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just-some-random-blogger · 2 years

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You're Not Cute

Pedro Pascal x Reader

Summary: i saw a fucking tiktok of pedro reciting shakespeare and i will never forgive him for not letting me lie on his lap while he strokes my hair and recites said shakespeare to me. i thought you were a feminist pedrito?! i trusted you pepe. fuck you (me).

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: gender neutral!reader, actor/actress!reader, reader has hair im sorry if ur bald T_T and whipped for pedro and reading this, established but not public relationship (shhh it'll make sense), pedro go to jail party, crack fic, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: we all know pedro pascal watches his edits, but i wonder if he's ever... read fics of himself 💀💀💀💀 hi papi! if you're reading this first of all why second of all i love you the tiktok in question that has me at gunpoint tumblr. look at this gif. this is your man??? this is OUR man? fuck off. ALSO I HAVENT PROOFREAD THIS COS I GOT CHORES BYE Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @amis-love-bugs @top1bbgloak @sunfairyy @djarinsstuff @mooniesyubi @pedropascalgirly @mmmmandoz

"Wooooweeee!"

My eyes dart from my reflection on the mirror to the grinning man who popped up from behind me. I turn to him just as he begins wiggling his brows. I make a face him as he narrows his eyes and snaps his fingers while trotting over to me, "looking good, mi amor," he rolls his tongue to mimic a purr and gestures like a cat, "RRRRRRRRRRR."

I roll my eyes at him as I chuckle, turning back to my reflection, "hands off Pedro."

He gasps in offence, raising his hands, "I haven't even touched you yet!"

I lean in to more clearly see the dark blue line I was drawing by my eyes, "ok then," I shrug, "sorry for assuming."

Pedro tilts his head and waves his hands, "apology accepted--" he moves forward until he was close enough to snake his arms around me, "--in form of touching you."

I huff at his shenanigans but do not fight him off. In fact, I lean into his back hug and rest my head against him as we both look at our reflections in the mirror. I motion to my face amidst my scrutiny, "is the eyeliner too much?"

"Nope," he kisses my temple then retorts rather seriously, "it's yas slay."

I make a face.

His serious expression only lasts two seconds before he explodes into laughter. I release a huff as I bring my hand to my face while he thoroughly enjoys his own stupidity. I release one airy chuckle before giving myself a final once over, deciding I looked well put together enough. He inhales deeply to catch his breath then sighs against me, "you smell soooo good."

"It's called a shower," I moved to elbow him off, "you should try it sometime."

I grunt as I struggle against him. I hiss when I feel his mouth on me, "PEDRO!"

He pulls back, all after managing to leave a wet bite on my neck.

Pedro recoils and raises his hands in defeat. I punch him on the chest before wiping his mark.

He sighs, "it's kinda hard to shower by yourself, ya know. I need some help. Also!" he points, "you're dirty now, you got a little," he motions to his neck, "dribble on you-"

"PEDRO PLEASE," I pinch my fingers together, "my interview is in like, ten minutes," I point at him and scold, "contain yourself. Stay in your room."

I begin to storm off and he watches, moaning like a baby, "you mean our ro-"

I feel him follow after me. I snap, "STAY IN YOUR ROOM!" halting in my tracks. I push him back as I grab the door knob. He gives me a puppy dog frown. I give him one last point before closing the door behind me on my way out, "stay here."

Alas. I was in the living room, with a laptop set up in front of me as I did my online interview. I was glad that my Pedrito followed my orders and stayed in the bedroom for the entire duration. Not long now before it ends.

I smile to the interviewers as they begin to wrap up our short segment. I, along with he two hosts from a live news channel, laugh at the closing remarks. Suddenly, I find myself looking out to my side when I see an incoming Pedro just about to pass by.

He was stretching as he walked. He looked like he managed a brief power nap.

Oh fucking shit, he's going to the bathroom. And he's going to pass behind me to get there.

"Now, do you want to invite your fans to watch your film?" the male host asks.

"Uhhh," I trial off, as I turn to my side, rather un-inconspicuously. Pedro was soooooooo close now.

I panic as I turn between my camera and my impeding doom, "uhhh."

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Aint no way he was about to pass behind me and expose us like this.

THINK! WHAT DO WE DO?!??!

If I say his name, they're going to know it's him, but if I don't they're going to ask who I'm talking to anyway, but if I ignore him, he's going to pass and reveal himself. FUCKKKKK-

And in the split second of panic, I burst out the secret fourth option, and quite possibly the worst one, "FUCK!"

Yeah. Everyone stops.

Cue, my string of panicked apologize, "shit, I'm- fuck, SORRY SORRY SORRY!"

I catch Pedro, just as he realized what he has just done, or what he was about to do, rather.

"Sorry," I cover my hands on my face, "Sorry I-"

The interviewers laugh at me as I recuperate.

I sigh, turning to my side, "it's- there's a ghost that lives in my house."

"Oh, wow, you live in a haunted house?" the female host chuckles, "how thrilling."

"Yeah," I turn back to my camera, "it's quite stressful."

The interviewers chuckle as I regain composure and wave at my camera, "anyway, the ghost in my house says go watch the film with your loved ones, with family, friends, and your house ghosts too. We all worked very hard on the film, and we hope you enjoy it as much as we enjoyed working on it."

"Right!" Pedro agrees off camera, making me tense in my seat. He adds rather weakly as we make quick eye contact, "right."

The male host laughs, "wow, your ghost is really excited about this film."

"The ghost is going to get evicted soon. I'm calling an exorcist." I force a smile.

Finally, we say our goodbyes and I immediately shut my computer before any other fiasco happens.

"Sorry!" Pedro says immediately once he drops to his knees next to me, "I had booger brain. I woke up from a nap."

I look down at his messy hair and remorseful face. He grabs onto my legs and continuously apologizes to me.

I roll my eyes at him and tilt his head up at me as I grab him by his dark hair, "apology with tears."

He pouts, "I'm really, really sorry, baby. My booger brain..."

I release my grip on him and he immediately sits down next to me and pulls me into him. He continuously apologizes and I lean into his touch, beginning to feel bad for how genuinely remorseful he was. Just a little. He's kinda cute when he's pathetic like this.

"Pedro it's fine," I say, turning to him, pecking his lips repeatedly, "nothing happened. The hosts played it off too, which was really nice of them."

I crawl onto his lap and embrace him. He sighs and embraces me back. I nuzzle my face into his neck and murmur, "weren't you going to the bathroom?"

"Hmm? No, I was going to make a sandwich."

I snort, "of course you were."

I pull my head back and we look at each other. Pedro rubs my back. An idea springs into mind. I smile deviously, "I have decided that your apology will be in a form of Shakespeare."

When I shift off him to lie on the sofa and prop my head on his thigh, he looks down at me with furrowed brows. He brings his hands to his chest, "is the genuineness of my remorse not sufficient enough for you?"

"No, Don John," I sigh, "hark to me. From the top. Much Ado About Nothing."

Pedro chuckles airily before gathering my hair and pulling it back so that he could comb through it with his fingers. He sighs, and I turn to him as he scrunches his face, "I don't fucking remember."

"Do the, 'I must be sad when I...' like, feel like it, or some shit."

Pedro throws his head back and laughs. He sucks in a sharp breath, "like," he says with his exaggerated LA accent, "I have to be sad when I feel like I need to be sad."

"Exactly! Do that part," I giggle.

He continues, "I also will totally not smile at your lame jokes," he purses his lips and makes a face.

"Wait, that's what that means?"

Pedro nods at me, "yeah that's what that means."

"I thought that meant, like, I'll cry when I want to and smile when I want to."

"Well," he caresses my cheek, "you're not too far off."

I wave my hands, "ok, ok, now do the rest, and do it properly this time."

He playfully growls at me, "well, it's kinda hard to do Shakespeare when this cute lil thing is distracting me."

"Do better then."

"I'd rather do you."

"Pedro."

"What? You started it!"

I roll my eyes make a zipper motion to my mouth.

Pedro clears his throat. He mumbles some lines to himself to jog his memory, "... sleep when I am drowsy and tend on no man’s business," he states in an exaggerated manner, "laugh when I am merry and claw no man in his humor."

I hold in a laugh as he raises his hands in dramatics.

"And then," Pedro calls, "Conrad says something but I can't remember what he says."

"Pedro!" I whine.

"What?! I can't recite something I forgot, now can I?" he replies, busying himself with brushing my hair again.

I cross my arms, "boomer."

"Yeah, but I'm your boomer," he says pinches my nose. I wrangle against his actions and sequentially sit up.

Before I could retaliate, a phone rings across the room. It takes a second for me to realize it was I that received a phone call. I go ahead and answer upon seeing it was from my manager.

"Hello?"

"What have you done?!"

I pull my head back at her tone, "uh... hello to you too. What do you-"

"Are you aware you have a mirror behind your sofa?" she says.

I make a face. What does that-

I freeze, expression dropping as I turn to Pedro and slowly then to the mirror behind my sofa. There's a mirror behind my sofa. I have a fucking mirror behind my sofa.

My manager hums at my silence, "so, you want to make a statement with the ghost in your house before people catch on, or-"

I sigh as my manager begins to run down the possible things we could do. Pedro looks at me in concern as I wipe my face in frustration.

"Yeah, okay, okay. Let me call back in a minute. Bye."

Once I hang up, Pedro shifts on his spot and raises his brows at me.

I purse my lips, "they could see you in the mirror, Pedro."

He knits his brows, "see me in the mirror?"

I raise my brows at him.

He tries to piece it together, "see me in the... OH."

"Yeah, oh. My manager already spoke to yours, and they want to know what we want to do before people start making memes about your ugly face in my fucking mirror."

Pedro gives a guilty look. He throws his arm on the backrest and drops his head on his shoulder, "I... could change my name on Instagram to 'Ghost'."

I roll my eyes, "not fucking helping, Pedro."

