#mid December wip

[elevatortherapy]

"Then show me what you call a "miracle!" My sword will show its true nature!"

[certified Cursed Amulet Moment]

[artemiseamoon]

You can get excited 💕 I’m wrapping up damage control in December (hopefully by the second week) then this one is up next. I already have chapter two and most of three written (rough draft) 💕

Fic: Tell Me No Lies

Marcus Moreno x Deianira (Nira)

Chapters

Prologue || One , two , three , four , five , six

Previews & teasers

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Drabbles & oneshots from this universe

When the clock strikes midnight

Am I the Villian

Picking Sides

Fic Inspired by this prompt

…

Cast

Marcus Moreno

Deianira aka Nira our supervillain

Lucas “one-eye” Thorne - Villian (yes my bb Mads)

Miracle Guy

Etc

Marcus x Nira gifs

x , x , x , x

[nekumiho]

scrambling on a last minute addition to this order im gonna make soon

feeling kind of ok about them so far :)

[fantasticalleigh]

WIP GAME!

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigued them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Lol this is where I get caught out for being unorganized as fuck

I was tagged by @rogueimperator ! I'm gonna borrow your idea of breaking this down by fandom

Harry Potter: Dramione

Sweet Sacrifice

Dhr Mff entry: (this is the original file I wrote the Sweet Sacrifice one-shot in. As we all know I couldn't leave well enough alone and I became so obsessed with the story I kept writing for it and now it's over 300 pages and messyyyy. I got scared of it crashing so I started dividing chapters into their own files again lol

SS chapter 11 (no title yet)

SS future chapter ideas

What We Know of War (technically abandoned for now though I would love to revisit it some day)

Chapters 1-8 all in one file (I abbreviate it to be faster WWKOW)

Bridgerton: Penelope Featherington/Colin Bridgerton (aka Polin)

Gently Bred

*All in one file again, loosely divided into suggested chapter cutoffs but nothing concrete yet.

Star Wars: Reylo

Untitled so far

*Medieval Reylo fic. All in one page again but not enough material for one chapter yet.

Genuinely don't know who to tag for this but if you see this and want to do your own PLEASE feel free! I am shamefully unaware of how many writers are among you and would love to hear about your WIPs. <3

[teagica]

time to spoil more stuff for my big project because I really want to share it! but it’s not done yet!

[you-are-my-neverland]

looking back at all my old story ideas...why are they all so fire

[the-french-belphegor]

I finished my rewatch/relisten of the Vox Machina campaign in mid-December (although I recently re-embarked on the second half of the Chroma Conclave arc hoping season 3 of TLVOM will be announced (released?? 🤞) by the time I reach "A Bard's Lament"). Predictably, I bawled, AGAIN, but by then I'd already been scribbling and sketching ideas for this for... a couple of weeks? Hence the little WIP preview last month.

I'll never shut up about this moment. It's just as beautiful as it's heartbreaking, in- and off-game, especially taking into account all the context of characters/people involved.

Also, bonus, because after I finished sketching that 6th frame I thought a hug was needed.

"You broke my heart." and all of ours as well 💔

(edit: added image descriptions. I apologise for not thinking to do it sooner!)

[taegularities]

heaven to you (teaser) | myg & jjk (m)

Summary: A casual hook up morphs into a fierce fever dream when roommates slash best friends Min Yoongi and Jeon Jungkook bring heaven and hell to you – all at once, in one single night.

➳ pairing: Yoongi x reader x Jungkook ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ genre: kind of fwb, threesome, college au; fluff, hella smut ➳ warnings: lmfao buckle up, there'll be quite a few warnings for this one :') yoongi and oc are fwb, teasing, flirting, kissing booth stuff, jk wears glasses and has long hair (manbun beloved), yoongi and jk are both so cocky :'), but so is oc, sexual tension, mid-sex convos, threesome ofc, dom yoongi n jk, explicit sexual content, such as double penetration, degradation, spit stuff, manhandling,.. (will expand on this once the full thing drops – but it's a whole lot 😄), they do some weird ass stuff during sex lol but it's such a fun piece, aftercare, valentino yoongi and ck jk!! THE ENDINGGGGG LMFAO ➳ est. wc: 12-15k 😁 1.5k for the teaser!! ➳ a/n: so :’) this had been in planning since? december? i knew i wanted to do a lil something for the milestone, but that lil something turned into… whatever demonic hell this is LOL. back to the ruin you days, i guess. am super excited for this to finally drop. gonna give y'all the best version of it possible, love you <3

MASTERLIST | WIPS | TAGLIST

No matter how fatigued you feel, you’re determined to see this thing through.

Today’s event might have tired you out, but Yoongi’s tongue was quick to bring you back into the land of the living. You’d never admit it to him, but no college responsibility could force you away from the sins he always offers to you.

And two rooms from here, he’s waiting to send you down that spiral again.

You shudder in excitement.

You lift your body off the toilet seat and wash your hands; one last glance into the mirror as you crack your joints. You’d put a gym session into tomorrow’s schedule, but tonight might just serve as exercise enough.

Deep breath in, you step out with strengthened enthusiasm. You brace yourself for whatever’s to come, but what you don’t expect is the presence awaiting you outside the bathroom.

Your fingers halt over the door handle; a light smile creeps upon your face when you see him leaning against the wall.

Eyes shift from bottom to top slowly.

He’s gorgeous. Sculpted and tall. One of his legs is angled, heel against the wall; so you see how thick and strong his thighs are even through his baggy joggers.

And you don’t think he had his hair in this damn bun before; it presses against the wall. Combined with the glasses on his nose, he emanates some type of… innocence.

But you know Jeon Jungkook. And he’s far from the purity you’re so foolishly perceiving right now.

His head moves when he registers your light steps, meeting your eyes so nonchalantly that you trash all prior thoughts of innocence once and for all. You don’t ask what he’s thinking or what he wants. You assume he was merely waiting for his turn to enter the loo.

Jungkook’s plans for tonight, different from yours, probably consist of taking a good shit, seeking a filling meal and drowning in a good night’s sleep. That’s what you think, at least.

But as you move across the hall and towards him, he doesn’t walk past you, doesn’t target the bathroom.

Instead, he keeps looking at you.

And something in his gaze suggests that he’s not quite done talking to you; something of the awkward conversation in the living room still remains. 

Yet, he doesn’t speak.

So, you do, “What?”

“Hm?” he voices, a head tilt suggesting surprise, but you know he’s fucking with you. “Nothing. Was gonna pee.”

“Right.” You don’t move from your spot yet. Fold your arms under your chest. His pupils flit down for a second and then up to your face again; weirdly proud, you press your tits up some more. “Then go.”

“Alright, boss,” he rolls his eyes at you, pushing past you with a light brush of your shoulders, “I’ll go.”

And he does. Doesn’t mean you trust him. So you remain and wait.

Wait a minute longer. When he comes out, you’re still standing there.

He doesn’t look surprised. Just trudges towards you with half damp hands in the pockets of his sweats, sly smile on a pretty face until you speak and it drops.

“Was that off putting to you? You really don’t want it?”

There’s a rapid upward movement of one of his eyebrows, and he feigns the confusion perfectly as he asks, “Want what?”

“To join us.”

He puffs out a mocking laugh. Looks to the side, enough for you to admire his chiselled features. A jaw as sharp as a razorblade. Mole on his neck. Wanna kiss.

Then, he asks, “You were actually serious? Like, you still are?”

“Do I look unserious to you?”

Your blinking is supposed to be cute, but he doesn’t fall for it. You clench your jaw; you know he doesn’t want to reject you. You see it in his movements.

