all bonded over some children and their gaggle of babysitters.

and you saw my little blog dedicated to our little blorbos and decided to stay here ♡

so because of all that, i'm kickstarting a double (and my first one ever) celebration! pop one of those below into my inbox and get me working!

・celebration begins May 27 and ends May 31 ・meaning you can send requests until the end date, but i'm a bit slow so it can take me longer than that to answer everything. be patient, please ♡ ・you can send in as many requests as you want, just please send different emojis requests in different asks! ・you don't need to be following me to participate (but if you liked it, consider following anyway? let's be friends!) ・minors and billy stans DNI

🦇 eddie's pet demobat - send me this emoji + a fic or fanwork you'd like to show some love to! make the authors/artists happy and give us readers and enjoyers something to appreciate. you can also rec your own work of course! ♡

🎸 eddie's warlock - send me this emoji + a number from 1 to 11 and i'll post a promotional piece or a snippet from a chapter of my biggest WIP: it feels like i'm going home - a eddie X reader roadtrip fic! the numbers can only be asked once each, so be fast and choose wisely!

📖 robin's russian dictionary - send me this emoji + a word, song, prompt or scenario + a character or ship and i'll write you a ficlet! ↳ here's some prompt lists to give you some ideas if you need! ↳ check out my guidelines to see who i write for ↳ if you want you can specify if you want fem! or gn! reader

🏏 steve's baseball bat - send me this emoji + a character, ship (specify if you want romantic or platonic) or gang and i'll share my favorite headcanons. or, send me the emoji + your favorite headcanons!

📸 jonathan's camera - send me this emoji + an episode (from any season) and i'll share my favorite scene. or, send me the emoji + your favorite scenes and let's talk about them!

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[deceptive-daydreams]

ty @bettyfrommars for the tag on this fun little game 🥹 it actually had me go back and read a few pieces of my beloved smoke signals and I’m falling in love with my babies all over again. Makes me wanna keep writing since I haven’t for a while❤️

choose an excerpt from one of your posted fics, 600 words or less, that will make people curious for more. Share it with the title of your fic and little to no context.

Smoke Signals (Ch. 7)

Like magic, Eddie appears as you reach the top of the stairs, leaning against one of the doors as he weakly knocks, his forehead pressed to the wood.  He was gorgeous, the perfect image of an 80’s rockstar gone 90’s.  His back was nearly on display, shoulders all broad and waist lean.  You could make out bat wings tattooed symmetrically on his shoulder blades and something along his ribs.  The sight flustered you but you were here for one purpose and that was to retrieve him and get him back to Donnie so she or someone else could keep an eye on him.

“Dude, ‘urry up!”  He whines into the door,  pounding on it with more force.  “Hafta piss ‘n maybe throw u—up.”  He hiccups.

You want to giggle but quickly remember how miserable that feeling is, your stomach rejecting you and releasing its contents in protest of the alcohol you continue to bombard it with.  You realize that no light pours out from underneath the door which meant the bathroom had to be available.

“Eddie, I don’t think anyone’s in there.”  You offer, slowly walking up behind him.  

“Pfft, it’s locked.”  He scoffs, hitting his forehead against the wood with a thump.

When you reach your hand toward the handle and twist the door open, he gasps, nearly falling head first into the bathroom.  It wasn’t thought through, opening a door with a grown man leaning his full weight onto it.  Luckily, he catches himself, hands gripping the countertop as he sways.

“Shit, I’m sorry.”  You hiss, voice tinged with regret.

“‘S okay.”  He mumbles, pulling his zipper down.

“Oh!”  Covering your eyes, you shut the door.

“Wait, wait, wait!”

“Eddie, I am not standing in there with you while you pee!”  You yell through the door.

“God.”  He groans, a stream following.  “Just—I know!”

“I’ll stand right here and make sure you don’t fall and hit your head, okay?”  You bargain.

“Okay.”

After several seconds, you don’t hear any movement, worry kicking in once again.  He couldn’t have hit his head, you would’ve heard it.  What if he passed out but didn’t hit anything?  It was pathetic, the way worry would grow inside you solely for him.  Just when you begin a countdown to burst through the door to check on him, you can hear the unmistakable sound of him puking his guts out.  Now you wonder if you should go in anyway and hold his hair back.  

Dry heaving is heard through the door, the awful sound the only thing you can focus on.  You can’t take it anymore.  You can only hope he remembered to zip his pants back up in his drunken state.  Opening the door, you reveal Eddie hunched over the toilet, his hair draped over his shoulders, clearly in his way.  You rush to his side, dropping your heels and his jacket in the process and collecting his curls in your hands, pulling them back as he breathes heavily, drool hanging from his mouth.  His eyes are wet and his hands are shaky as they grip the toilet seat.  You feel as if he should be vomiting in your lap for payback for puking on him that one night.  

“Ah shit.”  He complains, shaking his head.  “Round two, get o—out”.  He gags.

Throw up was the embodiment of the most disgusting thing you could ever think of, smell and everything but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care at this moment.  Even with his clammy skin and pukey lips.

[jovialjuggernaut-draws]

I posted 741 times in 2022

493 posts created (67%)

248 posts reblogged (33%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@jovialjuggernaut-draws

@drones-art

@the-alice-of-hearts

@jovialjuggernaut

@forevercloudnine

I tagged 507 of my posts in 2022

Only 32% of my posts had no tags

#riddlebat - 224 posts

#batriddler - 200 posts

#riddler - 189 posts

#batman - 142 posts

#bruce wayne - 110 posts

#edward nygma - 94 posts

#the riddler - 93 posts

#edward nashton - 78 posts

#the batman (2022) - 55 posts

#edward nigma - 50 posts

Longest Tag: 137 characters

#also im in a discord w lfwrites and. she said this was also sent to her so like. not really inclined to respond to a prompt sent en masse

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Literally ran to ur blog as soon as I could pick my brain back off the theater floor to post comprehensibly what r ur thoughts I am so AAAAAA

AAAAAAAAAAAA

oh my god no thoughts im screaming

holy shit

1) eddie was SO horny. the whole time. he kept up a boner in every fucking scene. that man was the horniest hes ever been. i think he came in his pants when he got cuffed. AND THEN STARED BRUCE IN THE EYE AFTER sticky pants and theres his fucking Beloved watching him hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

2) the arkham breakdown.......... he fully believed bruce would fall in love with him then and there........... this really was the same eddie as batman forever he had the same exact pair of glasses and he was just as convinced one conversation would drop that man to one knee ring in hand

hed practiced that speech so many times but never saw past his heart eyes BRUCE you could have done something there!!! YES hes unhinged but now hes unhinged AND has your voice replaying eternally in his head digging at him hhhhhhhhhh god i love bruce making these men worse

3) Batmobile.... Sexy.

4) Bat boots...... Sexy.

5) Selina owns no good wigs and thats so funny. shes wearing the 5 dollarest wigs she could find

6) bruce punching gordo. bruce and gordo besties. this was a buddy cop comedy.

7) bruces shirtless scene being his fucking conspiracy board scene.................... if eddie had seen THAT fucking CHRIST heda been all over him like jam on bread i tell u hwat

tangentially bruce and eddie the same man. stalkers. creeps. standing there silently. watching waiting etc. love when theyre similar makes me fuzzy inside

the fact that bruce just instantly guesses the right thing to find the next clue so many times he and eddie think EXACTLY the same way theyre on SUCH a wavelength!!! the same fucking wavelength!!!!

anyway my brains fucking scattered and i need time to process and im so fucking hhhhhhhhhhgghh

i gotta write i gotta draw i gotta cosplay eddie in his lil arkham outfit w his shitty collar i need to learn to sing ave maria i love that man with my whole heart and soul i cant believe i wasnt kicked out of the theater i got so many compliments on my eddie jacket

296 notes - Posted March 5, 2022

#4

WHO ELSE LOSING THEIR MINDS TONIGHT

328 notes - Posted October 12, 2022

#3

himmmmmmmmmm

397 notes - Posted March 6, 2022

#2

today.... i am thinking about....

bruce taking the rats from eddies apartment home bc theres no one to take care of them w eddie in arkham and he looks up absolute mountains of rat care info and gets them an absolutely MASSIVE enclosure, fucking floor to ceiling, 5-6 levels, different stairs and platforms etc to get to each level, different chew toys on every level, and theyre fat and happy and he sometimes w take one out to sit on his shoulder and nibble at his hair when he needs a Rubber Duck for a case

and maybe also he goes to visit eddie in arkham once in a while and updates him abt how the rats r doing and its just that little connection between them like hes given the rats a better life as a proxy for edward and

anyway. bruces new pet rats.

601 notes - Posted March 15, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I find your power to rewrite history (create random bondage edits that get so high on google images that multiple people believe the Riddler just regularly wears rope under his clothes) to be awe-inspiring, and everyone should follow you if only to hear the next words of a prophet. What is the new fanon, wise one?

bruce wayne trans

835 notes - Posted August 5, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[love-toxin]

not sure if ur a monsterfucker but so feel free to ignore this /gen but..........freaky bat hybrid eddie.goes into heat.breeding u. mmmmmmmmmm. Yummy

im in a monsterfucker mood rn ehe (this is mostly full bat eddie so strap in)

(cw: teratophilia, fem reader, breeding)

freaky bat hybrid eddie.....he's all gross and scary and drooly but he's still your eddie!

everybody thinks you're mental for insisting he must still be alive, poor, sweet angel's just gone crazy after losing your sweetheart. the party feels for you and the town finds you abhorrent for missing and yearning over the psycho killer that once plagued Hawkins, he might've been your boyfriend but he was a monster. how they would clutch their pearls if they ever found out that you managed to find a gate back to the upside down, and you've been venturing back into certain death just to look for your beloved unbeknownst to even your close friends. and when you finally find him, you're so glad to see him when you realize it's actually him--and eddie, oh, he's so glad to see you.

each time you come through, he's waiting for you in your spot. the little den that he protects when you're back in your own world so it can be safe for your arrival, he makes a nest out of whatever he can find so it's comfy for you. and when you duck inside he croaks your name in a screechy, scratchy voice, cries of "angel, my angel, angel" and flapping his wings so you know for sure that it's him, even though he's bigger than all the other bats and he towers over you, his wings all littered with scars. you can't kiss anymore but you can nuzzle his head, paying little mind to how he drools all over your hand and your arm and everywhere else. you'll be much dirtier when you're done anyways.

especially when he's in heat. who knows what triggers it, but when it's that time all you can do is try to get your clothes off quickly, but it's never quick enough. eddie's got those wings draped over you and his claws dug into your hands to pin you, his tail whipping round to strike at your clothes and tear them off your body. that same appendage slithers between your legs and moves with you as you tremble, sliding pseudo-gently between your lips and prodding your clit to get you all wet and ready for him, while eddie screeches above you and humps the air behind you viciously to help unsheathe his cock from its confines. you never really get to see it, but feeling it is just as good--all curved and intertwined with firm, tentacle-like appendages that form a tapered tip and pulse down the whole length, like his cock itself is alive. eddie aligns himself and keeps his tail close to your body, lets it slowly curl around your throat as he spreads your pussy out on something that it was never made to take and spears you with it in one long, hard thrust, one that would've shoved you forward on to your chest if he wasn't holding you up by your neck. each pump is just as vicious, violent, the urge to breed leaking out into his inhuman growls and his claws biting into the flesh of your hands but you don't care, you don't give a damn because this is all you have of eddie and you'll be damned if you let him go twice. despite the pinch and twinge of pain as he forces himself against your womb and gradually manages to fuck the tip inside that soft wall of your cervix, the pain that blinds you as he yanks your head back to look at him and drools into your mouth, you refuse to say "no" or "stop" because you love him so much. even if the world itself hates him, you'll never give him up, and in the deepest reaches of his mind he knows that.

which is exactly why he breeds you so aggressively, fucks you within an inch of your life, plows your poor, abused little cunt until you're cumming through the pain and then because of it. because he wants a piece of himself inside you forever, and maybe filling you with cum or spit or drawing blood will infect you like it did him, turn you into whatever he is so you can finally be together again like you were before. his instincts drive him to choke the air out of your lungs even harder and leave bruises around your neck, and beat your walls so hard with his cock that you feel like he's splitting you apart, cause maybe if he drives you to the edge of death you might turn, too. but even if it doesn't, he still leaves you with something of his when he starts shrieking and flapping his wings against your sides, rasping out those wispy cries of your name as he creams every inch of your insides and watches that blissed-out smile creep across your face. even when you can barely breathe and feel like you're teetering on the brink, feeling him blow his load inside you still makes you shudder with pleasure and moan in ecstasy just like it did when he was human.

and while he's coming down and anticipating another high, he doesn't even unhook himself from you, doesn't bother tugging the tip out of your womb in a rather painful maneuver after it's swollen up to stay lodged inside. he wants all that seed to take, so he strokes your back and your legs and your arms, all shaky from the pounding you just took, and soothes those deep bruises he left in the hopes that it comes across as apologetic as he means it. but you're so loopy and giggly from the afterglow you don't even notice, just keep wiggling your back end closer against him to try and get him deeper, to get him to start making love to you again, because this is the only bonding time you get with him now! you wanna make it count. wanna make cute little bat babies for him like you promised. and that soft little voice pleading "eddie, baby, don't stop! wan' more, wanna cum for you again!", oh, he just can't resist it. you may as well prepare to be away from Hawkins for a good, long while, because if you want him to breed you into unconsciousness....well, he can absolutely make that happen for his little angel.