"NO! But I'm serious, I-"

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal crackfic #pedro pascal social media au #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x you

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santanasaintmendes · 1 month

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“crazy, crazy, crazy for you baby. . . ”

“what can I do honey? i feel like the colour blue”

wc!: 3.5k words + smau insta post (i just can’t write small fics im sorry 😔)

pepe martí x fem!reader

type: angst + fluff ending

warnings: mentions of barfing (not in detail), swearing, angsty, jumping out of a window (jokingly), embarrassing reader 😓 if there are anymore let me know!

summary: you and pepe have the cute teenage love most people would be jealous of, but with the two of you busy with your own things is it as perfect as it may seem?

requested by @cwafffle 💖

a/n: thank you so much for requesting this! I had an absolute blast writing it, i’ve never written something so intense lol anyways enjoy, I hope it’s as good as you hoped!

Love isn’t perfect, it’s something everybody knows. So surely loving someone should be worth hurting this much for . . . right?

Your relationship with Pepe used to be perfect, everything you’d dreamt of and more.

It wasn’t always like this, the hurting and the endless waiting for one another to meet the other half way. Although it may seem like a century ago, you and Pepe were once happy. Dating him was like a dream you never wanted to come out of. Pepe was your first ever boyfriend, the two of you attended the same high school in Barcelona where he was in your classes. Initially you never paid attention to him much, sitting on the other side of the classroom near the window.

But he took the crown whenever it came to popularity contests, he always had a bunch of people - mostly girls, following him around and by the looks of it he enjoyed it. Everyone knew how impressive he was at karting, by the time you were both 15 he was up and ready to make his debut in Formula 4.

The first time he ever spoke to you was when you were both appointed partners for a science project. “You’re Y/N, right?” a voice asked, sending your train of thoughts spiralling as you looked up from your textbook. Pepe stood next to you, peering down at you, eyebrows raised. You sent him a brief nod, “Yep.” you said awkwardly as he took a seat next to you. The two of you sat in silence as the teacher called out other students’ names. Slowly, you turned your head to look at the boy who was sitting beside you. You’d heard all sorts of things about the famous star of your school, Pepe Marti but you’d never thought you’d be partnered up to do a project of all things. His hair was jet black and . . . he had pretty eyes and-

Pepe must’ve sensed you staring at him because he met your gaze, “You okay. . .?” he asked. Your cheeks immediately flushed red as you cleared your throat, “Of course, I was just uh . . . looking at the plant behind you?” you stated, looking for the closest thing in your view. You could’ve died right there on the spot as Pepe turned to look at the plant you’d pointed out. It was half dead and withering brown.

He slowly turned back around, nodding slowly, “Um, okay.” he chuckled nervously. You would’ve jumped out of the window if you weren’t in class, he probably thought you were a weirdo now. You nodded along, playing it off very awkwardly. You cleared your throat, “Anyways, my place or yours?” you blurted out, your face twisting into horror as you realised what you’d asked, immediately wanting to dig a grave and jump in. It sounded so bad without context.

“What?” he asked, eyebrows raised in concern. “No wait. What I meant to ask was, do you want to do the project at my house or yours?” you could feel the heat of embarrassment creeping up to your cheeks. You just KNEW your face was tomato red as Pepe slowly nodded, “Oh. I don’t mind.”

You winced, as you turned to look out the window, almost wanting to cry of embarrassment. You turned back to Pepe, a forced smile plastered on your face. “Is my house okay then?” you asked, relief washing over you as you finally said something that made sense without embarrassing yourself. He nodded as the bell rang, signalling lunch time, he stood up sending you a brief smile. “See you this afternoon then.”

Surprisingly, when Pepe came over that afternoon to begin the project you managed to keep your cool. Turned out that he was pretty chill and a funny guy, the two of you began to crack jokes and it was like you both clicked. After that, people at school would stare at you as you both would be on the verge of tears from laughing, both lost in your own little world. You learned all about his racing career and his family. As the closer the two of you got, it finally felt like you’d found someone who understood you.

Pepe was by far the kindest and funniest guy you’d ever met and to be fair you’d never really been rather good with boys, but he made being his friend like the easiest thing in the world. You began to feel light and your stomach fluttery whenever you were around him, then it hit you like a whirlwind, you liked him.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to be swept off your feet like that, hell someone could open a door for you and you’d be thinking about it for months. But with Pepe it was different, it felt different. And you couldn’t help but wonder if he liked you the same way.

It was a peaceful November afternoon when Pepe invited you out on a walk, going on walks together wasn’t uncommon for the two of you. He’d just finished his first season of Formula 4 and he couldn’t have been in higher spirits. It hadn’t been a total bust and that’s all he could’ve asked for. There was just one more thing he had to do to seal the deal.

The two of you walked silently through the park, admiring the beautiful colours of the autumn leaves that slowly fell and twirled in the gentle wind. You looked over at Pepe who was staring at his feet as if he was nervous.

“You okay?” you asked, slightly concerned with your friend’s silence since he’d picked you up from your house. He nodded but didn’t meet your eyes so the two of you slowly walked in silence. It was getting weird, the silence, usually Pepe was the one who led the entire conversation, sometimes with even the most randomest things.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Nothing bad happened, right?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed in concern. Pepe stopped in his tracks and turned to you with an unreadable expression, he was making you nervous. He took a deep breath in as he locked eyes with you, “I like you.”

“I mean we’ve been friends for a while. I think it would be weird if you didn’t like me.” you chuckled but you paused when you saw his expression. OH. OHHHHH.

You felt like slapping yourself in the face, he didn’t mean it like that. He meant it in the way you’ve always wanted him to. Pepe liked you. It hadn’t fully sunk in but you felt like you’d been given laughing gas as you began to laugh uncontrollably much to Pepe’s surprise. This was definitely not going the way he thought it would as you gasped for air, holding onto him for support.

“You are really the weirdest person I know.” he murmured as you regained your composure. You smiled at him teasingly as you wiggled your eyebrows, nudging him playfully.

“But you like me.”

“I’m starting to regret telling you.” he grumbled as he folded his arms across his chest. You smiled at him, it felt like you were in a dream. If it was, you never wanted to be woken up again.

“It’s okay, I like you too.” you replied as you continued walking, leaving a wide-eyed Pepe gaping. He ran to catch up with you, “Wait, are you serious?” he asked, a giant grin on his face.

“Of course, I’m always serious.” you replied earnestly as you admired his dimples that stuck out with his smile. You were playing it cool but inside of you it felt as if you’d gotten struck by Cupid’s arrow, you couldn’t help but have a grin on your face.

“I think this is the part where you ask me out.” you whispered to him, he nodded playing along. “Oh right.” he cleared his throat before taking your hands in his, his gentle touch making your heart flutter as he looked into your eyes.

“Will you, Y/N Y/L/N, go on a date with me?”

You couldn’t help but engulf him in a giant hug, “Of course I will.” you whispered in his ear as he held you. If only you could’ve seen how giant his smile was.

The next few months after that were absolute blissful perfection. Being Pepe’s girlfriend was everything you’d ever dreamt of and more. He was a gentleman through and through. The first ever date he took you on was to a giant amusement park not too far from his house. The day ended with you puking a couple of times after going on the rides but nonetheless it was perfect. The two of you bought popcorn and walked up a hill to watch the sunset. That was when Pepe took you by surprise and kissed you, it wasn’t forced nor rushed it was everything you’d ever wanted.

Pepe soon moved up to Formula 3, his first year brought a lot of challenges and unfortunately wasn’t his greatest year. But you were there to comfort him everytime he wasn’t able to get as far as he thought he would. The second year was a huge improvement though with him winning two sprint races, one in Bahrain and the other in Monaco. Then came his first feature race win in his own country, he felt like he was finally flying.

As you continued in school, the time you both spent together became harder and harder to manage. It was just natural, when Pepe got into Formula 2 his career demanded that he fly further away and more often. You were occupied with your own things, you were studying International Relations and working on the side. Calls and facetiming became less frequent, neither having the time anymore. You selfishly wished Pepe didn’t have to be so far away, that he could be closer to home, closer to you.

But it wasn’t something you could control, you wished you could’ve just ignored how bad it was getting. That you could’ve told yourself it was fine and moved on, but it wasn't fine. You felt alone, and you shouldn’t be feeling that when you’re in a relationship, it didn’t take a genius to understand that. Pepe barely came home anymore, you always slept alone, you always watched movies alone, you always went on walks alone. Things you knew you should’ve been doing with Pepe, but the truth was that he was a million miles away. You knew you could never ask him to leave something he loved so dearly, you just wished that you were a priority in his life. To be the only thing he thought about, to be the thing that brought him home every week.

But the truth?

You’d never be a priority in his life as long as racing was in it. How you wished that you could be okay with his absence, okay with the fact that it felt like you weren’t even in a relationship anymore. You thought the two of you would be able to figure it out, that it would naturally fix itself but that just wasn’t how relationships worked. The thing about relationships?

That no matter how much you can ignore the cracks in your relationship, you’re both going to fall in, no matter what.

It had been a rough couple of months for you especially with Pepe flying all around the world for his next race. He’d texted- not called, you the night before letting you know that he’d be coming home this weekend for the first time in what felt like forever. You told him that you could pick him up from the airport but he insisted that you’d be too tired to, so you told him you’d wait for him at home.

Rain gently pattered against the windows of your apartment that was dimly lit by the lamps in your living room. You were on your computer working on your latest assignment, something you were finding trouble focusing on, all the words seemed to jumble up like they’d been barfed all over your screen. You knew what was distracting you, it was the fact that Pepe was coming home tonight, that you were going to do something you’d never thought you would in a million years. You were going to break up with him.