So you try, “Or are you just not made for it?”

Which seems to trigger just the right amount of ego in him. Because he laughs again, forming a circle with his lips, and lets out a little, “Ohhh,” as though you’re challenging him. Which, in some ways…

Before you know it, his scent wafts towards you. Soapy, pleasant. He’s close enough to trap you — which, to your surprise, he suddenly does.

One arm on each side of your head, he closes in. Your head moves immediately, your gaze set on his colourful tattoos. When you look at him again, the infuriating, lopsided signature smirk makes your eyes roll — a coping mechanism in a situation like this.

You won't reveal that the sudden movement sent a shiver down your spine, or that you held your breath for a moment possibly long enough for him to notice.

So eye rolling it is, disguising the wavering self-control as annoyance when he explains, “This wouldn’t be my first time, babe. Yoongi and I don’t mind sharing.”

His breath is warm, minty. Did he chew gum before?

You gulp.

“But,” he continues, tilting his head; you nearly expect him to kiss you. But he doesn’t. “You’re not exactly the type of girl I usually fuck with.”

Not his type of girl, huh?

Rude.

“Why not?” you ask. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs his shoulders.

You see your reflection in his glasses — so far, you seem composed. Though less when he says, “You like leaving people and things broken. You get bored fast.”

Ouch. You wish he was lying.

It’s not like you do it on purpose. People catch feelings fast — you don’t. You make your intentions clear; the times things broke weren’t because you intended them to.

But…

You’re surprised he knows about this at all. You know Jungkook isn’t one to do feelings either; Yoongi told you. Perhaps he’s divulged your philosophies, too.

“So do you,” you answer.

“You got bored of Yoongi really fucking fast, too.”

“Not true. I’m still here.”

“You are now. You haven’t been for quite a while, right?”

You silence. What the hell does he mean?

Bewildered, you stare at him; if he wasn’t surrounded by this odd mystery, you’d push him away again. But he wants to rile you up, and you know you can take a lot more than that.

When you don’t answer, he pulls away, tugging back one or two escaped hair strands. Your eyes follow as he secures them behind his left ear, adorned by two earrings.

But when he raises an eyebrow in question, you awaken again, assuring him that, “You don’t have to. Yoongi and I can just do our thing and you… I don’t know. Have a good night, I suppose.”

You nod once and then push your body off the wall, glad you’re not sandwiched between it and Jungkook anymore. But before you can escape into your friend’s bedroom, a strong hand pulls you back.

You gasp, not anticipating the bold grip, flashing a glare to the veins on the back of his hand as you ask, “What? Didn’t mock me enough or—”

“You won’t ask again?” he has the audacity to inquire.

“You can’t be serious,” you scold, eyes wide. You can’t get out of his hold, so you don’t try just yet. “I’m gonna go. He’s already lighting candles or whatever.”

Jungkook chuckles. “As if. He doesn’t do that shit.”

“True,” you admit, “well, but he is waiting for me. Was waiting for you, too.”

“For me, huh?”

His grin is dorky. The following pout even more so. Horny moods make him cocky, but you remember from every other time you saw him at their dorm how freaking annoying he was.

A likeable annoying, you must admit. Capable of sweet smiles and funny jokes and absolute dumbass behaviour.

Like now.

“Awwh. Man, I saw him just this morning,” he says, loosening his grip around your wrist, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I understand if you missed me, but he really didn’t have to.”

You grimace. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah. Just so you know, when you call someone an idiot, you—”

“Alright. I’m leaving.”

Which you do. With absolute confidence.

Throwing your hair back and moving your hips. But what you also do is look back once you’ve taken a couple steps, nodding into the general direction of the bedroom. 

Granting him a boost of confidence as you give into his wishes and ask again.

“Are you coming or?”

“Uhm—”

“Isn’t that why you wouldn’t let me go?” If he rejects you now, you’ll walk away. End of story. “Or why you’re looking at me like that.”

He doesn’t answer. Caught red-handed.

He seems to contemplate it. Is eyeing you carefully, amused beyond imagination. What a delightful expression.

One last time, he thinks aloud and says, “You’re acting badass now, but that will backfire. And you will burn yourself.”

“So what? Fire’s fun.”

“I’m just saying.” One more. “Tonight might be a little too much for you with the two of us, you know? I’m not as easy to handle as you think. ”

“I don’t think you are,” you confess. “But I don’t want to handle you. I want the opposite.”

No matter how tired you are, you will see this thing through. With or without him, you will take what Yoongi gives. Accept if Jungkook offers anything. And you think… you think he will.

There’s a glimmer in his eyes. A hint of desire, hunger growing in the predator’s big gaze. If he wants to reject you now, you’ll walk away.

But you don’t think he will.

And once more, courageous, you say, “Handle me, Jeon Jungkook.”

okayyy. this is one glimpse of the whole sin lol. yoongi is gonna have a way bigger role, this is just a jk centric scene!! they're both prominent a lot in every other scene and they're both menaces :')

please look forward to it!! it's gonna be a fun lil piece before we go back to our lil angst/fluff corner. and support by leaving a like, reblog and comment! anddd send me your thoughts, your enthusiasm is extremely encouraging!!

if you want to be on the taglist, here you go!! love you all <3

[queenie-ofthe-void]

S2.5 AU || ~2k words || rating: teen || cws: mentions of past homophobic slurs, childhood neglect

AU where Max and her Mom move to the trailer park immediately following the events of S2. It's part of a long-term WIP, but this chapter got off course so I'm posting it as a stand-alone for now.

“Fucking, Christ,” Eddie mumbles as he drags himself from his warm bed. It’s almost four in the morning, much too early on a Saturday for someone to be bothering him. Yet the knocking’s persistent, the noise growing louder and impatient as he throws a sweatshirt on. Wayne had warned him it’d be a cold night– because yeah Wayne, it’s December– but not a goddamned ice age. The space heaters are barely cutting it. He can’t imagine anyone being out in this weather unless they didn’t have a choice.

Eddie yanks the door open to find the Mayfield girl, fist hitting him in the stomach mid-knock. It doesn’t hurt but he still makes a show of it. He’s nothing if not a patron saint of the arts. “Oof Little Red, I think you left a bruise,” he grunts as he crumples forward onto the door frame. 

“Right, sure,” she deadpans, rolling her eyes. Now that Eddie’s closer, he can see the pale tint to her skin and the red flush on her nose and cheeks. She’s layered in multiple sweatshirts with a Hawkins Middle knit cap covering her ears, grey Hawkins Tigersharks sweatpants, and a stuffed backpack slung over one shoulder. Red doesn’t really look like the school-spirit kind of kid. But she does look cold.

“Want to come in?” Eddie asks. She’s barreling past him before he can finish, plopping herself down on the living room floor in front of the space heater. He moves to take the chair next to her before reconsidering. Instead, Eddie sits on the floor too, leaning up against the couch opposite her.

“The power’s out– heat too,” Red mumbles. 

“Yeah, windows are pretty shit in the trailers. It’s why we got space heaters this year.”

“Must be nice, being able to afford space heaters,” she says with a smirk, taking her mittens off and rubbing her hands back and forth in front of the heater. Eddie’s more than familiar with the self-deprecating poor jokes, so it’s no sweat off his back. “I’m Max, by the way. Not Little Red.”

“Well when newbies move into the lot across the way and don’t introduce themselves, you’ve left me no choice but to resort to outlandish nicknames.” A ghost of a smile passes her features before it’s lost to a full-body shiver. Eddie realizes that this is their first-ever conversation, despite her living in the Park for almost four weeks now. “Mama Red and Little Red: The unfriendly neighbors across the way,” he finishes the dramatics with a wide smile.