[indouloureux]

i lowkey feel like eddie knows how to sew/knit. just him sewing in his own patches to his vest 🥹 so yeah, eddie sewing something and you come to him for help

seeing as eddie and i both know how to sew this makes me go hdkshsksjsksbdksbdkdbkddjhdjdjd *glitches*

with dio loud and deafening in the background, neighbors might have mistaken the situation as eddie practicing with his beloved guitar, or prancing around his room like he's in a ozzy osbourne with a bat in his mouth, or writing down his campaign for the next game. something they thought eddie would do in all his metalhead psyche.

and they'll probably think they're hallucinating when they find out the truth.

no, because eddie munson sits on his bed with his back hunched, legs cross legged and head dipped down to take a closer look of the needle and the vest in his hands. he squints, his lamp bright and above him to give himself better visibility in the dim lights of his bedroom.

he bobs his head to holy diver, humming along with ronnie dio's ululate-like singing. his tongue pokes out, curled to graze his lips as he pushes the tiny needle up through the denim and accidentally pokes himself.

"shit," he winces, hands shaking as he feels blood flow through the minuscule hole. "ow."

with the loud music, he doesn't hear the door opening from outside and your frantic footsteps. so it's no surprise that he yells in fear when the door suddenly slams open to see your disheveled state — hair windblown from your fast biking, chest heaving heavily from the spent energy as your heart beats viciously against your ribcage.

"sweetheart," he reaches over to lower the boombox, his own heart calming down as you bend over and place your hand on your knees, wheezing as if you'd just drowned. "what are you doing here?"

"i-" you inhale, eyebrows furrowed and top lip curled. you raise your palm at him, as if to indicate that you need a second before you straighten your back and wipe the sweat off your forehead. "i- my shirt. i ripped my shirt yesterday. and- and you're like the only person i know who can sew other than my mom but she's not here so i came," you huff. "to you. my lovely boyfriend."

eddie stands up from his bed, sticking the needle to place it on some random spot as he approaches you. he takes your wet face into his hands and kisses your forehead, the salty sweat covering his lips. "get changed first babe,"

you do, with the offer of his bauhaus shirt that's a little bit bigger than you, almost like a short dress. and while eddie throws your sweaty shirt aside, you go back out to your bike where you forgot your shirt in the basket, and swiftly return to his bedroom where eddie patiently waits.

"oh, i remember that," he grins. "new store in starcourt just opened. i bought you that."

"yeah," you unfold the shirt, seeing a rip at the end. "sorry i accidentally ripped it. i almost cried."

"no need to cry," when he takes the shirt from your hands, you crawl to the bed and kneel behind him. "i can always fix your clothes, sweets."

you kiss the top of his head before you gather his hair into your hands, eddie pulling out a thread and easily slips it through the eye of the needle before he starts stitching. he winces when you tug hard on his hair, but it takes less than twenty seconds to put his hair into a loose bun before you're wrapping your arms around his neck with your hands hovering over his chest, picking at his red pick as eddie continues what he's doing.

"how'd you rip this anyway?" he asks, pulling his arm up to lock the thread.

"was rushing to get yoo-hoo at melvald's because they just restocked. and i know how much you've been crying about it—"

"—i wasn't crying about it—"

"—and so i had to go as soon as i could because somehow people are so cuckoo for yoo-hoo," you jest to him, resting your chin on the tuff of his curls. "but my shirt got caught by our neighbor's pointy fence and i ripped it,"

"'d you get it though?" his head lolls back so your nose bumps his, needle and shirt tight in his ringless hands. "the yoo-hoo?"

"unfortunately not yet," you kiss the tip of his nose, brushing his bangs away and eddie smiles, twirling your fingers at the loose strands of his bun. "i'll buy you one after though."

he puckers his lips until he can reach yours. eddie goes back to sewing. "that's awesome,"

and when he's done, eddie turns around and proudly shows you what he's achieved. you take the shirt gently, thumbs rubbing the soft fabric and over the stitch that's barely seen. you gawp at him. "thank you baby,"

"no problem," he leans down to kiss your forehead. "now you, boo, should come get yoo-hoo with me."

you take his fingers into your hands, seeing the way there's tiny little blotches of blood over the pads of his calloused skin. you kiss his bruised fingers, taking note the way his blush reaches his cheeks to the tip of his ears, before he laces his hands with yours and drags you away.

reblogs and feedback are appreciated <3

[acourtofsnakes]

Darkness At The Heart Of My Love, Chapter 2 | Kas!Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Summary: Eddie struggles with a new discovery, torn between the urges of the heart, and the urges of his body.

Warnings: 18+ for blood, mild gore/animal death, feelings of hopelessness, and desperation, swearing, biting, fangs, anxiety, lil bit of blood drinking, female reader, possible season 5 theory spoilers? Kissing, make-outs - let me know if i forgot anything!!

Words: 13k+ - she's a long one

Taglist: @greeneyedblondie44 @mamacitapascal @mypedrom @undiscovered-misunderstood @kaylee-krystal @theshireisburning-so-mordoritis @queenofthefaceless @gallowsjoker @kirsteng42 @rosiefridayrogersunday @salome-c @amywritesthings @meganlpie @sgt-morgan @starryeyedstories @pumpkin-stars

Playlist | Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Chapter song: Darkness At The Heart Of My Love - Ghost

*~”When the summer dies

Severing the ties

I'm with you always, always”~*

Eddie Munson was no stranger to pain.

It had been a companion since he was a child, when his father’s fists would rain down on him, punctuated by vile words that wormed under his skin and stayed hooked in the back of his mind forever.

He knew many kinds of pain.

The verbal pain from that man who was supposed to protect him, the sniggered remarks and disgusted comments by the other kids that he walked past in the hallways.

“Look at him. Eddie the freak.”

“Is it true that he has a cult? Who’d wanna follow him? Weirdos, that’s who. Maybe they’re only there for the drugs.”

There were the other kinds of physical pain, at the hands of his classmates as they cornered him after school. He’d long since given up fighting back, realising quickly if he gave in, they’d eventually get bored and leave him there. He could pick himself up, limp home and get rid of the blood before it stained his beloved jacket, and his uncle could question it.

But this was… different.

This was pain mixed with terror, mixed with longing and the petrifying realisation that this was it. The end. This wasn’t a critical hit that meant you were gone just for the campaign, this was final.

The agonising bites of those foul bats, the stench of their breath as they swarmed him… but it was okay, because he was doing his job. Right?

He was being the distraction. He was drawing them away so they wouldn’t come for you all. Just as he was meant to.

Eddie the Banished wasn’t retreating. He ran to the danger and… Was he finally a hero? He hoped he was.

He pretended not to care that he was seen as someone who ran, that it didn’t bother him but… not so deep down, he just wanted to be seen as something good for once.

Someone worth remembering.

So this pain, he could deal with. He was already starting to go numb anyway.

But then he heard footsteps.

Then he heard voices screaming his name.

Dustin’s voice.

Your voice.

He’d been too weak to be able to lift his head, his body burning like he’d been doused in kerosene, but at the same time he felt so cold. And it was agonising because he wanted to see you, to comfort you, to tell you it was okay and that he’d saved you.

And you’d promised, you’d promised you wouldn’t come back for him, that you’d get yourself safe.

But… God, he knew. He knew you wouldn’t keep it and selfishly, cruelly... He hoped you wouldn’t.

And that was the vilest thing he’d ever thought, but Eddie was selfish when it came to you. He would do anything for you, no matter the consequences and he didn’t want to leave this world without you at his side. He didn’t want to leave you alone, like he always had been.

Then you were suddenly at his side, your hands frantically pushing at his clothes, his skin, icy cold fingers pushing at his neck, and he heard your broken sob when his heart flickered only weakly in response.

The blurriness cleared from his vision, granting him the sight of your beautiful, precious face twisted on terror and agony.

Your eyes held the vicious truth that not everyone was making it out of here.

That he’d broken his promise to never leave your side and to always be there to make you smile. 

And then he was fucking terrified, and it hurt like nothing else he’d ever felt before.

Eddie Munson was going to break his promise and tear your heart out in the process.

He was hurting you, and he swore he would never do that. Never be his father, never be like those vile exes you’d been with.

And here he was, fucking up again.

Not to mention how the tears on your face sharpened his mind with a sickening clarity that left his rasping lungs even more breathless - he was going to die.

He was going to die and he didn’t want to.

Maybe he had before, maybe there was a time where this would have been a welcome reprieve, an escape from pretending nothing got to him but then he’d met you and that had all changed.

Now Eddie wanted that future he’d never thought he’d get. He wanted late night movie marathons and scaring each other with Ghostface masks.

He wanted sleepy mornings where neither of you wanted to get out of bed and instead stayed there all day.

He wanted to get down on one knee, propose with a ring he couldn’t afford but you deserved, and he wanted to make you happy.

He wanted to be happy.

He wanted to learn you, more than he already knew, the little quirks you’d develop, and he’d adore with every year that went by.

Eddie wanted a future with you, the one person he loved more than anything in this planet, in this universe… and he wasn’t going to get it.

He was going to leave you, alone, scared, grieving… And he wasn’t going to be there to comfort you. 

And that hurt more than his torn flesh, his broken bones and the promises bleeding out of his body, through your fingers and onto dusty floor. 

“Don’t you dare leave me, Eddie. I won’t let you.” Your hands clung to him, cradling his head in your arms as Dustin’s face swam into view on his other side, supporting his body too.

He wouldn’t get to tell you every day how much he loved you and watch your eyes soften, that soft, beautiful colour rise on your cheeks like it was the first time he uttered those words even though it was more like the millionth. 

Yet the thought of you mourning him, of plunging into darkness and being swallowed whole… Fuck, that hurt more than the gouges on his body, the blood and life seeping out of him. You burned so brightly, so fiercely and he couldn’t bear the idea of that light going out.

He wanted you to be happy. And he wouldn’t be able to give you that gift himself, but he wanted it for you all the same.

Eddie tried to lift a hand to your face, but he couldn’t seem to get his limbs to work. They wouldn’t respond, just numb fire attached to his body. But somehow, he could reach your hand, through sheer force of will he moved his own a few inches across his torso - it petrified him that the blood helped that action, “Don’t lose yourself for me, sweetheart. Don’t throw your life away for me. Remember that I love you, fuck, I love you so much and I won’t ever forget any of this, from the moment I met you and you made me realise the real world wasn’t so shitty. Remember that, and promise me that you’ll try and be happy, that you’ll live all those dreams we talked about.”

He watched as the realisation bloomed in your eyes, the knowledge that out of the three of you here, only two would make it back alive. Then he watched as sheer stubbornness and refusal tightened your features, tears flooding your skin, “Eddie…” You parted your lips, the lips he’d kissed and caressed and dreamt about so many times.

He blinked rapidly, tears spilling from his own eyes and doing nothing to help the blurriness rapidly filling his vision, the shadowy darkness lingering at the edges. He could feel every struggling beat of his heart, like a ticking countdown in his chest.

But he didn’t want to scare you, not any more than you already were, so he merely gripped your hand as tight as he possibly could, knowing he was coating your fingers in blood, but this was important. He had to know you’d be okay eventually, that you’d find happiness somewhere at least. “Please, sweetheart…”

The devastation shattered over your face, and he saw the cracks beginning to form already, almost swore he heard your heart break as his own slowed to a near crawl, “Okay, I promise.” A sob broke your throat, fresh tears flossing your cheeks and you gripped him tighter to your body, Dustin pressed close to your side to help support him.

He turned his gaze to Dustin now, the boys’ wild curls a blurring mass against the dark sky, “I love you, man.” The kid had to know that, how much he meant to Eddie, the fact he was the only other person, aside from you, who saw him as… Eddie. Not the Freak. Not the weirdo, or the murderer. Eddie.

Dustin sobbed too, his face all torn up in grief, eyes shining with the force of his tears, and he tried a smile, “I love you too.” His boyish face seemed so young, so lost and it killed Eddie to see him like that, to know he was the reason why.

Eddie looked between his eyes, well, where he thought Dustin’s eyes were. “You gotta take care of all those lost sheep, okay? They need you now.” He nodded once to Dustin… or maybe he just thought he did. He couldn’t really feel his body anymore.

When Dustin nodded quickly in response, too overcome to speak, Eddie finally looked back at you. And Eddie didn’t believe in angels, but the second his eyes landed on you, the blurriness cleared. The scarlet lightning merely framed you like a halo, the blood and dirt on your face merely marking you as his warrior, his fierce soulmate who would - and had - literally fought through Hell to get to the people she loved.

Even the tears streaming from his eyes couldn’t disturb the clarity of you, and it was a sight that bought him peace.

He summoned one final ounce of strength, one final strong pulse of his heart to push his guitar pick into your hand, curling your bloody fingers around it, “Take care of my sweetheart, sweetheart. She’s yours now. I love you, more than anything. Thank you for making me feel like a hero. Your hero.” He gave you one final smile, eyes locked on yours before someone cut that cord and darkness plunged down. His body fell through time and space, dragging his consciousness down too and his hand slipped from yours. That manic, vibrant energy he crackled with had finally gone out.

Eddie Munson was gone.

*~”Will you walk the line?

My path serpentine

Remember always

That love is all you need

Tell me who you wanna be

And I will set you free”~*

Eddie Munson was gone… Except that then he wasn’t.

At least he didn’t think he was.

Because the last thing he expected when the world faded to black, was to wake up in the Upside Down, kneeling in a pool of blood that was rapidly growing with every second.

Except that it wasn’t his blood.

No, it was the thick, black blood of the bat squealing in his hands, it’s dying cries getting weaker and weaker by the second as Eddie’s fangs drained the life from him, like some sick reversal of what had previously happened.

Wait, fangs?!

He dropped the bat, scrambling backwards in the dirt and his stomach roiled, raging like a storm and then he was heaving, pints of that tainted blood spilling from his lips as his mind rejected what his body craved.