Just the thought made you sick to your stomach. There was a soft jangle of keys in the front door that made you look up. Pepe walked through the door but he was a couple months too late in your mind. He met your eyes and smiled, “Hola, hermosa.” (Hey gorgeous)

You hated the way he thought that everything was okay, almost like he hadn’t missed you as much as you’d missed him. “Hi.” is all you said in a flat tone. You remained seated on the couch, no more giant hugs or smothering him in kisses, only silence. You looked back at your computer that was still on and shut it. Pepe could sense something was wrong, that you were unhappy, unhappy with him.

“Everything okay. . .?” he asked gently as he set down his bags on the counter top. You stood up, “Are you seriously asking me that?”

Anger began to rise inside of you, you wanted him to know, to understand how much you were hurting, how much you were suffering alone in this relationship.

“I’m always serious, princesa.” (princess) he joked but his smile fell when he saw that you weren’t smiling with him.

“Don’t, don’t do that, you can’t just charm your way out of this.” you told him, “You can’t just pretend like everything’s okay.”

“I’m not, just tell me what’s wrong.” Pepe said defensively. You sighed, “You really don’t know what’s wrong, do you?” you asked him.

“Stop acting like I’m dumb or something, just tell me.” he persisted. You scoffed, pulling away from him as he reached out for you. The hurt in his eyes made you want to run out the front door and never look back.

“You’re never around anymore, you’re so busy with your racing that you barely come home anymore. It’s as if you don’t even live here anymore, we don’t call anymore when you’re away. You leave me here all alone by myself and expect everything to be fine, well guess what? It’s not.” you blurted out everything you’d been keeping in the last few months.

“Oh so it’s all my fault then?” Pepe asked, shaking his head as if disappointed. You took a deep breath in to steady your anger.

“I didn’t say it was all your fault.” you shot back angrily, folding your arms across your chest defensively.

“Yeah well it sure seems like that’s what you’re implying.” he scoffed, oh you just could’ve strangled him. How could he be like this?

“I wasn’t implying anything, I’m just telling you how I feel, but clearly you don’t care at all.” you raised your voice, your hands were already shaking.

“Don’t do that, Y/N.” Pepe warned but you were already too far gone.

“Do what?” you asked, “Do what, huh? This is all your fault, you were right.”

“Well maybe if being my girlfriend is too hard for you then you shouldn’t be it anymore.” Pepe shot back angrily. There was a long moment of silence as the words did their damage. No matter how much he wished he could’ve taken the words back and apologised instead, he couldn’t.

“Y/N, I-”

“You’re so fucking selfish, I wish, I wish that you cared more. That you actually cared about me enough to fix this. I wish that you loved me as much as I love you. . . but you don’t. I want to break up.” you told him, hot tears rolling down your cheeks.

“What?”

You took a deep breath in, “I want to break up.” you repeated. Words couldn’t explain how hurt Pepe looked as you told him that, you felt awful like your heart had been ripped out of you. But deep down you knew this had to happen, love wasn’t supposed to hurt this much. Love shouldn’t be one suffering whilst the other thrives. For once, you were going to put yourself and your feelings first no matter how much you knew it was going to hurt Pepe.

3 MONTHS LATER

liked by bestie1, bestie2, bestie 3 and 243 others

yourusername: life lately <3

tagged bestie1, bestie2 and bestie3

view 312 comments

bestie1: ❤️

user1: y/n’s first post without pepe i think i might die 😭

user2: sigh my favourite f2 couple

user3: i’m a child of divorce 😔

user4: ya’ll im confused what happened between y/n and pepe?

user5: i heard it was bad 😬

user6: they broke up bc of the long distance and some other stuff

user4: oh damn, i thought they were going to last

user6: didn’t we all

user7: i don’t think i’ll ever get used to seeing pepe without y/n

user8: they were the perfect couple, i mean high school sweethearts are u joking

user9: literally crying. it’s the onions its the onions

user10: goodbye i’m going to go jump off a cliff now

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3 was beginning to be an unlucky number for you, 3 letters in bad, 3 months without Pepe and somehow you still felt as shitty as you did when you broke up with him. He constantly occupied your mind, it felt like a giant chunk of your heart had been taken from you. You wished you could just move on from him, be okay and come to terms with the fact that you were no longer together. But some part of you refused to accept it.

It didn’t help that every instagram post you put up got flooded with comments, both good and bad, mostly wondering why you and Pepe had broken up. It wasn’t any help at all, all of it just a torturing reminder of what you’d lost that night.

God, you missed him. You missed the cute spanish nicknames he’d call you, you missed his touch, you missed when he would drop you off at university everyday and pick you up when the day had ended. But most of all you missed how he made you feel, feel like you mattered.

You were walking home, the spring offering nothing except bad hayfever in your case. The day was finished and another exhausting day of uni was over. You climbed the stairs up to your apartment, when you and Pepe had broken up he was the one who moved out.

You unlocked the front door and let it swing open, greeted with nothing but silence. The apartment seemed so empty, so dead now that Pepe was gone. You wish you could hate him more, blame him for everything but that wasn’t right because you knew you were just as at fault as he was.

You placed your bag down on the kitchen bench and slumped down on the couch, groaning loudly as the doorbell rang. Who on earth would be at the door? You wondered as you got up, you weren’t expecting anyone, none of your friends had made any plans.

You opened the door, half expecting it to be your friend but you were rendered silent as Pepe stood in the hallway. The air in your throat got sucked out as you stared at him, you couldn't fight the fact that you wanted to kiss him right there and then. Apologise over and over again, because the truth was that you wanted him back.

“Hi.” you finally said, as you looked up at him.

“Hi.” he breathed as if he was out of breath, did he run up the stairs?

“I ran up the stairs, that’s why I’m puffed.” he explained, you nodded slowly unsure what to do with that information.

“But I’m here to. . . to say sorry,” he admitted, “I said awful things to you that night and you were right, as usual. I didn’t see how badly I was breaking us apart, it was selfish and I should have never let you walk away. Because fuck without you I don’t know who I am. If I could take back what I said I would, but I can’t so I’m here trying to do the next best thing and apologise. I don’t expect you to forgive me so easily because I wouldn’t either but just know that if you let me I will do everything to make up for the lost time and everything I wrecked.”

You stood in silence, fighting the urge to pull him by the collar and kiss him. And well, that’s exactly what you did. Lips on his, you kissed him, making up for all the lost time you’d been without him, it wasn’t perfect but it was a start.

“You’re crazy.” you murmured against his lips as you pulled away, pulling him into a hug. As he held you it felt right, it felt like home.

“Crazy for you, baby.” he grinned, and it was true.

Fin ~

a/n: I hope you enjoyed! have an amazing day xoxo santanasaintmendes

#Spotify #formula 2 imagine #formula 1 #f1 smau #f2 smau #formula 2 #pepe marti #f2 fanfic #f2 x you #f2 x reader #f2 imagine #f2 angst #f2 fluff #f2 fic #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #xoxorequests 💖

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hannahlovesluca · 10 months

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Hi!!Can i ask for LUXIEM(or just ike) hcs with an s/o who's just insanely good at suika or puyo puyo even though they just played the game once or twice?:D

i had to write this ASAP i love writing ab reader playing games LMAOO

Luxiem + S/O who’s good at Suika

�� he’s mediocre at suika, so normally he wouldnt join any tostus while the other is playing (i hardly see him join totsus in general so-)

• however if its YOU whos hosting any kind of tostu or just anything, HES JOINING INBA HEARTBEAT

• yk how he is with ike? all simp-y and always looking for a way to spend time with him? yeah he does that to you too

• anyway, when he sees you get 3000+ points your FIRST TIME PLAYING

• his face: 😧

• he probably doesn’t believe that its your first time LMAOO - you probably have to prove it to him off stream somehow

• if you’re his kouhai: “y/n, i’m your elder you can’t be embarrassing me like this…”

• if you’re his senpai: “…you know what they say; the elder, the wiser.”

• “oh god, please don’t bounce up…” “PLEASE BOUNCE UP FOR THE LOVE OF GOD” - guess which one is vox

• anyway, afterwards, he’ll probably force you to watch him play fnaf afterwards so he has sone sort of pride in being able to out-do you somehow

• the mf sings to try and distract you to get you to mess up

• change. my. mind.

• “country rooooaaaaadssss, take me hooooooooome, to the plaaaaaceeee i BEEEELOOOOOOONGGGGG”

• getting 3000 first time hes just like ?????

• probably has that one face with the wide eyes and mouth wide open (like that one clip of sonny during the game show off collab w/ noctyx)

• and if you’re like him and start spewing nonsense to focus better, he’ll be laughing so hard

• “hey, chat, do you think anal hurts that bad?”

• “what???”

• if you have his fugi on your head whilst streaming he’ll probably pretend to punch it now and then just to get a reaction out of you

• mf is okay at suika but not like terribly amazing

• that being said hes rooting for you and will probably be so amazed at you repeatedly getting over 3000

• if there ever is a point where you’re malding he’ll either - A: Mald with you - B: Laugh his fucking ass off

• “WHY THE FUCK DID IT BOUNCE UP TO THE TOP?!?!”

• “LMAO AHAHAHAHAHABSISHWHAHA”

• definitely literally says “lmao” if you fail

• will bring up the most random things to talk about!!!

• “y/n have you seen that food theory video where he tried to cook his steak in the dryer??”

• “luca wtf are you talking about?”

• if you recently had an off collab he’ll also be telling embarrassing stories about you

• “[insert fan name] did you guys know that Y/N eats their oatmeal dry?? like no water.”

• anyways all around, hes amazed and he probably sends you a sweet discord message after stream

• “you’re so good at suika!!! :D”

• FOLLOW UP MESSAGE: “ew that was cringe ignore that”

• he just sucks at suika so hes just like: :0

• “y/n??? this isn’t like…pre-recorded?”

• “DO YOU NOT TRUST ME, IKE??”

• im running out of ideas for them uhhh

• when you get over 3000 your first try hes genuinely so amazed

• say he has a zatsu the next day, if someone superchats him about the totsu the night before he’ll go on a rant about how jealous he is that you’re so good at Suika

• “yeah, Y/N is like Shu and Mari with Tetris, they need to teach me their ways.”