Max scoffs out a laugh “well you haven’t been exactly friendly either.” And well, she’s got him there. He’s not exactly baking cookies as a neighborly welcome.

He decides he likes her. She seems witty, quick to defend herself, and bold enough to call out bullshit. Eddie’s always been a sucker for lost sheep and Little Red is quite literally a shivering child huddled up to his hearth with no parent in sight. Like sees like and he’s almost desperate to help her.

“You know, I know the heaters are shit in the trailers-”

“That’s an understatement,” Max interrupts with another huff.

“– but if you or your mom ever need help with anything, Wayne and I are always happy to come over to check on stuff for you,” he offers. 

He watches the offer die in the air between them. Her face shutters back to the cold neutrality he’s used to seeing her wear and she moves to stand.

“Yeah, of course,” she says. There’s no warmth or meaning behind the words. Just typical middle America niceties. “Speaking of help, can I use your phone?”

Eddie nods, leading her to the kitchen. He can’t help but replay the moment over in his head, regretting that his mistake was so painfully obvious in hindsight. Offering kids like Gareth and Jeff help meant soft smiles and adoration. For a kid like Max– a kid like him– an offer of help only reminds them they’re a burden. Help is just a way of reminding them that they can’t take care of themselves. Help means weak.

How could it have been so long that he’s forgotten? He supposes he has Wayne to thank for that newfound privilege.

“Hey it’s me,” Max says in hushed tones over the receiver. She looks at Eddie and turns her back to him. He meanders over to the other side of the counter, pretending not to listen.

“Can you come pick me up?” she asks. Eddie can’t hear the response on the other end, but Max exasperatedly sighs. 

“Yes I’m fine. No, it’s not Billy, it’s just the heater.” 

She pauses, shoulders hunched, and Eddie wonders who Billy could be. The only Billy he knows is Hargrove, and he’s never seen him around here before. Thank fuck for that.

“No she’s not home. No, jeez will you listen I just need– yeah I’ve got a bag. Ten minutes? Ok yeah I’ll– wait no. I’m not home.”

She turns to glance at Eddie, and he’s too slow to look nonchalant if her scowl means something. 

“I’m at the Munson’s. Yeah– no, it’s just Eddie. Umm,” she hesitates, scanning him up and down before responding, “no he’s good. Yeah I’ll wait here.”

She hangs the phone back on the wall, crossing her arms as she looks anywhere but Eddie’s direction. He knows he fucked up, knows where he went wrong, but doesn’t know how to fix it. He isn’t Wayne. 

“My ride will be here soon,” she says to her shoes.

“Ok yeah, no big deal,” Eddie replies. “We can wait in the living room?”

Little Red shrugs, but heads back to sit in front of the space heater. It’s silent and awkward, neither of them knowing how to move past the tension. Eddie laments himself again at losing a lost sheep. Although if she has a ride, maybe she isn’t as lost as he thought.

Ten minutes feels like an eternity, but eventually headlights flash through the front windows. Max practically tips over from the weight of her backpack with how quickly she’s scrambling toward the door. And yeah, Eddie thinks she must’ve felt the same about the wait.

“Uhh, hey, thanks,” Max says, her hand already on the door handle. “You know, for letting me use the phone.”

He can fix this. He can recover. Eddie doesn’t want to acknowledge why it’s so important that Little Red feels safe here, but he’s desperate for her to know. That he’s ok and he gets it. He gets her and she isn’t alone here, like Eddie was before Wayne. He wants to help. 

What would he have wanted to hear?

“Whelp,” he says loudly, standing up from the floor, “you’re always welcome to come over and entertain me with more scintillating conversations. Perchance, on our next meeting, we could engage in the classic game of Go Fish?” He plasters on a too-wide grin, removing an imaginary top-hat and falls forward into a deep bow. An actual offer of help disguised as his own boredom, wrapped in a thick layer of sarcasm and extravagance. He’s really pulling out all the stops here.

And it works, mostly. Her mouth ticks up at the ends, matching the little spark that’s returned to her eyes. Eddie thinks that maybe for Little Red, a smirk and an eye roll is as good as it gets. He’ll take it as a win.

“Oh my god,” she laments, yet the smirk is still there. “You sound just as dorky as the boys.”

She opens the door and Eddie stands behind her, holding it open as she makes her way out. He’s not sure why he’s surprised– knows he really, really shouldn’t be at this point– to see the maroon beemer parked in front of his trailer. But here he is, standing in front of the King himself, wearing Wayne’s black and tattered Johnny Cash sweatshirt, blue buffalo check wool pajama bottoms, and his red and green Christmas fuzzy socks. He feels too visible, the headlights shining on all of Eddie’s insecurities.

But before his hackles come out, Harrington jumps out of his car and half jogs up to the front step. He takes Max’s backpack and ruffles the pom on her knit hat before she’s bounding to the car, saying something under her breath which sounds a little like “ok mom” if Eddie’s not mistaken.

“Hey Munson,” Harrington says. He’s standing at the bottom of the front porch, looking up at Eddie through the glow of the headlights. And Eddie’s pretty sure the only plebeians who have ever seen the King look this disgruntled are his many midnight conquests. Harrington’s still got a thick, red sleep indent across his left cheek. His normally styled hair is pointing in all directions, standing completely vertical on the same side as the indent. He must’ve left in a hurry too, only clad in grey Hawkins Tigershark sweatpants– same as Red, though his fit him properly– and an oversized green crewneck sweatshirt.

And no, Eddie thinks, maybe even Harrington’s midnight conquests haven’t seen him like this. The King looks less like royalty and more like the normal boy Eddie supposes he really is, underneath the All-American highschool bully varnish he must slather himself in every morning. Or at least did, before Byers and Wheeler and Hargrove got to him. 

He realizes too late that he’s been staring, caught up in the softness of a pretty face. Harrington’s shuffling his feet, blowing on his hands as he rubs them together fiercely. There’s a strong red tinge to his cheeks, almost like a blush. Almost.

“I uhh,” Harrington stutters, looking up at Eddie. “I just wanted to say thank you, for letting her hang here until I could get here.”

“It’s no problem, man,” Eddie says, “don’t worry about it.” Eddie means to sound casual, he does. Because he’s seen Harrington around. Watched him help move boxes into Red’s trailer. Watched him pick her up and drop her off everyday of the week, including most weekends. Hell, sometimes Eddie’s even witnessed an entire gaggle of children spill from the luxury car’s back seats, the lot of them yelling while Harrington tries to herd them around like an exhausted sheep dog. 

But Harrington is still The Hair, The King of Hawkins High, even if it’s not the same as it used to be. So Eddie’s voice sounds more cold and hollow than casual. Harrington might not have ever shoved him into lockers, but he brandished sharp names like weapons against kids like Eddie. He’s a freak. A fag and a queer. A loser.

Harrington cringes, almost like he can hear Eddie’s thoughts. Eddie steps back to close the door, but Harrington calls out.

“If you ever need help with anything,” Harrington calls out, “or if Max is here and needs something, just like, ask me. Call me, you can get my number from Max.” 

Help. 

Eddie bites back his instinctual reaction to tell Harrington to fuck off. Of course some hoity-toity rich prick thinks someone like Eddie needs help. 

Hypocrite he lambashes himself, before taking a slow breath in and out.

He stiffly nods, unable to actually respond without worry of snapping. 

Harrington seems to understand, nodding in return, jogging back to the car and sending a small, awkward wave from behind the steering wheel as he and Red pull out of the drive. 