Panic flooded every sense, raging loud in his ears, ears which he was certain could hear the squelching ripple of vines far away, permeating his nose with the rotten stench of the place and the even more pungent smell of the bat.

He could feel thick blood coating his hands, ducking his head to look but the world swirled under and over him, that simple movement sending shockwaves through his head, and he collapsed sideways without being able to stop it.

Everything was dialled up to a million, the dim light hammering into his eyes, too many sounds, like his own breathing and his own heart too loud in his ears. He clutched his head, smearing blood all over himself but he didn’t care, couldn’t care because he had no idea what was happening to him.

He was dead. He was supposed to be gone. So how was he back?

Did he seriously manage to fuck up again? He couldn’t even do this right?

It took Eddie a moment to realise the fresh heat on his cheeks came from the tears streaming from his eyes, relentless as he curled into a tighter balm despite the bone deep ache in every part of his body.

His stomach hurt, and his legs… God, his legs were in pure agony.

And his throat, it felt like someone had doused it in kerosene and lit a match. It burned, feeling drier than that time he’d gotten way too high, fallen asleep without drinking anything, and woke up with his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.

But you’d been there, emerging from where Wayne had let you in with the biggest glass of water, painkillers and the Lord of The Rings to read to him whilst you nursed him back to health, your hand weaving through his curls and gently rubbing away the headache.

You always took care, even when you were hungover yourself. You’d just curl up together until you felt human enough to find food.

A different kind of pain splintered his chest this time as he remembered your face, how utterly broken you’d looked the last time he’d been coherent. How broken.

He’d done that to you. Made you hurt like that, breaking the promise he made when you first got together.

Guilt plunged through the fear and panic in his mind, choking him and turning the iron taste of blood into something metallic, something horrible.

He whimpered, curling in deeper on himself and he bit at his lower lip, a habit he’d always adopted to bring himself out of bad memories, the pain clearing his mind.

Except where he was usually met with the blunt drag of his teeth, he was now met with a sharp sting and blood. His blood this time.

Impossible… right?

Eddie lifted a shaking hand from his head, slowly bringing it to his mouth and he hesitated for a second, before gently probing his teeth with his thumb.

Yep.

There they were.

Fangs.

Fucking fangs.

What in the Jesus H Christ was going on? He was a vampire? Vampires didn’t exist. Vampires were a fairy-tale, mixed in with horror films and D&D, they didn’t appear in real life.

Eddie blinked a few times, staring unseeingly at the sideways wasteland around him, continually prodding his teeth with his thumb, trying to make sense of this change, this perversion of himself.

Because, despite the utter wrongness of this whole thing, that voice in the back of his head was challenging him.

Why couldn’t they be real?

Vecna was real for God’s sake. The Upside Down was a whole ugly thing, there were vampire bats, so why couldn’t there be actual vampires?

And of course it would happen to him.

Eddie laughed coldly, his throat wrecked and dry, those tears falling harder at the bitter irony of it all. As if he weren’t a freak enough already. Now he had to go and become a vampire.

He couldn’t even die right.

What the fuck was he supposed to do now?

He answered that for himself, merely curling up tighter into a ball and letting the barrage of thoughts and emotion wash over him, too tired and too sick of himself to even get up.

So he didn’t.

~

It was thirst that eventually drove Eddie to his feet days later. At least he thought it might have been days. It could have been hours. He really didn’t know… Or care.

Like he was at the mercy of a puppet masters hands, he was dragged out of his defensive position, body screaming in agony, and he began stumbling through the ruined version of home, driven by the horrendous searing burn in his throat.

He didn’t want to do this.

He didn’t want to have to sink his fangs into another living things body and drain it dry. The whole concept of it was just so fucked up, so wrong and he still couldn’t wrap his head around it.

But that was a train of thought he couldn’t go down, because if he did, he would end up on the floor again.

Or driving a stake through his heart. If that even worked.

Eddie shook his head, his curls all tangled and matted with blood and who knows what else. He wrapped his arms around himself, as tight as he could as he wandered into the main part of town, the buildings still just as desolate and terrifying as always.

In a way, he supposed it was ironic that he had been banished to the fucked-up, alternate dimension of his own home. Away from his friends, from his uncle, from the girl he loved more than anything…

He really had tried, to change the way people thought about him. To help them see that he wasn’t this scary, rough metalhead with a drug addiction that ran a cult.

Sure, he was never going to change the rumour-mill of a high school in a small town but his whole life, he’d just wanted friends. Friends who loved him, who appreciated his quirks and his interests and accepted him for every part of himself, even the fucked-up bits. And he’d finally got that. He had a group of friends that loved him.

And this place, that monster had taken it from him once again.

Suddenly, there was a shift in the air. A change in the stale atmosphere he could breathe in all too easily now. He wasn’t sure how to describe the change, just that there was a sudden heat in the air, a heady aroma of something that fuelled the ache in his throat and made his teeth prickle.

And Eddie might have been a newly fledged bloodsucker, but even he knew what that meant.

Blood. There was fresh blood somewhere in this dead wasteland.

But that should be impossible. There shouldn’t be any fresh blood in the Upside Down.

Some kind of instinct took over, and his feet were carrying him further down the street, silently and smooth, far more evenly paced than he usually walked. He blended in with the shadows, slinking through them like a phantom, around corners and houses that he was so familiar with despite the fact they were dark reflection of above, until he heard footsteps crunching on gravel.

The dead air was suddenly filled with the soft scent of apple and cedarwood, warm and comforting.

A scent he didn’t realise he was that so familiar with until now, one that reminded him of funfairs and summer nights.

A flash of carefully styled brunette hair that glinted gold beneath the red lightning, a slightly dirty yellow sweater which shone like a small beacon in the dark, faded jeans and familiar white trainers with red ticks.

Harrington?

Steve Harrington was in the Upside Down.

Eddie froze, hidden behind the broad trunk of an oak tree, eyes easily tracking Steve in the gloom as he carefully walked down the street, head sweeping from side to side like he was looking for someone.

Were you here…?

Hope flooded his system, battling the bloodlust for a moment and he nearly plunged headlong across the dead grass to shake Steve’s shoulders and ask if you were behind him, to see you emerging from some corner with that determined expression that always softened whenever you looked at him.

Eddie took a step out of the tree, his feet crunching on the bracken and sounding way too loud in the graveyard of the town.

Steve’s head snapped in Eddie’s direction, hand flexing around the beloved bat grasped at his side and he raised it slightly, defensively. “Who’s there?” His voice was hard and unwavering, as always when facing danger. He might have been scared internally, but he never backed down.

Eddie had heard all about how Steve saved the kids from the Russians, the way he’d battled the Demogorgon with no hesitation, always willing to throw his own life on the line, just to save his friends.

It was something you and Steve shared. And it was something Eddie loved and admired in the pair of you.

Eddie was a single step away from stepping out of the tree, of running to his friend and near sobbing in relief that he wasn’t alone anymore, when his jaw twinged painfully, a sharp ache bursting through his skull and then he tasted blood on his lower lip.

Every sense magnified even more, trebling in strength so all he could hear was the frantic thump-thump-thump of Steve’s heart.

The barest of dry breezes shifted, like a cruel act of fate and that apple and cedarwood scent was suddenly permeated with the rich, irony scent of blood.

Steve’s blood.

It was Steve’s blood lengthening Eddie’s fangs, the beat of his heart making his throat ache for hot, fresh blood to quench it.

His friend.

He was thinking about hurting his friend, of sinking his fangs right where Steve’s heart pounded strong and sure, of swallowing mouthfuls and mouthfuls of blood. Blood that some instinct told him would taste like those summer evenings and candyfloss, like the balmy air that caressed your skin when you stepped outside.

This was Steve, and Eddie was thinking about eating him.

Disgust mingled with the hunger, the starvation, and he stumbled backwards, shrinking into the shadows as if the shroud of darkness might dampen this insane hunger.

It did little of the sort, but the distance was a good thing, and maybe he needed more of it, even if they idea pained him.

Because he knew, if he walked out there, if he explained what was happening… Steve would let him. He would let Eddie take that blood, and then he would bring him home, to you.

But if he did, he wouldn’t stop.

Meanwhile, Steve had been scanning his surroundings, evidently not spotting Eddie and he dropped the bat with a sigh. His hand shifted restless through his hair, throat bobbing on a swallow and he mumbled, “Dammit, Munson. You were supposed to be here.”

That caught Eddie’s attention, ears pricking with this new-found sensitivity, and he waited, listening.

Steve looked around one final time, fingers still reflexively tightening and loosening on the bat, “I was supposed to be able to bring you home at least, so she could say goodbye.” He shook his head, casting a final sideways glance to the darkness then he turned, seemingly beginning to head back the way he came.

As the hazy red light danced over his clothes, Eddie noticed the slight dampness to them, the water clinging to the cuffs of his jeans.

Water?

Eddie racked his brain, the memories of before still a little hazy through the bloodlust but then the synapses fired, and it clicked.

Watergate.

Obviously whatever tremors had shaken the world above hadn’t destroyed all of the gates, maybe they’d just… opened them.

Maybe there was a way out.

A way Eddie could be free of this damn place.

Steve was already moving, his mumbles carrying over to Eddie, “- shouldn’t have left you here, I should have helped her bring you home. That was a real dick move, and I’ve regretted it every day since.”

Eddie was speechless, as he slowly followed Steve at a distance, sticking to the darker areas on silent feet.

He regretted leaving Eddie here? He… thought about it?

Even with your devoted, beautiful love, he still wasn’t used to people actually caring. There was still a small part of his brain that told him he wasn’t worth saving, wasn’t a thought on people’s minds and yet… Here this was.

Steve unknowingly led him across town, back through the sparse forests where it became harder to stay hidden, and Eddie had to take to pausing behind thicker tree trunks every now and then. His words still followed him, sending a jolt through his heart each time.

Until he heard the next thing.

The thing that made every cell in his changing body grow icy cold.

“I really wish you were still here, man. I don’t know how to help her. I don’t know how to save her.” A wrecked sigh from Steve as he kicked absently at a rock, “She’s slipping out of my hands every single day, more and more and the only thing that’s going to save her is you and I can’t give that to her.”

A panic seized Eddie’s heart in its clawed grip, twisting and reminding him how useless he was down here, how pointless his promise had been.

You were struggling and you were in pain, and it was all because of him. And he didn’t know how to help you, without hurting you. Without scaring you when he explained that… That what?

That he was a vampire?

That he was just having thoughts about sinking his teeth into one of your best friends’ throats?

Eddie made a noise of disgust at himself, focusing back on Steve, swallowing any nugget of information he could, all the while fighting those urges and the dark, velvet voice in his head telling him to take a bite.

Steve stood at the edge of Lovers Lake, watching the dry, cracked bed where the water should be. “I’m losing her, Eddie. And I can’t bring her back from this. I’m sorry, man. I promised you I would help her be happy, and instead I’m losing her.” He inhaled sharply, shaking his head once more, “I’m not letting it happen. I’m not going to let her go. I promised you I’d take care of her, and I’ll do it, even if she hates me for it.” With that, Steve stalked across the parched ground with renewed purpose, pausing at the pulsating gate. He seemed to be debating whether to say something or not, despite not realising the ears that were taking this all in with shocked silence, “I miss you too. Not just for her, or Dustin… But for me.” Steve swallowed once, and then he was gone, back through Watergate and back through to the world above.

Eddie gave him about fifteen minutes, the longest fifteen minutes of his life before moving to the gate quicker than he intended. Everything turned into a blur around him, like these instincts sensed his urgency to get home, to save you, to pull you back from the darkness he had caused.

He stumbled over his feet a little as the blood rushed back into his head, but he wasted no time in somewhat ungracefully diving through the gate.

But instead of water washing over his vision, it was heavy oblivion crowding into his mind and swallowing him whole, the sense of something other waking up.

*~There's a darkness at the heart of my love That runs cold, runs deep The darkness at the heart of my love For you~*

For the second time in however many hours, Eddie woke up covered in blood that wasn’t his own.

This time, he was laying on his back, surrounded by the shifting whisper of… tree branches, apparently.

He shot upright, hair flying round his face with his frantic absorption of his surroundings, realising he was lying in the middle of the forest floor, twigs and damp earth leeching cold through his clothes, his filthy t-shirt now stiff with even more blood. Fresh blood.

Eddie flinched, and the shock of seeing the fresh scarlet mess over his clothes made him realise something. His throat wasn’t dry anymore.

He was covered in blood. Again.

And he not only liked it, but he couldn’t remember how it had happened.

Where the fuck had the time gone?

Why couldn’t he remember?

And why didn’t he know what – or who – the blood belonged to?

“Shit, shit, shit.” He scrambled to his feet, rubbing at the blood like it would go away, but it just spread further, coating his hands like paint, and only increasing the tangy smell wafting around his head, “No, no!!” He whimpered, dropping back to the ground to wipe at the leaves and bracken, doing anything to stop this feeling clinging to his skin.

Oh stop panicking, this is who you are now. Get over it and embrace it.

Eddie froze, looking around quickly, “Who’s there?!” he ignored the way his voice cracked in fear, tears welling to his eyes again, but he refused to let them fall.

He was so sick of crying.

Safe. Get somewhere safe. Away from this.

He bolted back to his feet for a final time, moving on instinct whilst his mind struggled to keep up with all of this.

There were no bodies nearby, no one screaming in fear so that was… Good, right?

Right?

There was no way he could have hurt someone; he didn’t have that in him.

Hell, he’d barely ever fought back when Billy or Jason had beat on him, just sat there, and took it, let them hurt him and he never raised a fist in self-defence.