• “an akasupa! ‘honest opinions on Y/N?’ Good question!”

• and then never elaborates

• uhhhhhh

• will most likely start bringing up either super philosophical topics to talk about or it’ll end up just being about miku

• LMAO IMAGINE YOU START TRASH TALKING IKE BEFORE HE JOINS THE TOTSU AND HE JOINS OUT OF PETTINESS???

• “yeah- so ike sucks at this game HAHAH-“ *ike joins* “SAY IT TO MY FACE”

• as soon as you sent the message you were doing a totsu he reacted to the message with that pepe side eye emote they have in the NIJI discord

• probably doesn’t join first, he waits for others

• LMAOO IF ITS HIM AND CLAUDE ITS GONNA BE CHAOTIC ASF

• claude: “y/n how do you feel about patriotism?” shu: “frick the patriarchy” y/n: “????”

• but, if the other leaves and its just you two, since hes pretty good at the game as well, he’ll probably help you with where to drop it

• and again, like luca, will probably bring up random topics

• and ligma jokes

• lots and lots of ligma jokes

• will also send messages in the discord server like:

• Shu Yamino: “y/n is too good someone plz trash talk them”

• Shu Yamino: “oh frick y/n’s good”

• LMAO PROBABLY TWEETS TOO

• Shu Yamino 👟☯️: y’all cant compare what the flip is this

notice how luca and ike’s are the longest

#luca kaneshiro #ike eveland #nijisanji en #luxiem #shu yamino #mysta rias #vox akuma #luxiem x reader #ike eveland x reader #luca kaneshiro x reader #hannahlovesluca

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hauntingkiki · 3 months

Note

HIII!!! can i request venture wedding hcs? how would their wedding be like with reader? How would they feel while getting ready?

IM CRYINGGG OMGG

SOMEONE PLEASE REQUEST A WEDDING ONESHOT SO I HAVE AN EXCUSE TO WRITE IT🙏🏻

Venture x Reader Wedding Headcanons

OverWatch

2nd POV

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

- let’s just start this off by saying; BABY IS STRESSING OUTTT!!

- they’re about to marry their best friend. YOU! the most BEAUTIFUL GIRL/PERSON IN THE WHOLE WORLD

- when they’re changing into their suit/with their groomsmen (a few guy colleagues and some of their guy family members) sloan is getting pep talks and words of encouragement from everyone in that room. not a single bad vibe is in the room!

- wedding theme!: whatever you want it to be. a classic, white wedding? you got it! gothic/vampire? hell yeah!

- ^ but! with your choice of theme; sloan also has some huge crystals (that match the theme ofc) that they’ve gotten from expeditions for table decoration!

- the location was kinda on sloan, they picked where they wanted to have the wedding BUT! they made sure YOU were okay with it before making it the finalized decision. if you didn’t like the location, don’t worry! they have like A MILLION MORE

- everyone in both of your families helped pay for the wedding (if needed), like your parents paid for your dress/suit and sloan’s parents paid for their suit

- when they were at the alter, they were sooo nervous, their hands playing with the rings on their fingers and the bracelets that were around their wrists to calm their nerves

- but when you walked down the isle with your father/father figure, all their nerves just melted away.

- you looked so GOOD in their eyes! their heart was racing, their eyes got watery, their face got hot (they cried) (you did too)

- your vows were pretty standard (if there’s spanish vows then yall did that too!)

- but when yall had your first kiss; you know this sucker dipped you into the kiss, twirling you like in those cheesy romance movies (LIKE IN TANGLED AT THE END)

- and now the reception.

- for the food a verity of sloan’s family meals and your family meals, most of them being hand made to avoid a lot of cost

- alcohol/champagne obviously. all the adults are either drunk asf or tipsy (if you have family who smokes/does drugs, it’s totally up to you if you want that in your environment!! i will not be saying anything about that because it’s very different for everyone)

- the younger kids who can’t drink get something fizzy! like apple cider or something!

- father daughter/mother son dance to whatever song you’d like:)

- sloan did a mother-child(son) dance to songbird by fleetwood mac OR mi cariñito by pepe aguilar

- first dance! sloan could not stop smiling like a fucking idiot, they were SO IN LOVEEE

- you both shed a few tears during the dance (and through the night)

- you two slow danced to (options because i can’t pick)

i only have i eyes for by the flamingos

unchained melody by elvis presley

here, there and everywhere by the beatles

bring it on home to me by sam cooke

amor eterno by rocío dúrcal

- everyone was BAWLING THEIR EYES OUT

- then the music played for the dance floor and it was some great songs! like;

september, earth wind and fire

i wanna dance with somebody, whitney houston

how sweet it is, james taylor

something stupid, frank n nancy sinatra

crazy in love, beyoncé

uptown girl, billy joel

rude, magic!

every little thing she does is magic, the police

and obviously some other songs!

- (FOR THE GIRLS/PEOPLE WEARING DRESSES) yall know the garter toss? where the groom goes under the brides dress to get it off all ‘sexy’ with the most embarrassing song on the planet while your family watched?

- yeah. yall did that.

- obviously with no littles present (14 and younger went somewhere else while this was happening)

- the song? pick your poison

get low, lil jon & the east side boyz

yeah!, usher

earned it, the weekend

let’s get it on, marvin gaye

grind with me, pretty ricky

- ^ COMPLETELY RANDOM, I WAS LOOKING FOR SONGS FOR THE GARTER TOSS AND THE PINK PANTHER THEME STARTED PLAYING…AND WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS BY QUEEN I CANT

- sloan definitely used their teeth to take it off, probably also got a little carried away too; kissing your legs and running their hands up and down before snapping back to reality when their mother literally SCREAMED at them for being under your dress for almost 5 minutes

- after the wedding, the two of you got to your hotel/air bnb and just relaxed, got out of your fancy outfits, took makeup off, showered (together LMAO) and just got comfy!

- you both just kind of talked about the night and what you wanted in the future and other things:)

- let’s just say you two didn’t get a lot of sleep afterwards😳

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

did i just write this all in one sitting? yes. yes i did.

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED!! THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE I LOVED IT!!

would you guys be interested if i made a wedding playlist for the (hypothetical) oneshot?😳

#fanfic #reading #request are welcome #requested #overwatch #characterxreader #overwatch2 #venture #venture overwatch #venture ow2 #venture x reader #sloane x reader #sloan x reader #sloane cameron #sloan cameron #headcanon #hauntingkiki

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httpiastri · 6 months

Note

AAHHHHHEERRRMMM

ALSO PEPE IN A SUIT WHAT THE FUCK??!!!!!??

he looks soo fucking good😽😽😽😽😽😽😽😽

i just wanna bite him🤞🏻🤞🏻🤞🏻🤞🏻

anyway im okay🤓🤓

PEPE IN A SUIT!!!!!!!!

he is SUCH a goodlooking boy, i cant take it. like. what. even. ?!?!!!! glad to hear that youre apparently okay but how does he expect me to be okay after seeing that???? theres just no way

#just a little munch? please pepe?? 🙏🙏#its all im asking for #also!! darling!!! i got your alonso!reader ask and i will answer it but #im going off to a handball thing rn so i cant write longer answers and i rlly wanna write something longer about that 🤭🤭🤭🤭 sooo #im sorry for not answering it rn 💔#(same goes for the ask 🎀 anon sent me but idk if theyll see this shsjshsj)#but i loved it so much omfg????? your brain omg so big #such a good idea i screamed #🫶🤭🥰#asks!#alexandra <3

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scottyzoomz · 6 months

Text

WEST SIDE STORY ROLEPLAY SIGN UPS

So, my friends has a blog called @ask-tony-wyzek and @ask-riff-lorton. Those are the only west side story character blogs (from what i have seen), and yknow, it's getting kind of boring.. so if you wanna be a west story character this is your chance !! This is just for being fun and being silly, the rumble hasnt happened yet and it's just an au where the Jets and the Sharks are just still arguing on whose turf it is. No killing has happened, Tony, Riff and Bernardo is still alive, . And OC's ARE ALLOWED !!! Fanon ships are allowed, Oc x character is allowed too !! just PLEASE dont make it weird/illegal. be logical, a 1-2 year age gap is fine but dont make it illegal. so far we have RiffxTony (im sorry for those who i have offended do not harass me just for a silly fanon ship if you don't like it, kindly scroll this doesnt hurt anybody.) AND THOSE WHO KNOWS ANY ACCOUNTS LIKE THIS OF THE WEST SIDE STORY CHARACTERS PLEASE TELL ME I WOULD LOVE TO INTERACT WITH THEM !!! Jets ( those who are taken have a blog ) Riff - @ask-riff-lorton Tony - @ask-tony-wyzek Ice - Snowboy - Baby John - @ask-baby-john Action - @ask-action A-rab - @ask-a-rab Tiger - Joyboy - Big Deal - Mouthpiece - @ask-mouth-piece Gee-Tar - Anybodys - @ask-anybodys Diesel - @ask-deisel Numbers - Balkan - @ask-balkan Little Molly - ----------- The Girls in the Jets Graziella - @ask-graziella Velma - Clarice - Tessie - Debby - Hotsie - Pauline - Luna - ====================== ( these are all that i found on the Sharks wiki so these not might be accurate, feel free to put your headcanons on these characters ) Sharks (note: who nicknames their friend anxious what???) Bernardo - @ask-bernardo Chino - @ask-chino Pepe - Indio - Luis - Anxious - Nibbles - Juano - Toro - Moose - Quique - Chago - Braulio - Pipo - Julito - -------------- The girls in the Sharks Maria - @ask-maria Anita - @ask--anita Rosalita - Consuelo - Teresita - Francisca - Estella - Marguerita - ====================== The OC's in the roleplay !!<3 The Jets - @ask-scotty - @ask-hops - @ask-mizumi - @billie-jones - @ask-birdie-baletti

--- The Sharks none:( AGAIN. THIS IS FOR FUN!!! YOU CAN JOIN AS AN OC !! If you have more questions please feel free to go to my ' Ask Me Anything ' or in my dms. !!! Feel free to reblog:)

#west side story #roleplay sign ups #west side story 2021 #ROLEPLAY !!!!#wss #wss:roleplay #wss 2021 #musicals

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jo-harrington · 2 months

Text

Solamen. (An As Above, So Below Story)

Gratia. Charitas. Solamen. Grace. Charity. Peace. The oath of the Knights of the Holy Order.