Eddie crawls back into the warmth of his bed, blankets pulled tight around him. He thinks he recovered with Red rather well, in the end. Like he hasn’t lost her faith completely, which is all he could hope for. And even though he doesn’t like Harrington, he also can’t help but wonder how different his own childhood would’ve been if he’d had someone like Steve, who would’ve picked him up at a moment’s notice at four a.m. on the coldest day of winter. 

He might not have adopted a new sheep into his growing flock, but he can sleep a little better knowing she isn’t alone. Knowing Steve Harrington, of all people, seems more than willing to go out of his way for her. Almost as desperate to help a lost kid as Eddie feels, and isn’t that a thought. The Freak and the King might have something in common after all.  

[jo-harrington]

As Above, So Below - Chapter 9: Deus in Absentia

Previous Chapter: Chapter 8 - Miserere Mei

Summary: What are you to do when God has abandoned you?

Word Count: 15.6k

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

Warnings/Themes: Van Helsing Inspired, Kas!Eddie, Religious Themes, Criticism of Religion/Catholicism, Fate vs. Free Will, Death and Injury, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Discussion of the Upside Down, Resurrection, Supernatural Encounters, Grief, Major Character Death, Gore, Body Horror, Angst, Disturbing Imagery, Heavy Religious Imagery and Implications, Biblical and Other Literary/Media References. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

Note: Thank you to @pastel-pillows and @dr-aculaaa for the quick beta reads of the few snippets (you know the ones). This one is...I'm not even sure what it is but it's heavy and confusing and I'm so fucking proud of it. We've got 3 more chapters left until the end, it still feels like there's so much more to go, but we've really taken a turn for the worst...and now maybe we're heading for the better with this one.

Please note that after this chapter, I will be taking a brief hiatus from AASB (maybe til mid-november/december?) to wrap up some WIPs. (CCFest Halloween, the next installment of Gospel According to MV, the next chapter of Stranger Than (Fan)Fiction, etc. I need to clear it out. But we're not on so much of a cliffhanger this time.

This series will not be for the faint of heart, nor is it something that was written with a general audience in mind. Please check the above warnings and ask yourself if you are in the correct headspace to proceed. I am happy to answer any questions via PM or Ask.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

“Because I lie and sign myself to lies! Because I am not worth the dust on the feet of them that hang! […] I have given you my soul; leave me my name!” - Arthur Miller, The Crucible

October 30, 1987

The world passed by in a blur and you avoided looking at everyone and everything.

Except for Steve.

It was almost impossible to look anywhere other than directly upon him.

His head.

His body.

Both.

Either.

It didn't really matter anymore. They were both Steve, and at the same time, neither of them were.

They were pieces of him shorn apart in vile rage and wrath, one that something inside you--that the last lingering part of Eddie that resided deep in the pit where your soul should have been--said was unconscionable. But you somehow couldn't bring yourself to agree.

Probably because you, yourself, didn't have a conscience anymore either.

You tried to feel, tried to scrape together some piece of humanity from the leftover parts of your own jagged soul that clung to the corners of your being.

It was a futile task; from the moment that Mary Victoria's screaming stopped, you felt emptier than you ever had.

You couldn't move, couldn't bring yourself to do anything.

Billy regained some control of his body; he dropped Steve's head and ran but Steve's friends didn't give chase.

Mary Victoria scrambled to Steve's side in some futile attempt to reattach his head; she spoke broken words that sounded underwater to you. Whispers, then another scream, then whispers again. She turned to you and shouted something, and then broke down in tears.

Nancy and Dustin hauled him to the car, their own grief temporarily set aside, and debated where to put him. Where could they put him? Had they even figured it out? How many other friends had they done this to? How many slaughtered family members did they have to steel their hearts towards? Did it even matter?

Dustin even wrangled you at some point, shuffled you into the car. Where had you sat? In the front or the back? Who knew? All of a sudden you were back at the Harrington's leaning against the mailbox for support as a few people carried Steve's remains into the garage.

So you just stared.

You never broke eye contact; you barely even blinked.

Time passed.

Your body got weaker and wearier.

The sun rose, an ominous glowing red dawn, on a new day.

Everyone left the garage and disappeared inside.

But someone left the garage door open for you to come in when you were ready, and when you finally were, you trudged towards it.

Towards him.

You would've thought that the ground would have tried to grab you and hold you back, that your body would've broken and failed, that God Himself would smite you for even thinking of approaching Steve like you did.

But it was surprisingly easy to close the distance between the driveway and the folding table that had been erected to hold the body of a dear friend.

The body of a leader. The body of a hero.

Your eyes raked along his form and you punished yourself committing every inch of him to memory.

His clothes, his skin, the stains of blood on both, the way his eyes were not quite shut, the distinct lack of tension in his jaw, the remnants of a scar that circled his throat, and the jagged wound that had severed his head.

The wound seemed to follow along that scar like a guide; maybe it had been one, a weak point Eddie knew would be there to enact some ultimate retribution.

Your footing faltered and you grasped the edge of the table to keep yourself upright, but that only made you lean over the body.

Suddenly all of the feelings that eluded you from the moment Steve's body hit the ground--maybe even from the moment you had returned to Hawkins, as terrible and detached and inhuman as you were--barreled into you.

Steve Harrington wasn't the first dead person you'd seen, or the first that had died alongside you, fighting some monster. Shit, he wasn't even the first one that died because of your stupidity.

He was only the first...what?

What was Steve Harrington?

Who was Steve Harrington to you?

You gritted your teeth and thought about it, wracked your brain for some answer.

He wasn't a friend or family, he wasn't a neighbor or a coworker. He was a comrade in arms by sheer luck, and if it hadn't have been for that night in the tunnels, you doubted the two of you would have ever crossed paths.

He was a friend of a friend of Eddie's. Some coincidental flirtatious fling of Mary Victoria's. Mary Victoria who, you realized, was just as much of a stranger as Steve was. You didn't know her. She wasn't a friend, no matter how much you could hope or think that she was.

You didn't know any of these people. Didn't care about these people. They were just friendly neighbors who unfortunately became collateral damage. They were nothing.

Steve Harrington was nothing.

But that was the reason that whatever was left of your humanity was torn up as he lay dead before you.

An innocent life. Lost. Because of you.

So many lives lost, so many families broken, because you chose to act like some selfish and well-intentioned God, protecting the light when you yourself destroyed the light with everything you did and everything you touched.

They all tried to stop you--even fate; even God Himself--but you refused to listen.

No wonder your prayers went unanswered.

You felt a presence beside you, surrounding you; Eddie's phantom hand slid into your own and squeezed, offering some sort of comfort, but you simply clenched your hand into a tight fist in refusal. Then his hands were on your shoulders and his ghostly lips caressing your ear.

"You could heal him."

No, you couldn't.

"Bring him back."

It was impossible, actually impossible; maybe if you were whole, you could do it, but you knew if you tried, you'd only be confronted with how far you had fallen and how miserably you'd fail.

"But you'd heal him if you could," Eddie whispered. "You'd fix all of this if you could. That's what makes you good; you haven't failed yet, sweetheart."

You wanted to believe him, you really wanted to, but then you thought of Eddie, the other Eddie, the rest of Eddie...and the other you, the rest of you...and all of you together and separate and broken and whole and...and...

Your legs wobbled, your knees gave out, and you finally crashed to the floor. Eddie had the good sense to vanish.

And there, on the ground, you finally broke down in tears.