Why would he? People already thought he was a dangerous monster, so if taking the beatings meant he wouldn’t fuel that thought, he’d let his skin split and his bones break.

Right.

So, there was no possible way the blood belonged to a person. Even with the time loss, even with this… vampire-ness, he just couldn’t.

And he kept telling himself that.

Over and over, as his feet carried him out of the forest, down the quiet streets to one house in particular that always been a safe haven.

The porch with its fairy lights wrapped around the beams, the pumpkins set out for the holidays, the door mat that welcomed in every single guest.

And if he moved round the back of the house, he’d be able to pick out the window right by the apple tree, the one with the suncatcher he’d bought for you hanging in the window, so it could throw rainbows over the dark, welcoming walls of your room.

Except… He couldn’t go in.

Not just because he was meant to be dead.

Not just because he was too scared for you to see him like this.

Not just because he was a vampire.

But because on his way out of the forest, he’d tripped over something on the ground.

Something that showed evidence of being mauled by a creature out of its mind, starved, out of control. Multiple twin piercings of teeth all over its bloody neck, an antler broken in the struggle.

He hadn’t even made it a foot away before he heaved, vomiting up scarlet blood that tasted like game and iron, tears flooding his cheeks in utter disgust and heartbreak at what he’d done.

How dare he go up there after doing that?

If he could do that to such a beautiful creature, maybe he did have it in him to hurt someone, to hurt you.

Maybe he was a monster after all.

~* Now paint a pair of eyes And let's watch as it dries Remember always, that love is all you need Tell me who you wanna be And I will set you free *~

Eddie kept himself hidden, kept himself away from you for a total of five days.

Five days he spent hiding in the boathouse during the day, avoiding the sun which made his eyes hurt and his head spear with flashes of pain.

Five days he spent stealing things from campsites, forcing himself to eat regular food, food he used to love… Only for it to make his stomach roil until it came back up.

Five days he spent watching for the moment the sky slipped behind the clouds and he could sneak across town to your house, climbing the tree in your back garden with a grace he’d never really possessed.

He’d sit in that tree, perched on a thick branch, hidden in the darkness as you fought one of your own.

It was his own personal Hell, watching you do everything you could to avoid sleep, watching you toss and turn until you screamed yourself awake ,the sound so potent and clear in Eddie’s ears that it felt like a knife to the chest. Or teeth.

Every night he undertook his vigil, he got a little angrier, a little sadder, and a lot more guilt-ridden.

Angry, because Steve had promised he would look after you. And he knew it wasn’t all Steve’s fault, but you were barely clinging to this side of the living and Steve had promised.

That primal shadow lurking in his mind snarled at the thought, at the prospect of you not being taken care of and slipping away before his very eyes.

But it was the idea of going in there, of breathing in your midnight rain and starry sky scent and losing control. The thought of being unable to stop his fangs from tearing through your throat like butter, of hurting you when you were already in so much pain…

Go to her. Save her. Show her you’re alive and protect her from all these assholes who don’t seem to care.

Eddie grunted, poised in that same tree now, watching the dim glow of your phone through the window, “I’m not going over there. I can’t. I can’t risk hurting her.”

Yeah. That shadow apparently had a voice. It was his voice - since who else would be living in his head? – only deeper, bassier in every sense from the tone of the words to the urges and emotion it stoked within him.

You’re weak. You sit there and blame yourself, yet you’re causing her more pain by ending her suffering. Steve was meant to take care of her, and he didn’t. Look at her. Look what happened because you weren’t there.

Eddie gritted his teeth, feeling a prickle run through his jaw, like an itch and he reached a hand up to rub at the side of his face, “Fuck off. They tried their best, okay? Steve already feels bad enough, and he is looking after her. Stop being an asshole.”

He never thought he’d see the day where he was having a full on, verbal conversation with himself, but then again, he never thought he’d see the day where he was eaten by bats and then turned into a vampire, so.

The moon hung heavy for a few more hours, until it began to be chased by the very first brushes of sunlight.

You’d long since woken up, with a cry of pain and Eddie had sat there far longer than usual, watching as you physically dragged yourself from your bed and got ready for school, all the while the tree branch splintered under the weight of his hands digging into it.

The sheer intensity of his emotions was becoming harder and harder to restrain, the urge to protect you and also to put an end to your pain, to show you that he was alive, mostly and you didn’t need to mourn anymore.

You didn’t need to be alone.

But what if he hurt you?

That battle hadn’t gotten any easier over the last couple of hours, and more than once he’d almost dozed off for a few minutes, only to wake up halfway across the tree, hand outstretched toward your window.

To give it a gentle shake to free the half-latched lock you always kept it on. For him.

Fuck, he wanted to go in there so badly, to slide into bed and wrap his arms around your trembling frame. He’d pull you into his chest, bury his nose in your hair and reassure you that he was okay… Reassure himself that this was real. That he might be some bloodsucking monster, but he was still alive.

He just couldn’t risk causing you more pain.

She’s dying from the inside out.

“Shut up.” Eddie breathed it, the shadowy voice chipping away at the resolve the same way it had been for the last few hours, eating away at his determination.

You could save her, right now. Just knock on the window.

Eddie shook his head fiercely, curls lifting in the breeze and the scent of distant rainclouds and electricity tickled his nose, “Stop. I mean it.” He closed his eyes, the wood creaking in protest as his hands flexed.

Don’t you realise how happy she would be? How relieved? You could give her all of that, and yet-

“Enough!!!!” Eddie snarled the word loud enough to startle the birds on the roof of your home, causing them to take flight in a flurry of wings.

He swore, barely having time to jump from the branches to the shadowy cover below before your face appeared at the window, peering out curiously.

He froze, breath stolen just from that closer glimpse at you, the pain so clear on your face but you were so beautiful, you were the most gorgeous, stunning person he had ever seen, even in your pain.

If you don’t go to her, I will.

What?

Before he could work that one out, you were already gone, the light turning off and he waited for the kitchen light to come on, to tell him you were going to eat something, but it didn’t. Instead, he heard your keys in the front door, and then the retreat of your footsteps toward the street. 

Oh, how easy it would be to chase after you and hold you… But instead, he held himself against the back of the house with every ounce of supernatural strength in his body until you were gone.

Coward.

He snarled again at the voice, instead climbing back into the tree, and slipping through the window into your room. He paused when the quiet softness enveloped him, so familiar and comforting to him.

It was cosy and dark in here, away from the sunlight that burned his eyes and made his skin feel all tight.

Your scent was everywhere, filling his head with the memories of all the nights and days here, the warm cuddles in bed, your hands tangled together as you pressed kisses to each other’s bodies… The fairy lights lighting the room as you read to him, or as he worked meticulously on the next D&D campaign whilst you played with his hair, weaving braids into it and marvelling at the soft, curly texture.

Before he moved any further, he ducked down to kick off his trainers, since they were messy and covered in dirt.

He padded across the room on silent feet, pausing to brush a hand over the stuffed bat he’d won you at the carnival last summer.

“Oh my god, Eddie, look at that bat!!!”

“Shit!! Look how cute he is!! I am so winning that for you, sweetheart.”

He spent a whole pocketful of change on the stall, throwing those little bean bags again and again until the bucket tipped over and you and Eddie exploded into cheers loud enough that a mother pulled her child away.

Neither of you could care, especially when the man handed over the stuffed bat and you squealed in utter delight when Eddie presented it to you with all the flourish of a diamond ring.

You treasured that bat for the whole night, tucking him into the front pocket of your faded dungarees, and he even sat between you both on the Ferris Wheel.

That little stuffed animal held every single memory from that night, every ounce of joy, and blossoming love because it was one of your first few proper dates.

Eddie picked up the bat, straightening its wings as he recalled how fucking nervous he’d been at the end of the night, his hands shaking, heart pounding but he’d still lifted a hand to your jaw, stroking your cheekbone before finally drawing you up to his lips so he could kiss you.

It had been the little nudge you’d both needed, the final point in which things went from ‘Will We?” to “We Will.”

He pressed a kiss to the head of the bat, before placing him back in the exact spot it’d been before.

He turned to the rest of the room, just taking in your space, the little symbols of you that it felt like he hadn’t seen in years. You were everywhere, your scent, your warmth, your personality. Even if he could almost feel the pain lingering from your heart.

There was a drawer where Eddie kept some of his clothes, so he could stay here and not have to worry about changing if you were going to school the next day or something.

He stooped down to open the drawer, carefully rummaging through until he pulled free a pair of ripped black jeans (obviously), a faded soft Metallica t-shirt, and a denim jacket.

Lifting them to his nose, he easily and indulgently breathed in the scents lingering on the fabrics, yours and his, mingled like they should always be.

Your scent was forever one that simultaneously set his heart racing but also soothed that wild, untamed energy within him. He only ever had to be in your presence for a few moments, the scent of your perfume or shampoo gently wafting over him and he felt safe. He felt at home.

You were his home.

Eddie swallowed as his throat suddenly closed up, overcome with the loss of something so poignant and so good in his life.

He shook his head fiercely, quickly changing without leaving a speck of dirt on your floor and he bundled all his clothes up into something more manageable.

He needed to get out of here, get away from these memories and the temptation, because he knew he would sit on your bed, like all those times before and wait for you to come home.

With a final glance round, he decided to slip the scarf from the back of your door, soaked with that beautiful scent and he slipped it around his neck before regretfully leaving your room, back into the cold and the dark and the loneliness.

~* There's a darkness at the heart of my love That runs cold, runs deep The darkness at the heart of my love So bold, so sweet *~

This was a really bad idea.

Like, a terrible one.

A dangerous one.

What was he doing, exactly?

Only being technically dead, but still currently wandering the schools of Hawkins High.

Oh yes.

Considering quite a lot of the student body would actually rather be dead than come back here, he was certainly living up that nickname of ‘freak’, wasn’t he?

But then again, Eddie was here for one reason, and one reason only.

The same reason it had been for a long, long time now.

You.

Because if there was one thing that would make Eddie risk exposure, it was you, and Hellfire.

It was a Friday, and about twenty minutes until the weekly Hellfire meeting. He knew you had been appointed DM in his absence, for which he was so incredibly proud and he genuinely could not wait to see you run the campaign. You’d stood in for him sometimes, and every single time you did, you were just incredible.

The way you’d describe locations and characters, the turn of voice when a monster gained the upper hand, or a player rolled a critical score – he was obsessed with watching you play.

So if that meant sneaking into the school when the last trickles of students were still lingering, then he would.

He still remembered your Friday schedule, and had used the cloudy, gloomy afternoon to run across the field from the woods, through the halls and slip into the drama room.

It contained enough dark corners for him to settle down into, adopting his preternatural stillness and blending into shadows to watch you.

Your presence walking toward the door hit him before you even opened it, that scent washing through him and again tempting him to come out of hiding, but he didn’t. He forced his limbs rigid and watched as you looked around the cosy room, a shudder running through your body like you felt his presence.

He stayed utterly silent as he watched you set the room up, light every candle, organise all the seats, pull the carefully crafted characters form their boxes and place them in their relevant positions on the map.

Eddie watched as you did every single activity but seemed to avoid the throne until you couldn’t put it off any longer.

You stood in front of it, staring at the carved wood with glazed eyes, as if you were watching something else, someone else sitting there. Especially when you ran a hand carefully over the back of it, and if he hadn’t had the hearing of a supernatural being, he would have missed the way you breathed, “This will always be yours, Eddie.” Before lowering yourself into the seat and settling in to wait for the others to arrive.

And wait.

And wait.

Half an hour passed, then forty-five minutes, then an hour.

Time went on and on, the candles burning lower and your frame sinking deeper into the throne, like the energy you’d managed to dredge up was dissipating like the smoke from the flickering flames.

Where the hell were they all?

The Hellfire Club never missed a meeting, were always early and always eager to get started before the supposed time, so why weren’t they here?

He sat there, hiding, watching as the love of his life grew more and more dejected, eyes turning unseeing and unfocused again as you stared at the notes of his campaigns, the notes written for the third time because the first two were so unreadable in his eagerness that even he couldn’t have deciphered it.

They’ve forgotten her, Eddie. They’ve thrown her away, like they don’t care. She’s sitting alone and you’re still hiding from her.

Eddie hissed so very softly under his breath, anger beginning to stir in his belly with every passing tick of the clock.

He’d heard from your walk to school with Dustin that the Club had to convince you to take over as DM, had to literally get on their knees and beg, tell you how he would have wanted it and yet they’d fucked you over?

No fucking way.

By the time the clock crept past two hours, Eddie was stewing in his own fury, blood hot in his veins and hands curled into fists.

You were slumped over the table now, your head in your hand like it was too heavy, rubbing at your eyes every now and then and smudging your makeup.

He watched as you fished your phone from your pocket, thumbs quickly typing out a message, seemingly to one of the Club.

Not three minutes later, your phone gave a soft ping, and you ducked your head to read it.

Eddie witnessed your body stiffen like you’d been punched, head slipping from your hand and a noise of pained shock exit your throat.

He needn’t have tried to figure out a way to read the message, because you unknowingly told him just a breath later, “Band tryouts? What the actual fuck?” You stared at the phone like you couldn’t believe it, all whilst he watched and listened to the increasingly ragged, unsteady breathing rasping past your throat.

Before he could make a move to comfort you, to help you, to do something, you were gone. Fleeing the room and leaving the door swinging on its hinges and the taste of agony bitter on his tongue.

Bastards.

Yeah, it was bullshit that they were replacing him so quickly, but he knew it had to happen at some point.

But to leave you sitting here? To neglect telling you? To abandon you?

Eddie saw red.