Summary: You and Eddie--separated by time and endless suffering--don't realize how many strings keep you connected on the web of fate. What players are there trying to cut those strings? And when will you both find out that they are unbreakable?

Word Count: 8k

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!OC (The Knight - Written in 2nd Person POV - You/Your - No Use of Names of Physical Descriptors)

Warnings/Themes: Soulmates, Kas!Eddie, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Grief, Minor Character Deaths, Manipulation, Transformation, Corruption, Violence, Gore, Disturbing Imagery, Philosophical Ideas, Supernatural Encounters, Religious Elements, Criticism of Religion, Biblical and Other Literary and Pop Culture References

Note: Special thanks to @somnambulic-thing for listen to me as I tied myself into a knot with all of my Pepe Silvia string and helping me untie it all. Love you so very much.

AND IM NOT GONNA TAG HIM BECAUSE HOW EMBARRASSING but thanks Mike Flanagan for the "a ghost is a wish" line that I absolutely ripped off.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

"That's just the heart talking, you can never trust those. Pick a more stable organ to listen to, like the spleen, or the gallbladder." - Joan Tierney

November 6, 1983

Eddie woke to something tugging at his leg, pinching the flesh between deft fingers, but not piercing the skin.

Then whispers.

Unintelligible whispers that moved about him fluidly, like a wave. Maybe it was a wave because a sudden flood of memories, both good and bad, rushed over him; nightmares perhaps? They almost didn't feel like they were even his, but he knew that they were.

Driving the van for the first time, his first campaign as a DM, your first kiss.

He felt as though he was underwater.

Underwater, something biting him, tear-filled words as he lay dying in the desolate waste of the Upside Down.

“Eddie, wake up,” you whispered frantically in his ear.

He heard his own voice then. Or a memory of it, at least.

I don’t like this Chrissy, wake up! Flashing lights, snapping bones, and a sickening wet crunch.

He gasped as his consciousness slammed into him heavily, the remnants of fear from his past life ripping through the din to bring him back to the waking world.

The memories of falling and crashing soon followed and he observed his surroundings.

A crater.

It was the only way to describe the pit he’d created upon impact. A large divot in the ground with a lip of toxic earth and his body curled at the bottom, and as he forced his body to crawl out of it, he saw the spray of soil that had rained over the surrounding landscape.

And what a strange landscape it was.

Empty.

There was nothing as far as the eye could see in any direction. Just a flat, silty plain and a roiling, lightning-filled sky.

There were no creatures, no trees...he couldn't even see Hawkins, which he recalled flying over before he'd been struck by, well, whatever that was that knocked him out.

He'd been soaring over treetops, calling out to the bats to join him.

How had he ended up in such a vast emptiness as this?

The whispers returned, a ripple of them that shifted and moved around him, the source invisible. He growled instinctively, hackles raised; was someone or something trying to intimidate him? The rebellious beings that turned against their master? Had they learned a new trick?

Or was this something else? He already had one invisible enemy, one pest that tried to undermine Henry at every turn. Was this trap by your design?

The whispers closed in on him--he could feel them even if he couldn't see them, in numbers immeasurable--and he roared in warning, spittle flying from his mouth as his jaw unhinged, and the chittering blast of sound echoed into the void space.

He startled when your lips caressed his ear and the weight of you settled against his back, arms winding around his neck to hold him back.

"We need to go," you warned him, but he just hissed at you.

The whispers got louder, closer. From the din, he started to make out voices. Familiar voices. More memories. Talking to him, begging him.

Chrissy at the picnic table.

Patrick calling him a freak in the hallway.

Mr. Newby excitedly telling him about a new stereo he saved up for a year to buy.

They all chanted his name, just like you did. It swirled around him.

Eddie, Eddie, Eddie help us. Please help us.

"Eddie listen to me," you tried again. "We need to go."

He roared again, and felt triumphant when the whispers went silent.

But there was one last whisper, one more phantom, that was bold. Brave. He felt it walk right up to him. Tall, proud, toe to toe, nose to nose; it stretched to match his height.

He growled to intimidate it but felt it square itself resolutely. You tightened your arms around his neck, almost to hold him back.

"Don't," you told him, but it was too late.

He slashed a claw outwards to try and bat the whispering phantom away. He cut through it and felt the whoosh of air between his talons.

And must have been a trick of the light, a trick of the mind--one of your tricks--but there was a flash of a reflection of his own eyes right before him. Staring into his soul.

He blinked and it was gone.

You tightened your grip, then sighed and sunk through him, into him, back into the pit once more.

He was about to gloat, about to taunt you--he wasn't Eddie Munson anymore, he wasn't going to fall for your little games--but it was cut short as a roar that rivaled his in strength and volume echoed from just beyond the horizon.

Determined, he took to the skies again, ready to put an end to whatever other tricks you orchestrated so he could return to his master, victorious.

November 14, 1986

When you came to, you were on the ground.

Not tied up or restrained in any way.

In fact, when you finally got a good hold of your senses, you realized you weren't wearing any clothes either.

"What the...what the fuck?" You startled yourself into a sitting position and looked down at your faded Maidenform bra and Hanes Her Way underwear that you got on clearance at K-mart with Eddie oh so long ago.

You jumped as he suddenly appeared before you--the anger at your unconsented state of undress forgotten--ghastly and ghostly, looking like he did when you jumped into the passenger's seat of the van. Smug smile, love in his eyes, hair mussed from too much headbanging.

"Did you get me anything?" his voice echoed. He wiggled his fingers like he had when he tried to peek inside of your plastic shopping bag, where you did indeed have candy for him.

You didn't even have a chance to wrench your eyes shut, so shocked that you were to see him there, before he vanished.

Your heartbeat roared in your ears as your breathing became rapid and shallow. Your eyes darted around to try and find him once again, as though he'd simply transmuted somewhere behind you--you were used to his vanishing acts...his unseen presence, but this? This was different—you knew that immediately—but found yourself alone.

Alone in a cold, dark room with only the moonlight above to illuminate the dirt floor and dead ivy that climbed the stone walls. You could hear the chittering of bugs and flapping wings of bats in the dark; creatures of unknown origin lurking in the darkness, waiting to strike.

You realized where you were rather quickly--

The vision that the boy had shown you. The cell. The Harrowing.

--and knew that you needed to find a way out immediately.

The witches had already gotten some sort of advantage by capturing you; you wouldn't let them kill you too. You would die on your own terms when you were good and ready.

You shifted to a kneeling position and reached down to let your hands scrape along the dirt floor. You cast yourself forward, consciousness seeping into the Earth to try and find a break in the stone. You knew there must be a door here...it was just too dark to see.

"Show me," you demanded.

"Show you?" Another voice rasped from the shadows. "What's the use when you refuse to look?"

It was not Eddie's voice this time, and pain lanced through your chest, directly into your heart as you recognized it.

Your eyes watered as you fought the urge to look up, as a figure leaned into the moonlight in the corner of your eye. Grey hair, weathered skin, a delicate golden crucifix around her neck. You knew your Nonna wasn't there; no, you watched them put her body behind a wall. Felt a part of her soul settle there, to rest, for eternity.

You didn’t look up, steeled yourself for the fact that even though it sounded like her, it couldn’t be her. She was gone. She was dead. As much as it pained you to acknowledge.

Nonna was gone. Eddie was gone. You were alone. And no one was going to save you here unless you saved yourself.

You shook and dug your fingernails into the dirt, demanding the very stone around show you the way out, all while Nonna's phantom spouted chastising words, about how you never listened to her when she told you to pray and repent and thank God for this and that.

"Your eyes can deceive you," you muttered aloud as a reminder. "Don't trust them."

Nonna inched closer and closer to you, and your breath hitched as you felt the softness of her hand as she reached out and cupped your cheek. You shut your eyes and leaned into it for a moment; it felt just like her hand.

Gentle but calloused from years of labor, you swore you even felt the indentation in her fingers from the beads of the rosary she usually had clutched in her hands.

Maybe if you wished hard enough…

"Tesoro…amore…prayer won't help you here," she tutted.

You grit your teeth in anger and clenched your hands, nails splintering against the hard ground. Your eyes opened to stare straight ahead of you into the darkness.

“My grandmother went and saw Star Wars with me in the theater, you know.” You spoke with as much confidence as you could muster. The softness of Nonna’s hand vanished, as did she. “She was well-versed in the ways of the Force.”

You stared into the darkness, unblinking, and waited.

And waited.

Finally the darkness broke and a heavy wooden door opened, creaking inwards towards you, until light cascaded into the cell and revealed a man with slicked-back hair and elfin features. His eyes were like fire as he stared down at you, hatred and challenge burned there.

“You’re stronger than you look,” he sneered judgmentally. “Many minds have been broken by this place.”

“What do they say about tv melting your brain?” you spat right back at him. "I've watched too much; my mind is already gone."

He chuckled darkly.

“I wouldn’t know such mortal mechanisms as…teevee.”

“Oh you’re one of those kinds of witches.”

“Warlock,” he corrected. He was one of those kinds of men too. You wondered, disgusted, if he stripped you of your clothes himself to get a kick of your potential humiliation. Or if even that was above him. “And what might you be?”

“I’m a pain in the ass,” you smiled mockingly. “You should have just slit my throat if you wanted to kill me. Or is that too much of a mortal mechanism too?”