Because you could get no lower than this, short of burying yourself deep in the dirt where you probably should have stayed all those years ago when the collapsing tunnels had swallowed you. You should have died to spare Hawkins--all of Hawkins, Eddie and Wayne included--of this misery that your existence brought.

You could get no lower, short of diving straight into the pits of Hell itself.

Where you belonged.

November 6, 1983

You did your best to try and keep things calm after Eddie vanished.

You could still feel him and you were still a part of him, but he simply refused to let you follow; however, with no body to speak of, and the Upside Down seeming to rejoice that the chaos it desired won over peace, you had to pick your battles.

So you picked Wayne.

You sat by his side and provided all of the comfort and support that you could; you healed him as much as you possibly could, even though his wounds kept weeping and his body kept rejecting your efforts. You wondered, for a moment, if the serene acceptance you'd felt earlier was the cause of his prolonged demise; if he had accepted death on his own, you couldn't force him to continue living.

But then you felt the waves of fear emanating from him, as he lay there, and stared up into those eyes in the sky that watched you both, and you knew that whatever was causing him to perish was beyond what you could control.

So you soothed his worries, just like you'd soothed Eddie's when Vecna preyed on him.

"It's ok," you whispered the lie to him. "It'll all be ok."

It was also the lie you told yourself.

You tried to distract him from his anguish and fear by telling him a story; the nonsensical memories of your first time meeting him kept him calm, let him focus on his breathing, on keeping his heart going.

You weren't even sure that he heard you.

What he did hear, though, was Eddie's anguished roar as he reappeared on the barren plane of Lover's Lake.

At first you though it was the rage that had overtaken him before, when he'd pulled you from Billy's consciousness; you weren't expecting him to be crying bloody tears, raking his talons into his hair, and muttering repeatedly,

"What have I done? What have I done?"

"What happened?" He ignored your question, so you asked again. "Eddie, what happened?"

He shook his head and kept pacing; as you watched him, you felt like it was a very you thing to do, so you decided that the only way to get through to him might be the only way you'd get through to yourself.

You were by his side immediately, latching yourself onto him like the parasite you'd been to him for as long as he'd been under Vecna's control. The edges of your being melted with his as you ran your soothing hands over his face, his cheeks, his eyelids. You thought of the countless times that he'd done this to you to show you his affection and calm you down.

Finally, when he stopped torturing himself, you whispered into his ear, "tell me."

His shoulders heaved with labored breath, and then he finally nodded, eyes shut as he basked in the feeling of you.

You rejoiced in the feeling of being wanted by him.

"I killed him," he said with a broken voice, sending a shock down your spine. "I killed him."

"Killed who?" you asked, and his lip trembled.

"I didn't mean to," he whimpered. "I got carried away."

"Eddie," you said his name sternly.

"I'm not a monster," he continued. "I'm not, I'm not."

"Eddie, who did you kill?"

"Tell me that it'll be ok," he demanded suddenly, eyes shooting open. He stared...not quite at you, but through you. You wondered if he saw the concern in your gaze, the fear for him, or if he only felt it. "Tell me, please; I need to know."

"I'll tell you," you began slowly. "If you tell me what you did."

He took a breath, building some sense of courage, and then swallowed.

And what followed was one crushing blow after another.

Because as soon as the name "Steve" fell from Eddie's lips, a horrible sound came from Wayne.

A death rattle.

He choked and shook, more than he had since the time his body broke upon impact with the ground.

The rage and sorrow that you might've felt at the revelation that Eddie had killed Steve suddenly transformed into worry and fear for Wayne. As his body convulsed weakly and he struggled to find air.

You and Eddie both abandoned your anguish to go to his side; you hovered over him, hands locked together as you tried to guide him back towards life, but the fight was over, it seemed.

Wayne used the last bit of his strength to place his hand over Eddie's, his mangled, blood-stained fingers locking with Eddie's inhuman clawed ones.

Then with one last look towards you, he was gone.

October 30, 1987

The door to the house opened some hours later.

You had stayed on the ground and cried the whole time, the minutes ticking away--literally thanks to the watch adorned on Steve's cold wrist that punctuated every second that passed, like the telltale heart--between heaving sobs and silent tears that stained your cheeks and soaked the collar of your shirt. Your eyes felt swollen and painful, throbbing inside of your skull.

You knew you should take a minute, recompose yourself, and give your body a break from the constant barrage of thoughts and emotions, but you supposed this was a punishment of sorts.

Still, it wasn't punishment enough.

"Come inside," a gentle voice said from the threshold after a beat. "There's food. Or if you'd like to wash up. I don't know if you've slept out here either, but you could come and sleep in a real bed too."

"No," came your gravelly reply.

There was a sigh and footsteps, then Nancy dropped to the ground beside you. She folded herself as small as she could get, tucking her knees against her chest to rest her chin upon them, and stared up at Steve's body.

You weren't really sure what this was. You couldn't say that you were surprised that Nancy was out here with you at all. Out of everyone who resided in that house, who was left to tolerate your presence? What surprised you was how soft she was. Her voice, her posture, her presence. You supposed she was mourning Steve too, just like everyone else; you could see her own red-rimmed, puffy eyes in your peripheral vision.

But if she was here, you expected some sort of tongue lashing, heavy with accusations and blame.

Maybe she knew that she didn't need to do any of that. You blamed yourself plenty.

"So what do we do now?" she asked, voice devoid of emotion. "What's next?"

"What do you mean?" you questioned in return. "Steve's dead; you bury him or burn him...whatever you do with the rest of your dead."

"No," Nancy shook her head. "What's the next move to closing the gates and sealing the Upside Down for good? Wasn't that the grand plan?"

You hummed in response, a non-committal noise that seemed to irritate Nancy enough to turn and look at you.

"Weren't you here to save Hawkins? Save us."

"And I'm doing a great job of it," you gestured to the table, "aren't I, Steve?"

She scoffed, a very judgmental sound, and then turned away again.

There was a long stretch of silence, padded with muffled noises from inside the house and that ever-present ticking of Steve's watch. You could hear sharp and sudden intakes of breath from Nancy every now and again, and you expected some kind of jab to be sent your way, but none ever came.

Eventually she said, "I know how it feels to want to give up."

"Yeah?" you croaked in reply.

"I think that's all I've wanted since this all started," she continued. "For it to be over."

"Well, people like us...we don't ever get what we want." You didn't quite like the way the bitterness of your words tasted on your tongue but you supposed it was a flavor you needed to get used to.

"People like us..." Nancy trailed off and then nodded. "People like us can't give up, though, no matter how much we want it. I certainly can't do that, not with Holly relying on me. Actually, a lot of people in that house rely on me, so I have to keep going for them."

"That's nice."

"They rely on you too," she said matter-of-factly, and if you didn't know better that Nancy Wheeler hated your guts, you would've thought that there was even some laughter in her voice. "You made them believe in you, with your big words and your speeches and promises. They don't particularly like you. But they believe in you."

"Get to the point Nancy," you finally tilted your head to meet her gaze.

"Do I have a point?"

"It sounds like you're trying to get me to do something and I'm not sure what that something is."

"I'm trying to get you not to just give up," she held her hands out in some sort of offer to you. "I'm trying to get you to get back on your feet and fix this. Because you're the only one who can."

"Sure," you snorted.

"It's true!"

"I don't know if you noticed but I'm not doing so hot. A few days away from ending up like our good friend Steve here, I'm sure," you gestured to your body. "I had time to think and...I guess that's what happens when a vampire starts to suck out your soul? People probably never noticed since the blood loss kills them first."

"Then go back to the Upside Down and tell Eddie to fix this before you die," she snapped. "Let the gate shut behind you, I don't care."