A wave of fury that had been broiling in his belly at the treatment of you rose, making him taste smoke in his throat. His jaw twinged, ached for a split moment before he felt the sharp sting of his fangs pierce his lip.

They’d left you sitting there.

He burst from his hiding spot; eyes zeroed in on the only remnant of the Club left in the room – the character statues perched on the map.

They were swept up in his grip in a mere blink, and this feral snarl ripped from his throat at the sight of Gareth’s character.

How dare they fucking leave you.

A soft crack came from his fist, and he dropped the shards on the floor, that deep voice cooing in delight, begging him to leave this place, coaxing him to go and find the real versions of these layers and make them pay for causing you such pain.

And what did Eddie do?

He listened.

~* And all this time you knew That I would put you through The darkness at the heart of my love For you *~

The footsteps of the last ‘audition’ faded away down the street, their owner buzzing about ‘how well that had gone’ and how they’ve ‘totally got the spot’. In all fairness, they hadn’t been too bad. The best out of everyone that had come, but that might have just been because Eddie was focused more on the short mop of hair instructing the people on what to play.

Eddie had never felt a bad feeling toward his friend before, but right now?

Right now every smirk, laugh, nod, word only fuelled that raging chasm of fury in his belly and each shift of the breeze only burned his throat more.

His fangs still hadn’t retracted, and he was too far into his anger to notice how his lips moved to accommodate the new length. He also wouldn’t notice the red sheen to his eyes, the way they turned glossy and captivating, intended to ensnare the pray and ensure they didn’t run away…. Too much.

Eddie also wouldn’t have noticed how the inner voice that was usually his own had slipped further into the new arrival, that voice that was deeper and raspier than his usual tone. The lines between man and this monster were blurring, despite all his best efforts to ignore this new revelation.

The was a haze in his mind, a weighted cloud of scarlet bloodlust that made his limbs tremble with anticipation and his mind forget all thought but feeding.

Because the boy standing across the street from him had hurt you when you were already in so much pain.

And that just wouldn’t do.

We should have a little fun with them first, Eddie.

Eddie shook his head sharply, keen eyes tracking the street for any late stragglers, “No. I don’t have the patience for that. He needs to know what he did.” Even his physical voice had dropped in pitch, flatter, lacking its usual animated brightness.

Of course, that could just be because he was dead, and his girlfriend was currently clinging to the precipice by her fingernails.

That reminder made him snarl softly again, and he rose from his hidden crouch from someone’s front yard. The air shifted, bringing across Gareth’s scent stronger, and his head was suddenly full of heady, tempting images of the boy prone beneath Eddie’s attack, sobbing in fearful apology of his actions, of Jeff screaming and running from the sight of their old friend and DM fang deep in Gareth’s jugular.

Oh, the way the blood would feel sliding down his parched throat, hot and tangy. It would quell that beast rising within him, quieten the fury and… Wait.

What if it satisfied him enough that he could come and see you? What if it dulled these urges long enough that he could spend at least just a little time in your presence without the fear of hurting you?

That thought, dangling in front of him like a shiny prize, made him slowly creep forward on silent footsteps, the bloodlust still a thick haze in his head that allowed room for one three thoughts only.

Hunt.

Feed.

Revenge.

Jeff looked up from unplugging the amp, that ingrained instinct of an unknown danger causing him to look up, “Hey, I think I just saw someone out in the yard.”

Frowning, Gareth looked up too, clocking his head to gaze into the empty street, “Really? I didn’t hear anyone.” But he too had that feeling of skeletal fingers brushing over his neck, the silent alert that something out there was watching them, lying in wait.

Did they know?

Did they know that the friend they had already moved on from was out there? With his intense, captivating gaze that would ensnare them like a pinned bird, ready for his feed?

Could they see that it was someone who used to bring their Friday nights alive with tails of monsters and heroes, whose voice painted the most elaborate and beautiful worlds before their very eyes?

The same voice that sung with them, who played his beloved guitar in front of a gathering of loyal fans?

No. They didn’t.

Because Eddie Munson was dead and the world had moved on.

The street was quiet, the birds and smaller animals had fled in the presence of a predator and the moon had slipped behind a cloud, casting everything in the weighted blanket of night.

It was time.

Yes, yes, Eddie. Feed. Become who you are meant to, let me out, let me join you-

Eddie tracked a path across the street, each step bringing him closer and closer, Gareth’s heart pounding a rhythm drum beat in his ears, louder and louder with every inch foot of space and it all narrowed down to those three thoughts.

He slipped behind the car on the driveway, holding his breath, limbs coiled to pounce as he bared those fangs once more-

Ping.

Ping.

Ping.

Ping.

Ping.

A frantic buzzing was emanating from his pocket, sending a little humming vibration through his hip every couple of seconds.

It was insistent, the buzzing almost getting stuck and overlapping each other in an effort to keep up with itself.

Eddie blinked in confusion, startled out of his bloodlust and he frowned, trying to place where he was, why he was seconds away from tearing out his friend’s throat.

What the fuck was going on?

Gareth and Jeff were still peering out into the driveway, instruments held in the air mid-action before Jeff shrugged, “Maybe it was just a cat.”

Gareth hummed his agreement before the pair continued with their task, none the wiser of how close they had just come to death at the hands of a ghost. Or rather, a vampire.

Eddie felt sick.

Sick to the very core with disgust at himself, at this whole situation.

He’d let himself grow weak and distracted, nearly allowed that beast to take over… And what would have happened then?

Ping.

Ping.

Ping.

He made a noise, quickly turning tail and fleeing to the safety of the tree line once more before searching his pockets for the source of the vibration.

His hands met the flat smooth shape of his phone, tucked into a pocket and he pulled it out, still just as confused.

When did he pick this up?

When did he even turn it on?

Before he could question that further, the screen suddenly lit up with another flurry of notifications, the bright light stinging his eyes but that didn’t matter.

It didn’t matter that he had almost killed his friend.

It didn’t matter that he was standing still within view of anyone looking out of their window.

Nothing else mattered.

Because it was your name lighting up his screen, hundreds, and hundreds of message alerts, all titled with “Lucky Dice❤️‍🔥🎲”, his nickname for you ever since you first joined Hellfire and had grabbed his hand, brushing a teasing kiss to his knuckles before he rolled the attack roll against your character.

Your cheeks were flushed with the action, ignoring the snickers from the others when neither of you could look away from each other, when it took Eddie an extra second to remember what he was doing.

Ever since then, when that brush to his knuckles had given you the result you wanted, you’d done the same thing.

A kiss to the knuckles, a secret smile against his skin and it worked every time.

He’d been calling you his lucky dice long before you knew about it, because with you, he was lucky. Everything always seemed to work out just right, just perfect, and it was all down to you and that smile.

Eddie’s hands shook as he opened up the text screen, and the blurring of hundreds of text messages shifted across his vision.

It was a story, a journal of sorts, a letter written to Eddie with every thought, emotion and action described to him in the voice that could guide him out of Hell.

As he quickly sifted through, his heart sank deeper and deeper as it became more evident you were drowning, that beautiful voice growing more exhausted and losing the ability to fight. His newly immortal heart grew as cold as ice at the thought of you sinking into that pit for good.

You were going to die.

Like hell would he let that happen.

Lucky Dice❤️‍🔥🎲:

-“Come home.”

-“Please come home. Come back to me.”

-“I love you, Eddie.”

His fingers moved before his head caught up, knowing that if he bailed now, he wouldn’t get another chance.

If he ran, he’d lose the only good thing in his life, the one thing he’d truly gotten all for himself. Love, happiness, and someone completely beautiful he got to call his girlfriend.

So, once more, Eddie Munson didn’t run.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” – sent.

Even as he pressed send, his feet were already quickly hurrying over the ground, running towards, not away. He weaved through back alleys and over gardens, slipped through two fences and then he was there, once more beneath the tree in your garden.

There was nothing, just darkness at first and then the light flicked on.

He watched as the text bubble rose and fell, about four times, each appearance sending his heart careening further into his chest.

The soft hiss of the blinds over your window snapped his attention back to full focus, nearly cracking his neck he tipped it up so quickly.

Inch by inch, you were exposed to him.

Hips, torso, ribs, shoulders.

You were wearing one of his t-shirts, an old Metallica band tee, the material soft and cosy on your frame and he always loved how it fell to your mid-thighs. It gave him room to gently trace patterns on the soft skin, to rest the width of his hand just above your knee, and to feel your smaller fingers trace over his knuckles and rings.

His hands curled into fists reflexively, an ache of longing ripping through his body and he was thankful he didn’t need to breathe as much as a regular person, because there was absolutely no air coming into his lungs now.

He could see from the rapid, uneven rise and fall of your own chest that you were suffering the same, your face still hidden as you steeled yourself for what you might see.

A silly thought pinged into Eddie’s mind, and he quickly lifted his hands to smooth through his curls, to make sure his fringe fell over his forehead right and he wasn’t covered in dirt or anything.

A quick brush down of his jacket and jeans, and he prayed he looked tidy enough for you, that he looked how you remembered him… Without all the blood.

Fuck, he was so nervous. It was like that first date all over again, where he stood outside your door for a solid five minutes, arguing with himself before he finally had the courage to knock and take you out on a date.

If anything, he might have even more scared.

But he had no time to dwell on that, because your chest expanded with a final breath, and then you pulled away the last barrier between the pair of you.

Oh, you were even more beautiful than the last time he saw you.

Even the tear tracks on your face were like brushes of starlight, just like when you’d both climb up onto the roof of the trailer and watch the night sky.

He was just so in love with you, it hurt.

Eddie watched as you stared down at him, chest stuttering.

You didn’t move. You didn’t even blink.

You just stood there, perhaps even more still than he could get, just… Just staring at him.

Eddie cocked his head slightly, worried you were going into shock, and he took a step forward, into the light that emanated form above the back door, and then he lifted his hand and gave you a little dorky wave, even as every single cell in his body was screaming at him to pull you into his arms.

Each rapid-fire pulse was an order, demanding he go and hold you.

That movement seemed to break you from the trance, and your face crumbled with fresh tears, just seconds before you dropped out of sight below the window, collapsing under the weight of this revelation.

Eddie swore under his breath, turning to scramble up the tree, across the branches and somewhat ungracefully into your bedroom window, where your muffled sobs were piercing the silence. “Shit, hey, baby, it’s okay. It’s okay, I’m here.”

He dropped to his knees beside where you had fallen, curled in on yourself and he wasted no time in wrapping his arms around your shaking body, his own trembling with the crushing weight of everything that had happened.

As he gently pulled you into his lap, coaxing your head to his neck, it hit him just how much you’d all gone through this year. You’d experienced things even a full-grown adult wouldn’t be able to handle, and yet none of you could tell anyone about it.

Ever.

Your arms suddenly flew around his neck, gripping his shoulders, his hair, your legs uncurling, only to loop around his waist. The sobs were coming too fast for your words to make sense, but he didn’t need super senses to know you were breathing his name over and over, like a mantra, a chant, and a blessing all in one.

Tears burned the back of his own eyes, then fell heavily as he pressed his face into your hair, letting his own sobs come quietly as he merely held you tighter, relishing the feel of your warmth against his own chilled bones, the scent of your shampoo. You were real, you were alive, and you might have been falling to pieces, but you were still here.

This was real.

It was finally real.

Hours, or maybe only minutes later, you slowly lifted your head from his neck, his jacket soaked in tears and the scent of salt heavy in the air but that didn’t matter. Not when you lifted your hands to cup his jaw, to turn it this way and that, glossy eyes probing every inch of his face, “I…” There was a roughness to your voice form the sobbing and your exhaustion, but Eddie was still enraptured by your beauty. “Eddie, how is this possible… I watched. I felt when you...” You flinched imperceptibly, moving to pat at his chest and to pause with your palm pressed over his heart.

Fresh tears filled your eyes as his heart beat strong beneath your touch, and he smiled a small smile, reaching up to brush away your tear with the back of his finger, “It’s kind of a weird story, I’m not gonna lie. It sounds like part of a campaign, but then again, everything we do does.” He laughed a little, trailing that knuckle over your cheekbone, along the line of your jaw and down your neck. His hands trembling still, terrified he might accidentally hurt you, but you trusted him.

You always did.

The way you shivered beneath him sent more little shockwaves through his blood, like little jolts of lightning and this time in your presence had already made him feel far more alive than any moment since he’d opened his eyes. “But I will say that through it all, I kept thinking of you. I knew you’d help me back home, sweetheart.”

You made a little noise, half exhale of breath, half sob again and pulled him closer with the hand still on his jaw, your rings cool to his skin.

The world stood still again when your lips pressed to his, soft at first, a tender press as if you were both getting reacquainted with each other, but within seconds it was already growing bolder, more intense.

Eddie’s hand slipped back to your neck, inadvertently resting over your pulse as he pulled you closer, eyes falling closed and he gently ran his tongue against the seam of your lips, groaning softly at the instant parting you granted him, and he groaned again deeper in is throat when the taste of you flooded his tongue.

You were hot coffee on a cold morning, burnt sugar in front of crackling bonfires, the scent of thunderstorms heavy in the air and the explosion of stars on a blanket of midnight.

He thought kissing you before was indescribable, but now, with the heightened senses and months of being apart… It was something else entirely. It was everything.

And you always responded so well, melting like butter under his touch but equally meeting his soft challenge with your own.

You shifted on his lap, straightening up so every inch of your torso was pressing into his, dragging your other hand upfrom his chest and into his hair.

Shit.

Your nails scratched over his scalp, and his eyes would have rolled back if they were still open. Your head slanted to kiss him at a deeper angle and your tongue danced with his own, stroking against it like you refused to back down having missed him just as much and the pair of you determined to show the other just how much.