He swiftly lowered himself to kneel in front of you, black clothes billowing, and grabbed your face in one hand. His sharp nails dug into your cheeks viciously, drawing blood if the telltale pinch was anything to go by.

You felt him pull truths from you, information ingrained in your blood--Jinette, the Knights, the curse, your mission, Edward Spellman. It might have alarmed you, how easily he was taking it, but it was such a simple trick.

Two could play at that game.

You watched and waited as his eyes became unfocused, as he lost control taking thoughts and memories from you. Then, when he was nice and distracted, you reared back and punched him across that sharp cheekbone and nose, putting all of your heavenly force into it.

He let go of you at the impact and fell to the side, but you got what you needed. A little bit of blood smeared across your knuckles.

And then you saw.

The man--Faustus Blackwood--the Church of Night, the Academy of Unseen Arts, the Witches of Greendale and their historic persecution, the Dark Baptisms. And at the epitome of it all...two figures standing head to head…

A roar outside the door of the cell broke you from your thoughts and you froze, knowing.

Blackwood abruptly got to his feet and spat blood at you as he sneered, "I would kill you for that...but you’re worth more alive than dead, unfortunately.”

He stormed out of the cell without any other hesitation, and you were alone again.

Waiting. Anticipating.

There was no need for intimidation tactics really, but he apparently had an affinity for drama.

He stepped into the light and you saw the cloven hoof on one leg, the very human-like torso draped in a billowing black cloak, and the goat-like head with ears that twitched as he laid his eyes on you.

You had to admit, your emotions spiked a little bit at the sight, and as the door to the cell slammed shut behind him. Fear, confusion, annoyance, and that ever-present feeling of grief.

Maybe those were just the things that made you up as a person. Instead of joy or anything l truly good. He brought them right to the surface; not like you could lie to him.

Well, you were probably not as afraid as you should have been. You knew that. And he did too, as you swore you heard a snort from him.

But it wasn't every day that you faced your fate.

It wasn't every day you found yourself face to face with the Devil.

"Took you long enough," you greeted.

November 6, 1983

He flew for as long as he could and then pushed himself to fly further, following the massive roar until it became the constant din of roars and chitters and screeches--many beasts voices combined to form one.

He flew until he found something again in the barren void in the outskirts of the Upside Down.

It was surprising to find that there wasn't even a blue tinge to the sky anymore out here, but instead a dingy yellow hue. Glowing and golden, with, what he believed to be, shooting stars soaring across the murky atmosphere. Where he'd gotten used to order and obedience in the mirrored version of Hawkins, this...this...was wild and untamed.

It was full of possibility and promise.

For a brief moment, deep down inside, right next to where you resided in the pit, curiosity bloomed.

Was this the potential that the Upside Down had when it wasn't wrangled and tethered by Henry? Was this the potential that he had?

He snarled at the intrusive thought, sure that you were the cause of it; he needed to focus, to stay loyal to Henry. He had a job to do here; he had to restore order.

He powered onwards and soared over a crowd of creatures on the uneven ground below. They were emaciated and writhing, howling and digging and fighting.

It wasn't like the playful or bored fights he witnessed at the quarry; this was a survival of the fittest. Limbs were ripped off, throats torn, blood shed. And the winner had the explicit honor of absorbing the writhing mass of parts that the loser left behind.

Off in the distance he could see the partially formed behemoth of a creature. No life breathed into it yet, just a lump of meat with one leg here and a malformed head.

Images flashed in his mind, courtesy of Henry, of the Mindflayer forming from citizens of Hawkins. Their flesh melted to form the beast, just like his brethren below melted into one another to form a new Mindflayer.

Just like they'd sacrificed themselves for his new form.

He felt electricity deep within his flesh, his bones, his wings as like called to like.

He couldn't help but feel some sort of betrayal; its origins were unknown and he couldn't quite discern what the feeling meant.

Was it a betrayal of the creatures who used to believe Henry to be their leader, who sacrificed themselves for him?

Or a betrayal within himself? The pieces of him that had been graciously given knew that he was a part of their flock, their swarm...the blood that kept his heart beating and his hunger at bay was the same as theirs...but he'd chosen Henry over them...

"Is that what they feel?" your question echoed within him, radiating from the depths of the pit outwards, to the very tips of his talons and back. It shook him to the core. "Or is that what you feel?"

However, he ignored you as he dropped to the ground, dry earth cracking beneath his feet, and let out a deafening, screeching cry to bring the mass of creatures to order.

The hive mind was still unavailable to him--to all of them, it seemed--but he was still the strongest of them all, the most dangerous predator. They all stilled at his call, like a shockwave radiating outwards from him.

He turned on his heel, glaring at the massive congregation of creatures. Some of the dogs pawed at the ground; the petal-like heads of the demogorgons opened and closed at will, blood dripping from the thousands of teeth embedded in their maws. He didn’t need the hive mind to know what they were thinking, considering; he knew what it looked like when they were gearing up for an attack.

He snarled at them all, chastising them, warning them...

One warning; it was all they got. Just like his uncle used to tell him.

But one stupid creature got the courage to challenge him and it roared, a shrill sound from somewhere beyond his line of sight, and the others soon followed. Until he was surrounded by another cacophony of sound that caused the air to vibrate and the ground to rumble.

There was safety in numbers; he knew. He could overpower them individually without much trouble, but against the sheer mass of them? Could he win? Could he survive?

He dug his heels into the ground, tucked his wings tightly against his body, and hissed, accepting the challenge.

He silently apologized to Henry as he considered that this would be the most fun he would have in the Upside Down since he and Dustin had their…

His thoughts were cut short as one of the dogs raced towards him, mouth snapping, ready to strike. Only for him to strike first, claws cutting it to ribbons, easily tearing through its flesh until it thumped, dead in pieces on the ground around him.

Its comrades were soon to follow, a whole pack of them, and they got their pound of flesh out of him, biting and dragging their teeth into him. They sent his black blood spilling onto the ground with the wounds they inflicted. He powered through the pain, knowing he would heal.

What was pain to him when he was reborn of pain? When Henry had inflicted unimaginable agony onto him only to build him back stronger again?

He picked them off his body one by one, like the vermin that they were, cursing their betrayal—they had been his friends, his family in this new life—as he tore them apart.

More attacked, until it was an endless barrage of bodies and claws and teeth looking to tear into him, which resulted in what could only be described as untethered carnage. When he tired, he stoked his hunger by drinking deeply from the wounds he inflicted on them, taking his fill until he was ready to keep fighting.

He was filled with the determination to keep going until the last creature was dead at his feet, and he would have...he would have done it...

If only he hadn't looked up at the sky.

And saw it looking back down at him.

November 14, 1986

Your vision blurred and the devil's visage wavered in and out.

From goat, to that of a man with beautiful, sculpted features and dark curls. Back and forth a few times, smiling ever so gently at you. Finally he decided on the image of a man for his temptation of you.

Funny that he wouldn't make himself look like Eddie or Nonna again if he wanted to do that.

The cell door slammed shut and he sat beside you on the ground; he said your name carefully, as though he was tasting a fine wine for the first time.

"You're a funny little creature," he observed with a chuckle, dark undertones accentuating the depth of his accented voice. "My own disciples fear me but you...hmmm...you fear something else, I think."

"You don't spend much time on Earth do you? A Mongolian Death Worm is scarier than a Goat Man," you reasoned.

The corners of his eyes crinkled in amusement.

"You fear yourself." Your expression fell and he held a hand out innocently. "It's ok, I feared myself too for a time. After I was cast out of Heaven. My father and brothers feared me, so I must also fear myself. But I came to find that I was just...willful, and they didn't like that one bit."

You thought of Gabriel and his annoying stoicism, how he tried to keep you aligned with what fate had in store for you.

"Yes, you seem to be exceptionally willful too." He hummed in agreement, as though he could hear your thoughts. Maybe he could. "You and your forebearers. That's why you've found yourselves in the predicament you're in."

He leaned closer to you, his nose practically touching yours. His image wavered once more, and you smelled the brimstone on him. Much heavier than it had with Edward Spellman.

"That's why you've found yourselves doomed to an eternity with me," he smiled amicably and then slowly leaned back. "Why not let it be on your own terms."

Your eyes darted between his, and you questioned whether or not you could trick the Devil, if you could win against him in this game.

And if you did, would he just strike you down in retaliation?

"What do you get in return?" you asked.

"Another soul devoted to me," he said simply. "Instead of one I'm forced to punish. I really like it when mortals pray to me; the power is actually quite nice."

He took a deep breath in, shoulders squaring as he lavished in some unseen dark power. Then he exhaled and squinted at you.

"I'm being merciful, you see, because, I win either way; you're still mine, in the end. But isn't corruption fun? The hellfire tickles when it touches you instead of melting the flesh off your bones like it's currently doing to dear old Dad."

His eyes narrowed further when you didn't react.

"Or to Eddie."

You must have visibly reacted, some kind of shudder or blink that made him relax and smile again.

"See, that got you listening," he nodded self-assuredly. "I can smell the stink of grief on you.”

You gritted your teeth at the pang in your heart; Eddie…he wasn’t in Hell. He couldn’t be.

But how could you be sure?

“And denial,” He continued. “Faustus could too, actually, and he's not the brightest bulb in the bunch. He doesn't have nearly as much power as he likes to pretend he does. He's losing control of his own congregation. They don't want to listen to him. No wonder you didn't fall prey to his torture either. No matter. You're here with me now."

The edges of the cell suddenly became alight with flames, a circle of them that trapped you and the Devil together.

They were not of this earth; you knew it immediately as they licked at your bare skin, but you gritted your teeth to the singe of pain that shot through you, refusing to move closer to him.

"Now, dear girl, what do you want?"

He tilted his head, and the motion felt strange and distorted. Contorted as it seemed to tilt further than a human's range of motion would allow.