"Never thought that you'd endorse me making a deal with the devil," you snarked.

"Is that what you think of him now?" she asked. "That he's the devil."

"What else is he?"

"He's your boyfriend, the love of your life," she threw her hands up in the air and shouted. "That's what you've been saying all this time right? 'I came back for Eddie, I love Eddie.' That's why Dustin made us keep it a secret. But even when you found out that he was alive and that he was a monster, that didn't change anything. But suddenly he does what? He kills Steve right in front of you and he's suddenly evil. You didn't care when he killed people before."

You couldn't help the laughter that suddenly bubbled out of you.

Where it came from, you couldn't really know for sure. Whether it stemmed from some sort of guilt or discomfort or realization that everything was futile and idiotic since you were dying anyway.

"No," you giggled. "I guess I didn't."

Or maybe that Nancy was actually right and you didn't care at all; it was that dark pit inside of you that swallowed her accusations and spit out the laughter instead.

Maybe Eddie wasn't the evil one, maybe it was you all along.

It was in your nature, after all; hadn't Jinette told you that time and time again.

But then Nancy, with her big words and fiery eyes and ferocious gentleness that laid just beneath the surface, started laughing too.

You were sure, if someone was looking down on the two of you right now, it would be a sight to see: you and Nancy, with your previous adversity towards one another, laughing hysterically and falling against each other.

Little by little though, that laughter produced tears, and then more tears fell, until the two of you were huddled together, crying once again. You were right, all that time ago, thinking that you and Nancy Wheeler were a mirror of one another. The strength, the loss, the perseverance, and the sorrow that lingered just below the surface.

"Eddie killed my boyfriend Jonathan," Nancy whispered. "And I hated him for it. I still do. It hasn't even been two months and it feels like there's this gaping wound in my chest, like my heart's torn out without him, and it's been like that for a lifetime."

"I'm sorry," you muttered back. "I'm so sorry Nancy."

"And then he started helping us," she ignored your apology. "He killed so many people but then...for some reason...he decided to help us and I almost killed him right then. Itchy trigger finger. But Steve...and Dustin...and my brother Mike...they all said to give him a chance. The Eddie who killed Jon, that wasn't the Eddie who was helping us, and I had to believe them, even though the hate was still there.

"Then came the battle. The end, or so we thought. The last stand against the Upside Down. Vecna...he killed so many people. He killed my family. My parents and Mike...and I was so close too, I could've died alongside them, and in those last moments I thought...I might even see Jonathan again. But somehow I was spared; Vecna even took that from me."

Nancy gritted her teeth and choked on a sob and her voice got progressively louder, until those last words, then she was quiet again.

She took a calming breath and kept going through her tears.

"Mom used to make us go to church, but I'd gotten too old for stuff," she shook her head. "Seen too much of this nightmare to believe in a god anymore, especially since the pain just got worse as more and more of the people I loved just kept dying. That wound got bigger, my hate got bigger.

"But then there was Holly...so I must've been spared by some god so that she wouldn't be alone, right?"

She paused and looked at you now, like you'd give her some sort of reassurance. But you couldn't bring yourself to do it. Was there a god? If there was, he wasn't in Hawkins.

Nancy just sighed at your silence and wiped the tears away with the back of her hand.

"There are more people, of course, more people who survived. Mike's friends and Joyce and Steve...and Robin. Steve and Robin lost everything too--their parents and Robin had this friend Vickie that must've been like...it doesn't matter--but they had each other. And yeah, Robin's been there for me, probably more than anyone else in this mess. She's put up with me and helped me and kept me sane when I thought I couldn't handle it anymore. There's nothing I could ever do to thank her. Now she's lost another person and I can't even repay her kindness. But...and I feel bad for thinking of Holly this way...but everyone else had each other, and all I had now was this pain and this hate and this burden.

"Then Eddie Munson betrayed us for the Upside Down again."

You closed your eyes at her words, felt the pang in your chest at the hate in her voice.

"And then you came along," she sneered. "And you killed Barb. That was my friend too, you know; Barb was my best friend. The first time I saw her after Eddie...after Eddie did that to her...I had hope for the first time in a long time. But not for Barb. For Jon. That he could come back too, but Eddie couldn't even do that for me."

"Stop talking about Eddie," you pleaded, trying to stop the tears from starting again, but it was too late.

"But I have to," Nancy insisted. "Don't you get it? I have to talk about Eddie Munson. Because...because you love him. Just like I love Jonathan Byers. I hate Eddie and I thought I hated you too, but you love Eddie Munson. Eddie is a monster and you love him...and he loves you. Loves you enough to kill his friends for you. And you love him even though you're dying because of him and I keep having to remind myself that...that I would do the same thing if I was in your shoes and Jon was a monster too."

She was fully sobbing now too.

"I would do anything, anything, to have Jonathan back," she exclaimed. "I would let the world burn for him, I would die for him. But before I died, I would ask him to fix this mess, for everyone else I loved, because I know how much he loved me too."

There was a knock on the garage door that startled the two of you, and then a muffled "Nance, you ok in there" through the thick wood.

"Yeah," Nancy choked out in response and cleared her throat. "I'll be back inside in a second."

"Kay."

There were footsteps and then you were alone in silence again.

"Sorry," she shook her head after a moment. "I'm sorry. I don't...know what came over me."

"It's ok," you tried to reassure her.

"Are we good?" she asked.

"Are we?" you parroted.

She paused and inhaled shakily, then nodded.

"If we have to get out there and fight again," she started. "I'll have your back."

Without another glance at you, she got to her feet and placed a trembling hand on Steve's chest.

Then, with a clear and steely voice filled with a sense of finality, she repeated her earlier statement, "but you need to fix this. You're the only one who can."

November 6, 1983

Eddie stayed there for hours. Days. He stayed hunched over Wayne's body, further soaking his uncle's clothes with those bloody tears until there were no more left.

And there was nowhere else you would be, even if you could leave, than by his side.

The anguished roar of grief that escaped Eddie's body after Wayne took his last breath had shaken the very earth beneath you, and in your heart, only rivaled the scream he made when Vecna had finally broken him and he'd given up his soul.

You'd never seen him like this.

Never.

Broken and beside himself; he could barely function, could barely respond to your words or touch.

All of the other creatures in the Upside Down knew to leave him to this; you saw neither hide nor hair of them. There were no footsteps, no flaps of wings.

You felt awful at the triumphant feeling that bloomed in your chest to know that he wanted you there, that he accepted the comfort of your presence, however little of it that he allowed.

When he was tired, he clutched Wayne to his chest, and nestled into your embrace. When he was hungry, he closed his eyes and found your wrist, then drank deeply from veins that would only sustain his heart, and not his stomach. And when he felt anger again, he used you; you let him use you like he had during the eternity that he was trapped as a soulless puppet under Vecna's control, unwillingly faced with his humanity.

He slashed at you with his claws, he roared and yelled and lashed out, he fucked your phantom body to find some cathartic release. It was never enough, not like it would be if she had been there, and you had to come to the acceptance that although the two of you were two parts of one whole, you were not home to him the way that she was.

Instead you could only hold him, run your hand through his hair, brighten the void deep within him that got darker with his despair, and soothe the pain.

"Why do they leave me?" he whispered into you in the aftermath of one of those instances. "Why am I destined to lose everything?"

"I don't know Eddie," you replied gently.

"Why did he have to die?"

"We all die."

"No," he growled, unwilling to accept it.

"You've died before," you reminded him, and then you contemplated your next words. "And so have I "

"No," he repeated, snarling this time. He clutched you to him. "No, you'll never die. Not if I have anything to say about it."