With every second that slipped by, every soft moan from your mouth into his, every pass of your hands through his hair, he was losing grip on that tether a little more.

His skin burned everywhere you were touching, even through your clothes and his heart raced in time with your own, pumping blood round his body and only increasing that searing heart. His head filled with the scent of you, his mouth flooded with your taste, and he hadn’t even thought about the hot flush of your blood beneath your skin yet.

He was drowning in you, the world fading away to everything but this moment right here and he was oh so happy to let it.

Your tongue was currently tracing the roof of his mouth, thumbs pressed firmly but gently into the joint of his jaw and then – then the tip of your tongue caught his teeth, his fangs he hadn’t even realised had extended and you made a noise of surprise.

Eddie’s eyes flew open, even as the sensation travelled straight through his spine and all the way below his belly and he pulled back, apologies already falling in stuttered, wrecked gasps from his lips. “Shit, shit, fuck, baby, I – I don’t know what to say, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise, I didn’t-”

The finger you pressed to his lips cut him off mid-sentence, and you examined him with unreadable eyes, even with your cheeks flushed so prettily and your hair all messy from his own hands.

When satisfied he was quiet, you once more cupped his jaw, running your thumb over his plush lower lip for a moment before gently pulling it down to expose his fangs.

He’d never get used to saying that.

You lifted your eyes to his, searching them, the rich honey they’d melted into and when he nodded ever so faintly, you looked back to his lips. A second of nothing, then you pressed the pad of your thumb carefully to the tip of lengthened canines, watching as a bead of blood welled up, scarlet and shining.

Now the aroma of your blood pervaded the air, intense and irresistible, a purely concentrated version of you, and fuck, it made his teeth length more, and he felt a deeper hunger than anything previous. This wasn’t just hunger to quench is urges, it was a hunger for you. To remember you the way he used to, to feel you and make you feel just how much he treasured you.

It was already whispering in his head, the urge making his hands clench into fists, and he carefully turned his head away from you, squeezing shut his eyes so you wouldn’t see the hungry, red sheen to them. The action of his hands made his rings click together, a sort of stim he’d always done, to try and expel anxious energy.

You still hadn’t said anything, something Eddie was also trying not to worry about because he couldn’t bear the thought of just getting you back and then losing you again, especially to his own detriment.

Were you terrified? Disgusted?

“Hey…” Now you did speak, voice gentle and you gave a little tug to his curls, “Look at me, Eddie.” Shit, the way you called his name in that hoarse voice, a voice he’d listen to and do whatever to make happy.

Which was why he had to ignore it this one time. “I can’t. I don’t want you to see me like this, like a mons-”

“If you finish that sentence, I swear to God, I’ll knee you in the balls.”

He froze, peeping open one eye that he slid sideways, “Not the kind of talk I’d expected us to be having right now, sweetheart.” He tried to bring humour to the situation, tried to distract you… But you’d always seen straight through his bullshit.

He felt your eyes on him, that look he just knew burning in them, so he relented, slowly turning back to face you. He waited a single second before opening his eyes properly, letting you see the full expanse of the glimmering sheen over the honey brown.

And you did not flinch. Not one bit.

If anything, curiosity shone in your own gaze, the blood still sitting on your thumb as you gazed between his eyes and then down at your thumb.

A pause. Thoughtful, wondering.

Then you held your thumb to his lips and spoke so softly, so simply, “Here.”

Eddie blinked, brows pulling in, “Wait, you don’t understand… I can’t. I haven’t…” He swallowed, pointedly trying to ignore your thumb, glazed eyes fixed on your own even as his cheeks flushed, “I haven’t fed from… From a human. Only from animals.” He couldn’t help the way his lips pulled back a little in disgust when he said that sure you would cringe away too.

But you sat there still, unmoving, unwavering, “Eddie. Look at me, I’m not scared. I’m not disgusted. Whatever this is, whatever happens, I’m with you.” You nodded once to emphasise your point, “You can tell me what happened whenever you’re ready, if you even want to. But I’m never going to leave you. I just got you back, I’m sure as hell not losing you again, okay?” You leant forward, resting your forehead to his, “I love you. Every single part of you, even if some of them are sharp and pointy… Besides, we’ve dealt with weirder.”

He couldn’t help the huff of laughter when you said that, the tension in his body melting away with the soft, gently thump of your forehead on his own. This was an action so familiar to you both, something that always brought him comfort and it helped him to realise, maybe… maybe he could do this. You’d be by his side, and he always felt most himself, most confident when you.

“What if I hurt you?” He spoke it quietly just in case it was spoken into existence if he said it any louder.

You shook your head faintly against his own, confidence oozing from you. Confidence in him, “You won’t. I trust you.” You lifted your head from his enough to look at him, and then held up your hand again, “Go on.” There was a little encouraging smile on your lips, curiosity still burning in your expression.

Okay.

Okay.

Eddie took a deep breath, his ringed fingers coming to gently encircle your wrist and he brought your thumb between his lips, giving the tiny wound a gentle suck and… You exploded across his tongue.

It was all of those things from earlier, fire, sugar, storms, lightning, everything, barrelling tenfold through every single sense and sending him flying higher than any drug every could.

It was cliché as fuck, but you were his drug, expanding every sense and thought until he felt like he was just in this humming state of bliss.

And that was all from one drop.

You really were the very thing he orbited, coveted, and treasured.

When his head eventually cleared, you both moved back to the bed, cuddling up the way you always had done, not an inch between you, buried underneath the covers, away from the rest of the world.

Eddie held you close in his arms, arms wrapped around your torso with his fingers buried in your hair against your scalp, absently rubbing his fingertips into the muscle every now and then.

Your head was cradled on the front of his shoulder, right over his heart and he knew you were counting the beats beneath your ear, convincing yourself once more that he really was here beneath you, alive, whole, safe.

He let out a sigh, a breath he’d been holding since his last one and he mumbled, “Can we go to bed? Just… Just to hold each other?” He was never ashamed to ask for these moments, this softness.

You hummed softly, turning to kiss his shoulder and you nodded, “Of course we can.” You were quiet for a moment, rubbing his back gently, “Do you need to hang upside down from the light or something?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, laughing again and suddenly, just like that, everything was just okay, “You’re hilarious, sweetheart. Really. I’m laughing so so hard right now.” He poked your side playfully, earning himself a little squeal.

“Come on then toothy, get in my bed.’

~

This was it.

He was home now.

Finally, he was home.

Back in bed with you, holding you close to his body and counting each one of your breaths, something he’d done long before now. It soothed him, settled the frantic energy itching to get out of his body and helped him focus on something.

In, hold, out.

Over and over, and it not only reassured him you were okay, but it also told him this was real. Because there was no way he could make this feel as solid and warm and true as this.

He could never replicate the warmth of your body, the scent of your skin or the way you felt in his arms.

No way.

Eddie let out a soft sigh against your hair, allowing his body to sink further into the mattress, his fingers tracing patterns over your shoulder blade, a habit he never really noticed he was doing.

And as you finally slept for the first time in months, he felt the coaxing caress of sleep run over his skin too, gently drawing him down into a darkness that was soothing and safe, one that echoed with the faint call of your laughter and the feel of your hand in his.

So, he gave in, following the sound of your voice in his memories, and he allowed himself to sleep properly, safely.

Eddie the found was home.

~* Paint a pair of eyes Let's watch as it dries I'm with you always, always *~

The clouds had just passed over the moon, the clock somewhere past 1:30am when Eddie’s body went rigid for a split second, arms tightening around where he held you to his chest.

His finally dreamless sleep rippled, his resting consciousness slipping through the surface of his mind and giving way to something else.

Someone else.

Him.

The shadowy blanket of his mind shimmered and folded, re-emerging into the stormy, red-hued sky that hung below Hawkins, a flipped mirror of what was above.

The bats that had given life to this form still tore through the air, shrieking at each other as they raced to find their next meal.

They didn’t hurt him or come for him now, even if he could still feel the searing agony of their teeth tearing into his flesh. He brushed a hand over his belly, where the scars would never fade and he still almost flinched away, as if expecting attack.

But of course, they wouldn’t dare, he was one of them. A predator.

A monster? The very thing everyone had perceived him to be?

Before he could dwell too much on that, before he could allow himself to break down in duress at what he had done, his back straightened. His shoulders went back, chin raising in a perfect posture of obedience and willingness to obey.

The stance of a general.

There was no body, but the presence was just as poignant, just as deadly and darkly, wrongly alluring, “My pets did their job well, I see.” There was the sense of being observed, examined by a figure stalking around him in circles, “Perhaps a little too well. I did not expect you to let the boy escape.”

Shit.

His mind whirled quickly, flying through a reason he could give that would not reveal the truth too closely, “Forgive me, sir. My… transformation was not fully complete, I- he - managed to find an escape, I’m afraid I don’t know how.” He couldn’t tell him. Couldn’t risk Vecna knowing the gateway back home. Back to her.

The disembodied voice hummed, mockingly almost, “Yet again, true love wins out.” His next words carried a smirk, the belief that he held the upper hand, “I wonder what she’ll think when she finds out what you’ve truly become.”

He could hardly believe what he was hearing, but he was careful not to let it show on his face. Did he truly not know that he’d been up there? That he… that Eddie had seen her? She knew about them both?

He chose to stay silent, to listen obediently for fear of revealing something in his scrambled, starving brain.

Vecna continued, his voice as cool and casual as if talking of the weather, “If you cannot keep him under control, I will be forced to make moves I’m not planning on taking yet. I’ve been inside your little dove’s head for quite some time, and I must say, she’s practically begging for me to take her and free her. I’d hate to have to end my fun too early because you cannot control the boy.”

A fury rose in his chest, so fierce it stole what little breath he had and threatened to swallow him hole, to burn this place to the ground and take its master with it.

No one touched you.

No one dared lay a hand on you, including this monster.

Even if the guilt still ate at him for leaving you, for hurting you… He would tear apart anyone who dared cause you harm.

Yet as soon as he felt his teeth lengthen, felt his eyes grow sharper and his instincts deadlier… there was a strange tug at his very core.

Something wrong.

It was hooked into the fabric of his very being, sensing the disobedience and reminding him why he was alive, who he had to thank. It yanked sharply, pain splintering through his heart and that fury was suffocated, the flames dying out as instantly as they had come.

Before he could lose composure over whatever the fuck just happened, that commanding voice began to fade back into the aether, but not before his final command. “Be ready. I will have use for you soon. I don’t need the boy getting in the way.”

He still didn’t understand the separating between himself and Eddie. ‘The boy’. He didn’t know where one began and one ended, where one mind stopped and the other started. He might be in control now, but his thoughts, his cravings… His desires, they were still Eddie’s. Still theirs. Just… dialled up to a million.

Were they?

He didn’t know anymore.

Was he still Eddie?

Or was he truly someone else? He knew he had a voice, that he could see through Eddie’s eyes, but he didn’t have the control over the physical body, at least not when Eddie was awake.

The voice hadn’t finished, “When the time comes, I need to know I can count on you.” He felt a phantom pressure around his throat, tighter than the craving for blood, “Can I count on you, General Kas?”

“Yes, Master.”

[stranger-nightmare]

so I’ve just thought

Eddie was wearing that vest from the army surplace store right? so like we can assume that thing was pretty hefty, like probably bulletproof right?

but my beloved dumbass didn’t zip it closed bc he couldn’t sacrifice his aesthetic

like maybe if he’d done it up the bats wouldn’t have been able to eat his fucking sides out asdfghjkl he’s an idiot

okay anyways ima go cry again

[thestrangest-doll-inthe-valley]

Chapter 2: Batty For You, Now and Forevermore

CONTENT WARNING ⚠️ : contains talk of recreational edible use, some adult language, and talk of mental health struggles

If you don’t like it, don’t read it. Most of my stories are not meant for anyone younger than 18. You’ve been warned.

For @multidimensional-wavelength

“Steeeeeve,” Eddie tiredly sing-songed as his head dropped heavily against the arm of the couch, arms resting limply by his side and legs splayed in a lazy v-shape. “I have to get up. I need to make us food, switch the laundry which need I remind you that my uncle’s work clothes are in it, and now that it’s been so long, I have to pee.”

“All of that… sounds like… a you problem,” Steve’s muffled voice came from where he was alternating between soft yet persistent love bites on Eddie’s neck and nibbling on his fiancé’s shirt collar.

They were chest to chest with Steve straddling his partner’s lap. Eddie was shirtless with nothing but his boxer briefs and most tore up skinny jeans (Steve had begged and used his saddest, most heartbreaking kitten in the rain eyes and won) while Steve was in Eddie’s beloved Ride the Lightning Metallica hoodie and a pair of Eddie’s breathable black and purple boxer briefs and baby pink fuzzy aloe socks. While Eddie loved Steve more than he could verbalize or express through actions, he desperately wanted to be able to get up and do things. His ADHD was screaming about the lack of ability to stim or move or really do anything different than what they’d been doing for the past six hours as the edible gummies slowly wore off. It only took 30 mg to take Steve into the clouds for an entire day and whenever he was that high, he tended to be as clingy as a baby bat with no wing strength whatsoever and no ability to fend for itself. Eddie meanwhile required 60 mg just to get a partial haze that left him capable of doing everything like normal. It took at least 100 mg to get anywhere near Steve’s level of out of it and mellow.

“Well that last one is about to be your problem too if you don’t let me up,” Eddie nonchalantly threatened in a light tone as he stared up at the ceiling.

“No, still… a you problem,” Steve disagreed, pausing in his latest live bite that was nearly a black and blue mark from his repeated use of the same spot to kiss Eddie’s stubbled jaw line.

“Honey, I love you…”

“But?”