"Do you simply want this curse gone? You can continue doing your good deeds on earth if you want, save the innocents. I don't mind. Oh that's a good bargain actually. Innocents slaughtered by darkness go to heaven; if you save them and they live to sin on their own, they'll end up with me. Let them suffer a little less so I can enjoy hearing them scream a little louder."

The longer you stayed near the fire though, the louder you heard screams of the damned from within it.

"Maybe you want revenge on those who put this silly curse on you in the first place. Your bishop friend hmm? Or whatever he is. We both know the dark deeds he's involved in."

Something wicked twinged within you, deep down in the little dark spot inside your soul. Your lips quirked as he projected images of Jinette screaming as you burned him alive.

You shook your head, physically trying to rid yourself of the thoughts.

No. You were good, you could break this curse yourself and you could still save people and you could make it to heaven. To Eddie.

"Ah, see, my mistake. How could I forget? How good is all of that," he asked knowingly. "When I'm forgetting something important? When there's something more delicious I can offer."

The devil's projections changed then. From revenge and damnation...to all of the decadent moments that you had with Eddie and then lost because of this stupid curse.

You whimpered at the thoughts, at the way they plucked at your heartstrings. Kisses and laughter and every secret, sweet moment between the two of you.

"Do you want your little boyfriend back?" he whispered. "The two of you could live forever with red vines and cherry pie and Dr. Pepper until the end of time. Immortality is something I offer all my disciples."

You felt your resolve weaken and tears built up in the corners of your eyes as you saw the two of you frolicking through the world until the end of the earth itself. You and Eddie and forever. You could almost reach out and touch it.

But how could he offer that to you if Eddie was beyond his grasp in Heaven. He had to be in Hell, as much as it destroyed you to believe.

"All you have to do," he held out his hand, "is say yes."

It would have been so easy to reach out and touch his hand, to ignore all of the red flags and to accept this offer. It was easy for all logic to leave you, all rational sense that you had. It was so tempting and you were so...so...tired.

But there was a small bit of movement in the corner of your eye, and you broke eye contact with the devil to see what he might have to show you now...only to find Gabriel there, hands held behind his back. He looked bored, like he usually did, and you almost felt smug at him having caught you like this.

You were tired. You were human. You weren't meant for these grand plans that fate had in store for you, that God seemingly had for you.

"Have you come to scold me?" you asked him wearily. "Or save me?"

"I'm here to prove that you still have much to learn," Gabriel sighed. “Very much to learn, it seems.”

Yes, you did...didn't you.

You snorted and hung your head in shame, finally allowing the tears to fall.

But the devil...the devil narrowed his eyes at you and turned to follow where your line of sight had been.

"Who are you talking to?" he asked with a snarl.

You scoffed and lifted your hand to gesture towards Gabriel.

"Surprise!" you exclaimed with faux excitement. "Family reunion."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, head darting back and forth between you and Gabriel.

Or rather, just left of Gabriel.

You watched as his head turned in confusion, as anger built up inside of him and the fires roared hotter, as his image darted in and out, in and out. Goat then man then something else...just a shadow.

Like the shadow that you'd seen in the woods.

You sniffed and wiped at your tears as you put two and two together. All of the inconsistencies that you ignored in the devil's stories, the misuses of names and symbols in the Academy, and now this...the fact that this so-called Lucifer--an archangel--might not be able to see Gabriel.

Devils lied, demons lied. They tricked and poisoned minds and hearts. They still had power and promises; this one had a whole slew of followers. He was their deity in one way or another, spoke as though he believed himself to be a fallen angel. Maybe he was a prince of Hell in some capacity, some pretending parasite whose ambition was the throne of the damned.

But was he the Devil himself? No.

None of these beliefs were as straightforward as they seemed; the universe was a riddle that you didn't have time or care enough to solve.

You also were a little rusty on your Lesser Key of Solomon.

Had he even known these things about your curse? About Nonna and Eddie? About your father and your knighthood? Or had it just been a simple skimming of your thoughts? Maybe even Blackwood's thoughts when he'd read your memories through your blood.

You thought back to the information you tried to ascertain from Blackwood in return.

A vision of this Dark Lord and Edward Spellman, some sort of disagreement between the two of them. Perhaps this devil was trying to get someone or something on his side to overcome Spellman's challenge.

That's all it took for it to click in your head.

Then you got angry. At this devil for his tricks, at Jinette for putting you in this mess without sufficient warning, and most of all…at yourself for falling for it all.

You looked back at Gabriel, unable to admit that you’d fucked up.

"Ok but you could have just saved me you know," you snarked at him instead.

Gabriel’s mouth quirked in his rendition of a smile. Some pseudo expression that made him seem human for a fraction of a second.

"It'll all make sense one day.” It was said the way a parent would to a curious toddler. Gabriel looked away from you to some middle distance, through the wall of the cell, and then gestured at the devil. "Would you like to take care of this?”

You rolled your eyes at him then pushed yourself to your feet, much to the protest of the devil, who simply conjured more hellfire to try and burn you alive.

You let it singe you, let it touch your skin to ignite the fire of your own. A spiteful, smiting fire, much like you had emitted the day you found out Eddie died.

"And if I told you he was alive?" the devil asked, shrinking away as you raised your hand to banish him. "Eddie. He's alive."

You hesitated but shook off any effect his lies had on you.

"Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue," you quoted and then leant closer to him to whisper. "That's Shakespeare, if you wanna tell your friend Blackwood to experience some mortal things before I come knocking again."

The hellfire licked at you again and from it you sparked a pure and holy flame, and with the heat and pressure of a supernova, the Witch's cell was consumed. All the dark corners were illuminated, the evil spirits that lurked there expelled, and you heard the devil scream as he was sent back to the depths of Hell once more.

You were alone when the fire dissipated.

Gabriel was gone.

Even Eddie’s ghost didn’t dare show himself, and you were grateful.

Your footing faltered and you fell against the wall of the cell, grateful for it to be over. You took several deep breaths before the pain and weariness in your body—in your soul—got the best of you.

Then you cried. Deep, gut-wrenching sobs echoed in the stone chamber, as you wrapped your arms around yourself to try and self soothe. This moment was for you. It was full of mourning and self-hatred and fear and relief that you hadn’t given in in that moment of weakness.

Your respite didn't last long, however, because the door to the cell creaked open again. You startled and scrambled to stand tall, confidently, unwilling to let the witches get the best of you again.

Only to find the kind eyes of Edward Spellman on the other side.

November 6, 1983

He stared in confusion, ignoring the bites and slashes from the masses around him, as the pair of eyes became more tangible in the rolling, smoky clouds up above. A flash of lighting was a blink...or maybe a glint of curiosity in their gold-and-shadowy depths.

Just eyes. Nothing else.

It was a curious thing.

They watched him.

And he watched them back.

It would be easy to blame you for this, just like he'd tried to convince himself to blame you for the whispers. But you were silent; no gloating or even warning.

Actually, if he paid attention, he could hear you hiding in the pit, little prayers being muttered fearfully.

There was a surge of protectiveness that shot through him at the realization that you were afraid. He figured that as annoying as you were to him, he'd really never seen you affect the rest of the world in many more ways than plucking the strings of his guitar. Conversely, the world shouldn't affect you either; your warnings were for him and him alone. If he ceased to exist, so would you, right?

So why did those eyes scare you? And why were they watching him in the first place?

His head fell to the side in a confused tilt and the eyes seemed to blink at him.

He snarled and the eyes blinked again.

Then in the distance, the proto-Mindflayer shuttered to life and squawked. It was a sad and pathetic sound, and he would have laughed; however, in response to the cry, the army of creatures that had taken up arms against him screeched in tandem. They released their holds on him, their jaws becoming loose so they could contribute to the flurry of sounds.

Louder and louder until it was a deafening wail.

Until it brought Eddie to his knees.

He was not meant to kneel.

That was the first thought he had; Henry had made him to tower over his enemies, to intimidate them before he slaughtered them. His servitude to his master was not by force, it was willing.

He'd given up so much for a chance to live.

Given up his soul.

"Heaven," you muttered sadly inside of him before delving back into prayer to your non-existent god. He growled at the thought, at your incessant murmuring deep within him.

Eddie Munson wasn't going to heaven; it was a laughable thought, actually.

He struggled back to his feet, feeling like he was underwater again with the weight of a thousand oceans on his shoulders. He steeled himself against the wails and the screams, the whispers and the feelings they all drummed up inside of him.

He'd chosen this.

This was his path.

And nothing would make him deviate from it.

Not you, not some would-be-usurping monster made from the parts of recalcitrant beasts, and certainly not some eyes in the sky that made him doubt himself.

He closed his own eyes to the world, closed himself off from all of it; he even tried to close himself off from you, but he couldn't escape you no matter how much he tried, so he just ignored your words. He would deal with you later.

If some meddlesome minder thought that tricks could be used to turn him against his master, he could use tricks of his own. A trick Henry himself showed him--whether he intended to or not--through the Hive Mind.

It started as a spark, not in his heart or in his fingers...in his mind. He envisioned it. Red and crackling, like the lightning that illuminated the skies of the Upside Down. The skies of his home. So different than the lightning that crashed up above and made those eyes blink and wink at him.

Red like a glowing ember.

Red like blood.

Red like his guitar, the vibrations twanging through him as he plucked the string.

He harnessed those imagined vibrations, imagined lightning, and then cast it outwards from him.

He felt the devastation before he heard it or saw it; just like the static wave that had cut him off from the collective consciousness, his attack on the beasts stunned them, then shocked them.

Eviscerated them.

Every wave of electricity he cast was full of emotion, as though he was purging every human feeling he didn't think he had anymore. It was retribution and pain and justice; grief and regret and loneliness. And when it all poured out of him, when the wails stopped, he opened his eyes to an empty battlefield.

The bodies had turned to stone and then the stone had weathered into dust.

There was a rumbling overhead and Eddie looked up with a wretched, wicked, victorious grin.