"She's dying," you spoke of your other self now. "She's out there and dying."

"Please," he wept. "No."

"Death," you began. "It's not the end, it's just the beginning. You'll always have each other, even if you can't be together like this."

You were talking out your ass, you knew; an empty promise. Half of a lie. Even if he didn't have her, he would have you.

"Just like you'll have Wayne," you continued, "and he'll always have you."

You stared past Eddie now, at Wayne's body just yards away, resting in the pit that Eddie had dug and clawed in his rage. Neither of you particularly wanted his body to remain here, but what else could you do? Wayne needed to go back to Hawkins, and neither of you could take him there.

"Fate is cruel," you whispered to Eddie again. "Wayne knew how much you loved him."

"I know."

"Do you remember the story I told you once?" you asked suddenly. "About the oneiroi?"

It had been a long and hard day for him, still mourning your other self's departure from Hawkins. Dark thoughts had filtered through Eddie's head more than once after she left, and you had no choice but to intervene. To soothe him and heal him, to love him, just like you always would. And to do that, you told him a story about meeting the loved ones you missed the most in your dreams.

You cracked a smile when you felt Eddie nod against you now.

"You'll meet Wayne again one day," you whispered. "Maybe in your dreams. Maybe...maybe in heaven."

Another lie.

The remnants of his soul had long-since vanished though, and you'd said a prayer for it to find its way to heaven, where he belonged. But you knew better, and it was a bitter feeling to sense it...lurking in some unknown distance until it was time for him to make himself known to you.

"Maybe even here," you finished.

Just like Eddie's soul had.

At first, you thought it was a trick of the eye. But you weren't easily tricked; in fact, you had no eyes, no really. Then you wondered, and you couldn't know for sure, if you wished it or willed it into being.

You could see it, even from a distance. The twitch of Wayne's body inside the pit Eddie had dug. It wasn't a deep pit; a divot in the ground, more than a true grave. You could see the convulsions, and then the shifting.

Then you realized with some horror, that those things you'd tried to rationalize--the wishes and the tricks--none of those things had caused Wayne's body to move again. Or breath again, as you saw the soft rise of his flannel-covered chest.

This wasn't your realm; it wasn't yours to control. But you'd been here long enough to know better than to think you had any control. Maybe if you were real, maybe if you were her, you could change things. Maybe you could've stopped it. But you were you, and you'd witnessed time and again what happened to the dead that found themselves in the Upside Down.

They either perished, their bodies consumed along with their souls, or they were revived. By Vecna's hand. Or by Eddie's.

So how was Wayne moving now if the attempts to revive him had failed?

You watched in horror as his hands flinched and twitched, and then reached for the edge of the pit. You froze as he hauled himself upright, and then turned his head towards you in a stiff and unnatural way.

He stared right at you and you stared back at him, unable to look away.

Eddie hadn't ever truly been able to witness your form and Wayne had only been able to see you because he was dying. But for Wayne to be able to be alive again and look at you, see you, when you weren't really there? There had only been one set of eyes that had really looked upon you during your time here in the Upside Down.

And they were no longer in the sky.

You clutched Eddie to you, as if to smother him in your presence, in your being, so that he wouldn't see Wayne standing there. Healed. Alive. Whole. Other.

But it was too late.

The gasp that came from Eddie was the first nail in the coffin.

The tears that dripped from his eyes as he got to his feet were the next.

Each of the words that spilled from his mouth as he rejoiced in the resurrection of his uncle were like the strike of a hammer against the coffin lid to ensure it was secure.

And the embrace that he pulled "Wayne" into, a death bell.

The ground trembled beneath you, starting from the place where "Wayne" stood and radiating outwards; you could sense from all distances, the creatures of the Upside Down rejoiced the his presence. At their release.

You were frozen in terror at all of it.

Vecna, when it came down to it, was only human--even with all of his power--and, in a way, so were you. So was Eddie. For all that time, you'd done your best; you'd used your love, your tricks, to counteract the poison of his curse. You could fight against a human to spare Eddie from pain and death and his ultimate demise.

But this?

You were only human. And so was Eddie.

You didn't know how to protect Eddie from this.

October 31, 1987

You woke to the sounds of trick-or-treaters outside of the Harrington's garage.

It was an unexpected thing to hear and it startled you, their little voices shouting in tandem, followed by laughter. It seemed strange and out of place, especially considering the grimness that lingered in the garage with Steve's decaying body just a few feet away on that table.

The fact that it even was Halloween surprised you, but you hadn't really been keeping track of the date, especially not after your time in the Upside Down.

You forced yourself to your feet, body aching, and lifted the garage door to step outside.

The late afternoon sun greeted you, as did the crisp fall air; the neighborhood wasn't flooded with children trick-or-treating, but there were a few groups going around. All followed by parents with their weapons to protect from any horrors that lurked in the shadows; the Upside Down still posed the greatest threat, even if it was a holiday.

But there was just something so human, so normal, seeing them. Even in the face of danger and death, here they were, looking for a little bit of joy.

Your heart ached at the thought, and you wondered if that was Eddie reacting to their participation in his favorite holiday.

You watched as two little princesses, their taffeta dresses donned over matching turtlenecks to protect them from the chill, walked up the driveway hand in hand, scurrying between the parked cars, to approach the group hanging about on the Harrington's porch.

"I hope you guys like cookies," Dustin told them after their greeting, and he held out a bowl with plastic-wrapped treats. "Mom baked them fresh this morning."

Once they were gone, Dustin--who must've noticed you as soon as you stepped outside--waved you over.

"You remember Max and Will," he gestured to his friends who were situated in lawn chairs. "And maybe you remember Lucas too?"

"From the tunnels," you greeted. "Hi."

"Hey," Lucas shot you a tentative little wave, and then tried to get up to offer his seat to you. You motioned for him to stay seated, and then leaned against the side of the house.

"And Lucas's sister, Erica," he gestured to the girl sitting beside Max, who was the only one dressed for the occasion. A witchy purple dress and glitter makeup expertly applied on her face; it was cute and spooky and fitting for a young teenager like her.

"No trick or treating for you guys?" you asked, mustering up a small smile.

"We were going to," Max piped up, and then gestured down to the object in her lap. "Brought my trusty Michael Meyers mask and everything."

"I was actually going to go and spend the night at my friend Shelly's house," Erica interjected. "We all planned to dress as witches and do a seance."

"Oh yeah?" you asked, the part of your brain that always collected little tidbits about spiritualism and the supernatural activated. "Well, be careful. It's Samhain...spirits can travel between worlds easier. You don't want a ghost to follow you home."

"It's Halloween, it's make believe," Erica narrowed her eyes at you. "Besides I can't go."

"Why not?"

"Our moms asked us to stay close," Will explained.

"We're, uh," Dustin shuffled in his seat. "We're..."

"We're having a memorial for Steve later tonight," Lucas finished for him.

All of the kids looked a little somber at those words, shifting in their chairs uncomfortably.

"Oh," you replied softly, unable to really say anything else.

Dustin, of course, had to make light of the heavy moment. He held out the bowl of cookies to you.

"It's a potluck dinner," he explained and then gestured to the cookies. "Mom was already baking, so she figured she might as well make some extras."

"I'm ok," you tried to refuse the cookies.

"You didn't eat dinner last night," he insisted and you guiltily shifted your gaze away from his. "Or breakfast this morning."

He shook the bowl, and you sighed and took a cookie anyway, not willing to explain that you had no appetite. And even if you did, you knew it would turn to sawdust on your tongue anyway.