“I will pee on you,” Eddie bluntly threatened.

“Gross, Ebby!” Steve groaned, losing his desire to continue his gentle marks at the thought of being covered in urine. “You’re gonna ruin my parents’ couch!”

“Our couch,” Eddie corrected, knowing Steve was still struggling to believe the house was really theirs.

It was hard to grasp after all the fights with the elder Harringtons about Steve being attracted to men and marrying Eddie of all people- his parents’ words, not theirs. After a year of not speaking to them and camping out in Uncle Wayne’s trailer, Mrs. Harrington broke and forced her husband to man up so they could keep a relationship with their only remaining child. Since they were never home anyway, part of their wedding gifts to the couple was the deed to the house being put in Steve’s name (he had to keep the Harrington last name, but his parents met him halfway and let it be hyphenated despite Steve refusing to answer to anything less than Steve Munson or Mr. Munson). Steve had actually shown promise in architectural design as well as interior design so his parents paid for his schooling in addition to obscenely large checks on his birthday and Christmas- his mom even started giving smaller amounts to Eddie on holidays as her way of welcoming him to the family (let’s face it, everyone knew the Harrington’s actually had more money than they knew what to do with).

“Either way!” Steve grumbled in a pout. “Don’t ruin the couch.”

“I will gladly ruin the couch if you don’t let me up, you little brat,” Eddie grouchily shot back, feeling the ache in his bladder building steadily. “As gross as it would be to pee my own pants, I will happily do it if it will teach you a lesson.”

“Why are you so mean to me?” Steve whined, eyes gathering tears from being overly sensitive- more than normal.

“Mean to you?!” Eddie breathlessly chuckled. “You’re the one who won’t let me up!”

“I’m not stopping you,” Steve huffed, holding on tight. “You could get up, but you’d have to take me with you.”

“Oh, do I now?” Eddie challenged chuckling at how spaced out and slurred each word was. Steve was definitely about to fall asleep from it. He bit his lip as he slowly brought his hands up and lightly wiggled his fingers over Steve’s waist to get a reaction.

“Leave me alone, I’m high!” Steve laughed though he started crying in the middle of the tickles that were attacking him. “So mean!”

“Aww is Baby Bat mad?!” Eddie teased, laughing hysterically as Steve squirmed but tried desperately to hang on.

“Yes! ‘M ang’y!” Steve slurred as he attempted to glare at his future husband. The effect was ruined by his eyes refusing to stay open so he just looked like he was having a really frustrating dream. “‘M not a bat!”

“Oh? All you’ve eaten today is the fruit I coaxed you to eat during breakfast and all you’ve done is cling to me like a baby bat that couldn’t possibly be on its own,” Eddie recapped. “Ergo, you’re a baby fruit bat.”

“Then you’re a bat too,” Steve pointed out, a huge grin overtaking his face. “Or a tree… Ya know since you’ve been… rooted in place.”

“That’s it, get off!” Eddie abruptly insisted as he rolled his eyes at his air headed fiance’s idea of a joke. “I will not be pinned down and forced to endure whatever pun or dad joke that you insist on slurring out while under the influence.”

“Maybe I don’t wanna leaf you alone,” Steve giggled as he rested his head on Eddie’s chest.

“I want a divorce,” Eddie groaned.

“We’re not even married yet,” Steve pointed out. “Besides, that’s absolutely batty. Get it?”

“Steven Munson,” Eddie drawled out in a warning tone. “One more pun. One. More. Pun. See what happens.”

“Aww, c’mon, Ebby, they’re not that bat,” Steve snorted, falling into a fit of hysterical laughter.

Eddie stayed silent as he pondered how his life came to this. He realized he really should’ve expected this from Steve. His boyfriend was like this while sober, but somehow it got worse?!

“Did ya get it? Ya know, cause we were talking’ about bats,” Steve explained as he nuzzled closer while Eddie’s eye twitched. “And bat kinda sounds like bad… Ebby?”

Still silent.

“Ebby?”

Eddie took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

“Don’t leave me hangin, Ebby,” Steve snickered, resting his chin on Eddie’s sternum and watching his partner’s face.

Without any warning, Eddie launched into an upright position that left Steve falling onto his back on the sectional couch, stunned. The musician booked it for the bathroom while his lover was still trying to catch up to the events that just played out since the edible made it feel like no time and an hour were simultaneously happening with every blink. Eddie sighed a breath of relief after locking the door and unzipping his pants. Finally able to relieve himself, he planned his next moves. He’d sprint upstairs and switch the laundry, then he’d throw the frozen lasagna they’d been meaning to eat into the oven, maybe make some coffee if Steve was still mostly hazy and ready to come down, and then they could watch a horror movie since Steve would be too out of it to actually be scared or triggered. To Eddie, it seemed like a great plan. He finished up and washed his hands after flushing. As he braced himself to sprint in case Steve had decided to sit outside the door (he did that sometimes when the separation anxiety got to be too much), he unlocked the door and took a deep breath. He knew he could clear the jump if he had to dodge his partner but he hoped it wouldn’t be necessary since there was the one time he tried while severely high and ended up almost breaking the prep’s nose when his knee collided with the brunette’s face.

Eddie yanked the door open and was surprised and just the tiniest bit concerned when Steve wasn’t sitting there waiting for him. He tiptoed towards the living room and stopped when he didn’t see his lover on the couch either. The musician made his way upstairs towards the laundry closet with the same amount of trepidation that deer crept through the forest during hunting season. He attempted to shrug it off, assuming Steve was just sleepy and trying to nap off the last of the edible, as he moved the clothes from the washer to the dryer and started a new load in the washer. He’d be able to bring his uncle’s work clothes in the morning after dropping Steve off for his courses and wait for the repair person that was coming by the trailer to fix the elder Munson’s washer. With the laundry sorted, he went to start the lasagna, still treading carefully so as not to startle or otherwise disturb his boyfriend. Once the lasagna was in, he grabbed some blankets and pillows to cozy up the sectional in the living room, pulling the large multifunctional storage ottoman closer to the edge of the couch. With everything in place, he went upstairs to the master bedroom. Approaching the very dimly lit bed, he went to pull the blanket down only to find that Steve wasn’t there.

“Oh shit…” Eddie breathed, heart racing as he tried to mentally list all the places to check.

He started with the bedroom that was converted to his practice space, but even the closet was devoid of any sign that Steve had recently been there. He went to search the bedrooms that had been made up for Dustin and Max, but neither looked to be any different from the last time the kids had stayed over though Dustin’s stuffed frog from Build-A-Bear was missing and Max’s stuffed werewolf from the same store was also missing. He checked the guest room, though was unsurprised that Steve hadn’t gone into the room reserved for his parents’ visits. He checked the bathrooms, closets, finished basement, and the garage. None of them harbored a tousled brunette with fuzzy socks and a stolen hoodie. Needing a breather to recollect himself, Eddie stepped out to the front porch for a cigarette. Slowly but surely he was kicking the habit because it did in fact make Steve cry since lung cancer killed his favorite grandparents on his mother’s side. It wasn’t until the cancer stick was nearly spent that he noticed the door to his van wasn’t properly closed- not wide open or anything crazy, but definitely not closed and locked.

“That is not a proper way to sit, young lady,” Eddie tsked as he stomped out the cigarette butt before approaching to fix the door. “We do not leave our legs open to just anyone that passes by, Madam. We’ve talked about this.”

It wasn’t until his hand was reaching for the door handle that he heard an all too familiar sound. He pulled the doors open to find Steve buried in musty blankets and nearly useless pillows with Dustin’s Frog and Max’s Werewolf plushies poking out near his face. To say the Dungeon Master was confused was an understatement. He didn’t know why Steve would go to such lengths just to take a nap, even while high. He never usually grabbed the kids’ plushes unless he was-

“Some husband I am,” Eddie winced as he realized Steve probably thought he was all alone again. The man had abandonment issues and struggled to understand emotional object permanence- he didn’t believe that someone still loved him unless it was visible and verbal and required a lot of reassurance. He slipped into the van and lounged alongside his softly sniffling partner. “Hey, Baby Bat… I think your sonar is a little broken.”

“Ebby…?” Steve shuddered through a shaky breath.

“Are we having a hard time echolocating, Baby Bat?” Eddie hummed, reaching out and petting his partner’s messed up locks. “I don’t think your little sound waves bounced off the right places. I did exactly what I told you I would. I peed, I changed the laundry over, and I started dinner…”

“Not gone…?” Steve whispered.

“No wonder you couldn’t find me! With sounds that quiet, there was no chance!” Eddie affectionately teased. “But I guess you did tell me that you were my Baby Bat, huh? Daddy Bats should carry their babies, shouldn’t they?”

“‘M not a baby bat,” Steve argued, but there was no volume or heat to it. “Not a Daddy Bat… ‘s too much…”

“No, I guess not and I understand it’s too much. But you are my little Fruit Bat, huh?” Eddie softly smirked. “Are you okay, Honey Bat?”

Steve shook his head, bottom lip threatening to poke out in a distressed pout.

“How about we take it nice and slow tonight, yeah?” Eddie suggested. “You wanna watch Corpse Bride and cuddle? Then tomorrow, I’ll see if I can round the kids up for a long, long sleepover, yeah?”

“All eight?” Steve quietly pressed with big, sad doe eyes that were definitely dilated.

“Now, now, Little Bat, you know Suzie is back with her family right now and Erica already has plans with her friends, but I’m sure I can convince the remaining six to come over,” Eddie gently redirected. “Will, Lucas, and Mike can stay in Dusty’s room with him and Max can have Jane in her room. Though I’m sure we’ll end up using the pull out bed or having some crash in our room. If that happens, you need to make sure all our stuff is put up. I don’t want a repeat of the paddle debacle.”

“I p’omise,” Steve sniffled, watching his partner’s face for approval that he immediately received.

“Does my Fruit Bat need a ride? Did you tire out those little wings?” Eddie offered, slowly stripping away the layers of blankets and pillows. Steve simply nodded once he was completely freed. “Hop on then.”

Eddie sat up and presented his back for Steve to climb onto. The slightly shorter boy did exactly that while making sure to bring his kids’ plushes with them. The musician made sure to securely close the van doors before making his way inside and setting his fiance on the couch.

“Where are you going?!” Steve’s voice cracked as his anxiety flared like a dying ember finding an untouched piece of kindling.

“There’s those sound waves,” Eddie playfully commented, caressing Steve’s jawline. “I set you down so that I can pick you up properly since I need at least one hand to pull dinner out of the oven.”

“Oh,” was all the blushing brunette responded with as he fiddled with the sleeves of the borrowed hoodie.

“C’mere, Honey Bat,” Eddie hummed, lifting his partner to straddle his waist before heading to the kitchen. “I thought we could enjoy some lasagna. Especially since I don’t know how long even a frozen lasagna keeps for.”

“‘M hungry,” Steve sleepily proclaimed as he let himself practically collapse against his partner. “And tired. Is it supposed to hit like this? Ya know all…”

There was a long pause before Eddie bit his lip as he fought off a laugh, “Were you gonna finish that thought or should I start guessing?”

“I know you know what I wanted to say,” Steve grumped, not feeling up to the challenge of trying to describe the effects of the edible.

“I do know what you mean,” Eddie admitted, grabbing an oven mitt and unceremoniously throwing open the oven door. He knelt down and rested Steve’s butt on the thigh furthest from the oven as he hefted the lasagna from the rack to the stovetop. “I also just find it funny and adorable how little it takes to get you this dazed and confused.”

“Rude!” Steve accused, playfully slapping his boyfriend’s chest though it felt more like a light tap since Steve, despite being very capable of throwing a punch and defending the people he lives, actually hates fighting or hurting others, even playfully. “Ebby~”

“Yes, my Nocturnal Hunter ,” Eddie patiently answered as he closed the oven and surprised his partner with how easily he got back to his feet. For a split second the dungeon master saw the former jock’s eyes fly open and dilate with excitement as a sharp, lustful breath drew in and blew out. He smirked at the reaction he earned.

“Wanna get matching tattoos,” Steve blushed, tracing one of his favorites on Eddie’s chest.

“And just what would those be?” Eddie hesitated, uncertain of whether they would agree on a design they could both live with.

Steve mumbled something into the side of his fiance's neck.

“You gotta speak up, Little Fruit Bat,” Eddie corrected, lifting Steve’s head up and over so they could bump foreheads.

Steve bit his lower lip before audibly answering, “A couple fruit bats… maybe on our hands so when we hold hands they’re together or just have the same one in the same spot…”

“I think that’s adorable and I would love to match those with you,” Eddie submitted with a goofy grin as he shifted the angle so their lips met in a soft chaste kiss. “I’ll see if I can find out what shop my usual artist is at and when we can get in.”

“Thank you,” Steve murmured around another kiss.

With that, they refocused on plating some lasagna and curling up in the living room to watch Corpse Bride. The frog and werewolf sat on the couch nearby and Eddie had to remind his boyfriend of the torture Max would put them through if he, in his edible stupor, tried to eat lasagna as a finger food (he was having trouble concentrating enough to use a fork) with her favorite plush in his lap.

“Do NOT,” Eddie reprimanded, moving the critters further away. “I am not saving you from that firecracker’s wrath if you ruin the stuffed animal we put her brother’s ashes in!”

“Fine, fine!” Steve huffed though it quickly turned into a chuckle. “It’s still funny to think he’s in that thing… Like if ghosts are as real as half the stuff we’ve gone toe to toe with, then he could be haunting this place and having to watch all this.”

“Which means he sees the bullet he dodged when it came to your clingy ass,” Eddie joked with a hysterical laugh at the look of offense on his lover’s face. “Billy would’ve killed you and put your ashes in that damn frog for Dustin and then told him good luck with your dad’s ghost!”