Henry would be proud of him.

The eyes blinked again, and then lightning crashed from the clouds that made them up, right down onto the ground before him.

One bolt after another. Never touching him. Just dotting the ground with craters.

Like teardrops.

Until the skies roiled once again and the eyes disappeared.

All with one last whisper on the wind.

"Help me..."

November 14, 1986

Mr. Spellman--Edward, he insisted, but you simply refused--escorted you out of the Witch’s Cell and the Academy of Unseen Arts and then took you back to Greendale.

“In a car,” you observed as he led you to his vehicle.

“How else?” He questioned with a furrowed brow and then reached into the backseat to grab a lovingly-crocheted shawl to hand to you. "I'll return your belongings to you once I find their whereabouts; Faustus was only protecting our congregation when..."

He faltered with his words, and you knew that he was trying to find an excuse for something that might otherwise be inexcusable.

"It's alright," you stopped him and took the shawl. You wrapped it around your bare shoulders. You pulled it around you tightly and inhaled; it smelled like aromatic herbs with an undertone of...formaldehyde? "I understand. Maybe, uh, the stripping isn't necessary next time he tries to catch and torture someone huh?"

"Would you believe it if I said that it's a tradition?" he offered apologetically. "Those who make a deal with the Dark Lord often see it...almost as a rite of marriage."

He laughed as you wrinkled your nose in distaste.

"Maybe some traditions need to change," you challenged him.

He gave you space and time, several days actually, to rest and heal and recollect yourself before he invited you to his home--a mortuary, which would explain the formaldehyde--to discuss your visit to Greendale. You shared your story, willingly this time--about the Knights and the Holy Order and about your curse--while he shared stories about the Church of Night and the Academy, about their beliefs and how he constantly pushed to know more, believe more.

Then you both discussed how you might work together to ensure you'd never need to come back again.

"It's a great meeting of the minds," he exclaimed, more enthusiastic than you might ever be. "A meeting of worlds."

You couldn't deny him that enthusiasm, especially when he'd been kind enough to welcome you into his home. His sister Hilda even brought tea and cookies for the two of you. But you knew that Jinette and the Order would probably kill you if things didn't change in Greendale and soon.

"A meeting about the demon you worship or the kids who are dying at the Academy under your watch Mr. Spellman," you policed him.

You weren't even surprised when he agreed with you.

"You mentioned traditions needing to change. The Harrowing isn't even one of our most archaic traditions but it is one of the many traditions that I'm keen to abandon," he explained, scribbling something down in a nearby journal. You didn't ask what some of the other traditions the Church of Knight kept; you knew that you probably wouldn't be too keen on them either.

But he seemed genuine enough.

"As for the Dark Lord," he continued. "I've known for some time that he isn't really Lucifer Morningstar. But it wouldn't do for me to try and convince anyone of it. What else is there to drive our beliefs? I suppose plenty of things but...to change an entire system takes time. Besides...well...it's all relative, isn't it? To us, your deity is The False God. No matter how much hope and comfort he gives you."

You knew that Mr. Spellman was generalizing...but when was the last time God had ever brought you comfort? Had He ever?

"Maybe He is The False God," you agreed. "Maybe neither of them are truly worthy of any worship; they all have their flaws."

"Knowledge is knowing that a tomato is a fruit," he quoted.

"And wisdom is knowing not to put it in a fruit salad," you finished for him with a snort. "My boyfriend says that all the time when he and his friends play DnD. He..."

And then you caught yourself, and Mr. Spellman caught you too. He watched you with a knowing gaze.

"He..." you frowned. "He..."

"He came with you to Greendale," Mr. Spellman finished for you. "Even if you don't want to admit that he did. He goes with you everywhere. Doesn't he?"

"He does."

"When did he die?"

"Back in March."

"And do you want him gone?"

"I think," you paused and wrung your hands together.

What a strange question for him to ask...but it still got you thinking. Was it better to carry this grief with you for the rest of your life? To carry his ghost with you everywhere you went? Clearly, if your time in Greendale had been an indicator, Eddie and your grief could be used against you.

But what was the alternative? Being alone? You knew he wasn't there...but wasn't he there?

What was a ghost, but a wish...

"I think," you finally continued with your answer. "Eddie is a part of me now in a way that I can never ever...I don't even know if recover from is the right phrase. I don't think I even want to recover from it. He's going to be a part of me until I reunite with him again."

"In Heaven?"

"In Heaven. Or in Hell."

November 6, 1983

Eddie returned to Henry, triumphant.

It had been a relief once he'd returned to Hawkins and the hive mind seemingly clicked back into place. Henry had been the first to greet him when it did, demanding to see him in the flesh and, hopefully, celebrate such a big victory.

But when he opened his mind to his master, fully intent on letting him see everything--

The self-cannibalism of the unruly creatures, his destruction of them and finally, you deep down in the pit within him, whispering into his ear the whole time.

--Henry, surprisingly, did no such thing.

There was pride, but also boredom. He would see that his request was fulfilled, but beyond that? Well what good was praise when success was the expectation.

"Rest," Henry groaned and then settled back into his own convalescence, without much care to the state of his beast. "You will find battle again soon; for now, rest."

Eddie twitched apprehensively at those words, at the dismissal, as he took to the skies once again to follow his master's orders.

But something was missing. He needed answers, he needed to deliver a full recount of the incident, he needed to ensure that this would never happen again because he knew the consequences would be dire.

He was Henry's right hand; why didn't his master want to ensure he was successful. His reaction had been beyond trust; it had been indifference.

Deep down inside of Eddie, a little voice spoke.

Did it matter whether Henry cared or not? He was successful, that was all that mattered.

But what was the point of being successful if not to receive some sort of praise? He would surely be punished if he had failed.

But if he had failed, he would be dead. And he would have deserved it.

And if he had died? Would Henry have batted an eye?

He was just a thing. Henry's weapon, his sword, his beast...and if he lost...good riddance...if he lost, he was weak anyway...

Eddie roared when he landed at his destination--the trailer--inundated with all of the doubts in the world. Frustrated, because they didn't come from you, they came from himself. That voice...that was his own voice. Not yours.

His doubts in his master were his own.

But where had they come from? Why? Why now?

He was suspicious of their origin, especially since you were practically non-existent in that moment. In fact, he hadn't heard you since his return. Since he'd decided to reveal your existence to Henry.

The feelings of betrayal within him must have been because of you, even inadvertently.

"Come here," he screeched at you, clawing at his own chest almost an attempt to carve you out physically. "Answer me!"

But there was nothing.

Rage stoked, he stormed through the trailer and resumed the rampant destruction that he'd abandoned oh so long ago. Walls demolished, belongings broken. He would move heaven and earth to get you to respond to him, cause as much of a ruckus until you came to bother him once again, insult him.

Then he would...what? Strike? He couldn't strike you, couldn't kill you, couldn't be rid of you, even if he tried.

And then, in the depths of the destroyed trailer, he came to his guitar.

The guitar had started it all, hadn't it? The first time he'd played it was the first time you'd materialized. That was the first time he'd felt like Eddie Munson in an eternity.

But he wasn't Eddie Munson anymore.

He reached out a claw and plucked at a string, hoping that would get you to reveal yourself once again.

Twang.

There was a ripple.

Twang.

A disturbance in the pit as you clawed your way out of him once again.

Twang.

You were silent as you manifested, unseen, beside him.

It was silent for a while, as you both languished in the presence of one another. Eddie in the silent truth of your existence, you in the turbulent rage of his.

Until he finally spoke.

"What did you do to me?" he questioned.

He watched as the guitar sting plucked itself by your invisible hand, that zzzz of your fingertip against the texture of the string before the twang.

"How did you do that?" He didn't need to elaborate, he knew you knew what he meant.

It was easy to put the blame on you, for all of it, even though he knew he felt your fear in the wastes at the outskirts of the Upside Down. You'd been just as in control as he had been.

"We both know," you spoke into his ear, into his heart. "That wasn't me."

"But you are doing something," he rasped. "Trickster, fiend."

"Friend," you corrected him.

There was a pang where his heart should be once again.

But you were more than friend, weren't you. You were a part of his heart, a part of his soul--

He roared at the thought and lashed out, trying to claw at you futility, but you disappeared again and he felt you materialize across the room.

"I don't know why you're angry," you taunted him. "Because big bad Vecna didn't pat you on the head. The Eddie I know wouldn't accept such mediocre prizes."

"I'm not Eddie anymore!" he screeched and this time he didn't lash out at the space where you seemingly existed. Intangible and invulnerable.

No, instead he lunged for the symbol of you, the last symbol of his humanity.

The guitar.

He raked his claws down the metal of the strings, shearing them into pieces. He pulled the neck of it from the body, stomped on it with heavy footsteps.

The more he destroyed his previously beloved instrument, the more he envisioned your destruction. Just like he'd vaporized all of the betraying comrades, he imagined that he'd vaporized you. Each atom turning into dust, into smoke, the more he destroyed this last piece of Eddie Munson in existence here in the Upside Down.

It was quiet when all was said and done, and he let out a victorious wail to celebrate that silence.

He huffed and chuckled and dropped to his knees in relief that he was finally rid of you.

Finally.

But he felt the phantom weight of your arms circling around his neck, the pressure of your body against his wings. You softly caressed his cheek.

"Are you done? Did that feel good?" you mocked him.

A whimper escaped his throat and you sighed sorrowfully.

"I'm sorry Eddie," you nuzzled against the side of his head, breath caressing his skin and ruffling his hair. Even if you weren't really there. "But you're not getting rid of me that easily. I will always be with you."

“Real hauntings have nothing to do with ghosts; they have to do with the menace of memory.” — Anne Rice, Queen of the Damned

#aasb #as above so below #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #Eddie Munson x oc #Eddie Munson fic #stranger things fic #kinda badass of me to use an anne rice quote on my fanfiction

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