“RUDE!” Steve whined. “You can’t be mean to me, I'm high right now!”

“Stevie Bat, mean is our love language,” Eddie reminded his partner with a kiss on his forehead. “If we don’t bully each other, do we really care?”

“I do! I don’t bully you!” Steve argued, licking the sauce from his thumb.

“You do pick on me! You steal my stuff all the time,” Eddie pointed out.

“You steal mine too! That’s our love language,” Steve shot back. They let the conversation die as they approached the scene with the song “Remains of the Day,” which was one of Steve’s favorite songs from the film.

“Would you die to be with me if I were Emily or would you choose to stay in the living world with your Victoria over me?” Steve softly questioned as the song came to a close. His lasagna was mostly gone but he still nibbled on a piece of noodle that had been left behind.

“First off, who’s my Victoria in this because if it's Hargrove, then I’m drinking that death potion in an instant,” Eddie teased, remembering how surprisingly at odds they were with each other despite having so many things in common.

“Chrissy…” Steve just barely spoke up enough to be heard. “Would you just set me free and be with her or would you still want me…?”

Eddie didn’t like the turn this conversation took. He loved Steve and always would, that was certain. Chrissy… Chrissy was complicated. He did think he loved her and he definitely cared about her even if it wasn’t a romantic love. They never really got the chance to explore it either way. The more he thought about it, the more he wondered if Chrissy would have been as perfect for him as Steve was or better or worse even.

“It’s okay, I know,” Steve sadly smiled at his lap as he wiped his hands with the paper towel and set his dishes on the side table before curling up and watching the story of Victor and Emily play out as he escaped to the real world to tell his true love Victoria what had become of him and how he desperately wanted to be with her but had accidentally been betrothed to a bride of the afterlife.

“I don’t think you do,” Eddie sighed, realizing the edible was starting to tap into Steve’s depression. “Chrissy… Chrissy was a special person. But I don’t think she could ever be for me what you are… Like, I could never imagine convincing her to have a quickie in my van outside the school during lunch, to spend a bunch of time mentoring the little nightmare brats that we affectionately call our kids, and she could never really understand me the way you do. Sure, she’s also been through rough stuff, but when you can trauma bond the way we do? It means so much more to not have to sit there and vividly relive it as you try to explain in detail what happened and why is was so hard on you… it’s the relief that you can start to reference that traumatic thing and be able to have someone just get it and have ideas of how to cope or even get better… I’m grateful for her friendship and I was open to our polycule with Billy, but ask me what my perfect relationship is.”

“What is that?” Steve listlessly questioned, certain that his future husband would backtrack at any moment and tell it like it is.

“You. Someone who can be so strong and protective, even when it comes to his sadomasochistic edge lord and nerd extraordinaire of a partner, but still be so vulnerable and trusting of that partner even shit gets scary and uncertain,” Eddie described. “My perfect partner is a hair obsessed, scar tattooed, former jock that can be as metal as Ozzy Osborne and as tender and loving as Joyce Byers and Karen Wheeler entwined in one pseudo dad of six to eight little nerdlings that love to give him a hard time whenever they’re not cuddled up to him like he’s the most important thing in their world.”

“It’s not nice to lie, Munson,” Steve responded, roughly wiping the stray tears away.

“Then stop lying to yourself about what we are,” Eddie coyly shot back. “You’re a Munson whether you like it or not so that was aimed at you. Stop lying to yourself about what I want and whether I’m leaving. Stop putting yourself through that.”

“Eddie-”

“I know it’s not that easy as to just stop, but it’s easy to slowly let someone else help you stop by trusting their intent as much as what happens or is said in the moment,” Eddie cut him off, setting his empty plate aside. “Start believing that my intent is to stay, start accepting that Billy’s intent was to stay. Terrible things have happened, but I’m still here and he would’ve been here too if he had thought there was a better way to protect everyone and still save himself from a life as a puppet. I know what it’s like to be under that thing’s spell and so does Will and Billy did too, but he didn’t have time to find an out like Will and I did. If we leave, it’s not by choice and it will be with a fight.”

“I want to trust your intent so badly,” Steve softly confessed. “I really do, but…”

“People lie about everything all the time, yeah?” Eddie guessed. “Well, I guess we’ll spend the rest of our days proving to each other that the intent hasn’t changed.”

“We could run away and build a house,” Steve softly sang (Mates by McCafferty).

“And fix it up,” Eddie responded.

“And make it ours.”

“When the roof cracks,” Eddie continued, prompting his future husband to really think about the lyrics with both hands holding his face.

“We’ll fix it,” Steve added, eyes full of unshed tears as he struggled to reframe things in his mind.

“When the pipes rust…”

“We’ll change ‘em.”

“When your heart’s old and it stops,” Eddie prompted, feeling his own eyes burn at the memory of the conversation they’d had a while back about what would happen if one of them left the other behind. Eddie would try to stick it out for the kids but he admitted there would be a tipping point where he’d have to let go and join Steve if the prep died first. Steve confessed the same.

“Mine will stop,” Steve sniffles around a hard swallow of his emotions as he put his hands over Eddie’s to hold them to his face.

“Mine will stop,” Eddie returned before applying gentle pressure to make sure Steve sang with him now, which he did.

They sang, “When your hands are old and grey, can I hold you everyday? Can I tell you how I feel for the very last time…?”

“I love you, Steve Munson,” Eddie murmured as he softly butt heads with his soon to be husband.

“I love you, Eddie Munson,” Steve breathed, closing his eyes and just soaking in the moment.

“Now and Forevermore, Baby Bat,” Eddie grinned with a sniffle as he mirrored his lover.

“Always Together, Daddy Bat,” Steve huffed out a chuckle.

In the background, they heard the ceremony for Victor and Emily as they performed the vows. The puzzle piece pair recited them along with the characters.

“With this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty for I will be your wine. With this candle, I will light your way in darkness. With this ring, I ask you to be mine.”

With the last line, Eddie slid one of his favorite rings off his finger and placed it on Steve’s ring finger. It was a perfect fit for a perfectly odd pair.

[salvatoreren]

Vol2 Thoughts

Alright everybody welcome back and ill try to make this as clean and constructed as possible anyways

i suppose chapter eight was the calm before the storm despite many people have died already

max having her halloween mask tho lmao what was she going to do with it and those poor people who got their van stolen,

the way i screamed when nancy saw jason, and erica just seeing the rest, im so glad eddie and the others stayed in the van, like please, dude my jaw dropped when i saw some dude kissing vickie, like poor robin, she deserves better

the way all of them had their moments while on the grass making weapons, i love that, i feel erica about lucas lol, robin and steve just comforting each other and being the best and that dustin and eddie scene, i love when they were scuffling, god they're so wholesome, YOUR HONOR I LOVE THEM, THE NEVER CHANGE UGHHH PLEASE IT HITS DIFF NOW

i cried when will was crying, he's been through so much and ik i have set my negative views regarding ships but like i said byler and mileven was cool okay? anyways im sure what he said to mike was his true feelings

ik it's just me but i wish brenner and el had more closure like a max and billy moment but i think like i said a month ago with hopper saying the need to surpass fathers and grow, it made sense actually because in order for el to grow she needs to defy and surpass him

ALSO WILL AND EL HUGGING

now

CHAPTER NINE REALLY WAS SO HEARTSTOPPING, I HAD A HEADACHE WATCHING IT, MY HANDS WERE SO COLD AND MY STOMACH WAS TWISTING AND SHIT, I WAS SO FUCKING SCARED BUT ANYWAYS

THAT BIT WHERE THEY TRY TO FORCE MIKE IN EATING PIZZA WITH PINEAPPLE, THAT WAS SO CUTE

THE LUMAX SCENES! THE HOW PRESUMPTUOUS OF YOU COMING BACK, I LOVE THEM THEY'RE SO CUTE UGHHH

THAT "CHRISSY THIS IS FOR YOU" HAD ME BAWLING AND SCREAMING, UGH I LOVE HIM, THOSE PEEPS WERE RIGHT ABOUT EDDIE PLAYING MASTER OF PUPPETS, HE WAS INSANE FOR THAT, UGH PLS

IM SORRY BUT I LAUGHED SO HARD WHEN DUSTIN AND EDDIE KEPT STABBING THE BATS LOL

THE WAY MY HEART BROKE WHEN EDDIE CUT OFF THE SHEET, DUSTIN SCREAMING, I HATE THIS

MY POOR BOY DUSTIN GETTING HIS LEG HURT

AND PROPS TO MURRAY, I LOVE HIM HE WAS CRAZY SHOOTING THAT FLAMETHROWER, MVP

THE SINCLAIRS BEATING THOSE TWO DOUCHES LMAO WHY WERE THEY ONLY TWO THO, ERICA KICKING HIM RIGHT IN THE NUTS AND HITTING HIM WITH A FLASHLIGHT QUEEN! ALSO LUCAS SAYING NORMAL IS A FUCKING PSYCHOPATH, YES HE RESIST CONFORMING

MIKE PULLED AN EREN ON ELEVEN UGH IN ASTONISHMENT BUT ALSO UGH IN DISGUST SINCE THEY REMIND ME OF MY NOTP, AND SAYING HOW HE LOVES HER, MILEVEN MAKES ME SOFT GOD

THE WAY THE MUSIC SET AND SHOWED EACH BATTLE JUISFAHKJSAF, I LOVE NANCY SHOOTING AT VECNA UGH, SHE WAS SO BADASS

I CRIED SO MUCH WHEN MAX SAID SHE DIDN'T WANT TO DIE AND ALSO BACK WHEN SHE WAS IN THE SNOWBALL PART, HER CRIES WERE SO GENUINE, SADIE SINK DOING SUCH A GREAT JOB AGAIN

and now my thoughts on our beloved boy eddie's death

yeah i screamed and cried as twice as much, esp when dustin was holding him, like bro what, he can't die, i was saying it with dustin that he can't die and after that the disappointment, the unfairness set in, like steve got bit by a bat too but he lived, dont even get me started on max, IT'S SO UNFAIR, he had his MOMENT, IT WAS HIS YEAR, im just ugh really disappointed by his death, pretty numb about it, who knew one death could bring such a huge feeling of disappointment like the posts ive seen where brutal and really mad but i suppose they had the right since eddie had potential, him dying was unfair, it was just for shock value and it didn't really advance the plot unless they're using that for season five

the disappointment is really real, im really sad and beyond pained that it had to go that way, they're right eddie could've been kept around just like max and robin, we prayed for steve and robin too much, forgetting who we really should've prayed for but yeah im glad those two are alive, i feel really bad for his uncle though, his nephew missing, having his poster constantly vandalized then only told that he was dead ughh it's so unfair, i am in pain and i miss him already, i loved him like a child, he was amazing and fuckkk

RIP baby boy we will miss you

also i remember someone saying that if hopper and el reunite again and hopper says hey kid, they were going to lose it, i wonder how they're doing rn lmao

honestly im so happy that mike and hopper hugged, their relationship in season two was great but then forgotten and soiled at season three so yey

THAT ENDING THO WITH THE MUSIC AND SHIT, GOD I LOVE THAT

to be honest i really wish it ended with season four, idk this season felt like the end and for it to be succeeded feels wrong but all in all it was actually a great season finale, just eddie's death really did sour everyone's enjoyment, despite how i feel ill stick around because i love this show and am too attached to it, it's basically my comfort show

i have more to say regarding my favorite parts but i kinda forgot about them sorry, i watched the two in separate days

[kaijuscientists]

stranger things s4v2 spoilers under the cut

So we watched the episodes last night and i’ve been processing after being a little less upset.

yes, most of the rant is going to revolve around Eddie.

So my main issue is that Eddie died in vain.  His death ultimately meant nothing in the grand scheme of things.  It was only to prove to himself that he ‘wasn’t going to run’ this time. 

To be the hero instead of ‘the freak’

Bestie, you should have run it’s normal to run away from demon bats

And it’s all in vain, and in the end, he’s the only one of the main characters to die in the fight against Vecna. That is probably what pisses me off the most.  The duffers were saying “oh there is going to be five deaths, prepare to suffer cuz your fave is going to die.”  and most of, if not all of us knew that meant Eddie was going to be one of the five.  It’s obvious.  The duffers do not know how to create that tension with out introducing a character that is beloved (Bob, Alexei) and then killing them for the drama of it.

But when everything was said and done, none of the main cast was left permanently dead.  Max died, then El brought her back, she might not wake up, but shes alive.  Eddie just, bleed out in the upside down, with Dustin by his side.

All to try and stop Vecna from opening the gates.  And then Max died and the gates opened anyway.

So, Eddied died in vain, the thing they were trying to stop happened regardless and he really. did. not. need. to. die. 

I’d really but less upset if literally any of the other main cast had also died in the fight.  Like, max should be dead, i feel like steve, nancy or robin, one of them at the very least should be dead (if not all of them, why didn’t the vines kill them right away if vecna knew the plan and what they were coming to do?????). In russia, i was fully expecting one of them to bite it, most likely murray, but nope they all survived.

And then, after everyone's out of the upside down, no one even cares that Eddies’ gone?  No one mentions it, grieves over him? They didn’t think to tell Mike when he got there, that Eddie had lost his life in the fight? does annyone else in helfire care?

the only people that show any emotions of it at all are Dustin and Mr. Munson.  Everyone one else in town still thinks he’s a cult leader and a murderer.  I dunno, just feels wrong and bad that Eddie sacrificed himself for a town that hates him so much.

and i’m assuming they just left him in the upside down. 

He died for nothing and i’m just upset about it.

He just wanted play d&d and graduate high school.