You stood there and basked in their conversation and in the trick-or-treaters that came. The boys all ooh'd and ahh'd at the visitors costumes; Erica continued to pout about not being able to go to her friends house until her friends actually showed up for treats, then she stood on the lawn and chattered with them until it was time for them to go; and Max...Max just sat there stiffly until the conversation started back up again, her unseeing eyes somehow always locked on you.

Like she was acutely aware of your loathsome presence.

You wondered for a second if she knew something was wrong with you, sensed it through any sort of lingering connection that you left behind when you'd made the journey into her mind. Had you left a bit of yourself in there too? Or maybe you were just reading into it too much?

"When was the last time you celebrated Halloween?" she asked suddenly, startling you from your thoughts. All of the kids turned to you with curious expressions.

"Uh," you frowned and thought about it.

When was the last time?

"Last October I was..."

You knew where you were in November; Nonna had passed away. That anniversary was coming up, wasn't it?

"...I was in upstate New York, trying to stop this old man...Goodrich...from sacrificing virgins in exchange for endless riches."

"Woah," all the kids sat up a little straighter in their seats.

"You know, all the crap we've seen, it would've been nice to have some variety," Will joked. "What else? The year before that?"

Ok...what was that...you remembered wishing you could be back in Hawkins.

"I was in Italy actually," you recalled. "Someone stole the shroud of Turin to invoke the Anti-Christ. It didn't work; that's not what relics are for."

"Ok that's still cool."

"Relics? Like in DnD?" Lucas questioned.

"Yeah," Dustin laughed. "She's a paladin."

"I am not a paladin," you rolled your eyes.

"Yeah you are," he insisted.

The boys all started tripping over themselves asking questions and bickering--even Erica getting into the mix, spouting off facts and stats about DnD gameplay--but Max had to interrupt them with a laugh.

"Halloween! Hello!" she clapped her hands. "You nerds can argue later; I haven't heard an answer to my question yet."

You smiled at them, feeling something akin to relief that they got to behave like silly teenagers amidst all of the bullshit that was brought into their lives.

You didn't want to leave Max hanging though, so you thought back again, and said very casually, "1984...I was in Hawkins that year."

But then you all got quiet.

Because you all remembered what happened, to each of you respectively, in 1984.

You, especially, felt your stomach churn. Not about the tunnels or Eddie or Gabriel or anything else. You remembered where you were on Halloween. Not that far from here, actually. At a party where you came across a drunk Billy Hargrove, Max's brother.

A party where you were dressed like Judith...with the decapitated head of Holofernes.

Your mind raced at all the parallels, at all of the strings that tied everything together. A severed head and Billy Hargrove, these kids in the tunnels, the looming threat of the Upside Down. That even the knife that you'd worn on your belt that night had been the one you'd told Mary Victoria to take from your glove compartment just a few weeks prior.

What was next? Was Gabriel going to show up and lead you on some other fated path? Or was this the end of said path all along?

Speaking of fate...fate was cruel.

Because just like it had three years ago, as the night fell on Hawkins, the horrible creatures of the Upside Down came out to play.

It was almost uncanny how quickly they attacked when the sun finally dipped below the horizon, like they were waiting for the brief reprieve that Eddie had afforded the town to expire so they could go on their hunt.

And you'd just mentioned Samhain, and spirits--monsters--ability to travel between worlds easier; you should have kept your big mouth shut.

You heard the wash of screams first, echoing down the street; initially, it just sounded like the screams of the children, excited for their tricks and treats, but then they grew in volume, and mixed with snarls and death cries.

All of the kids got to their feet, Dustin and Lucas with their weapons of choice in hand, as thundering footsteps seemingly shook the ground below you, and a sea of creatures spilled down the street, all tripping over one another to race to get to their prey first.

You all watched in horror as teeth ripped into flesh and one parent sacrificed themselves so that the other could flee with their children. As a group of younger teens used their treat-filled pillowcases to swipe at the monsters before they succumbed to the overwhelming attack.

Then the bats began to swarm, darting over the tops of houses and swooping to claw and whip and bite from the sky.

"Get inside!" Lucas finally shouted, arm already around Max to lead her towards the door. "Go! Now!"

But his screaming alerted the creatures to your presence, and several of them shifted their momentum to run towards the Harrington's house.

Dustin grabbed your arm and pulled you behind him, as you all scrambled to get into the house. The door slammed shut just as the heft of several demogorgons rammed into the side of the house; they roared from being denied their hunt.

There were shouts from further inside the house as everyone began reacting to the barrage of bodies ramming against windows and walls, and the screams from outside. Joyce had pushed her way past the others to get to her kids, her arms enveloping them in the biggest hug she could. As if she could protect them from the horrors of the world.

In fact, everyone crowded together, holding their loved ones, shushing each other with each and every scream that came from beyond the safety of the house. They chattered over one another, coming up with plans to keep the house secure, barricading doors and possibly boarding up windows. Nancy was at the back of the group, crouched down, trying to comfort Holly who was crying softly and saying something inaudible into Nancy's shoulder.

And then Mary Victoria, who wasn't even part of the group; she just stood back, wringing her hands together nervously.

Mare looked...

She looked fine, but the devil was in the details. Eyes puffy from crying, obviously anxious as you had already observed, she wore the same bloodstained clothes from the other night when you'd brought Steve back.

Guilt ate at you again, another little nibble to your insides where it had taken great big bites before; you hadn't even thought to check on her once you'd gotten back. Instead you'd sat in your self-imposed punishment in the garage, surrounded by guilt and self-pity and death while you waited for the decay of your own existence to consume you.

You were a bad friend...if you were even her friend; you'd doubted that friendship once in the past 48 hours and now here you were, doing it again. Because here the two of you stood, amongst this crowd of family, friends, and neighbors all facing their own demise, staring at each other across a great and unfamiliar void. Each of you alone, but Mary Victoria even moreso.

Because you'd brought her here, you'd left her to her own devices, you'd encouraged her to make friends...and now she'd been abandoned by all of them. By choice or circumstance.

You glanced between Mare and Nancy again, and you were about to open your mouth to address the group, to calm them and come up with a plan when a vicious and unforgiving BANG came from behind you.

The room went silent, and you turned on your heel to stare at the door. Another BANG and then another. The whole group startled as a series of roars also sounded from the other side of the door, and there were even a few frightened sobs.

You, however, stayed rooted in your spot; in fact, you even took a step forward, closer to the door. If something managed to come through, it would deal with you first. Powers or no powers.

At the very least, if it was Eddie controlling the creature, he might even decide to spare you.

Surprisingly, the roaring and the banging stopped, and instead there was scratching at the wood of the door. A single scratch, and then a fast, repetitive barrage of scratches. Then back again to several, single scratches. It was not like a demogorgon. Or a bat.

Something else.

You took another step towards the door and everyone shouted for you to stop.

"What are you doing?" Mary Victoria pushed her way through to the front of the group and grabbed you by the meat of your upper arm, her fingers digging and pinching painfully to hold you back. "Do you have a death wish? There's something on the other side of that door that wants to kill us."

"It would've given up by now," you tried to pull away from her. "Let me go, I think we're fine. This is different."

Mare pulled you closer and you turned to face her to try and get her to let up, but she was quicker.

"You're gonna get us all killed," she hissed at you. "All of these people. Because you have this inherent need to be right, to do whatever the fuck you want. Because you have this savior complex and victim complex and inferiority complex, somehow all at the same time. So can you just. Give. Up."

Each word was said with such bitterness and hatred, and it was justified; if anyone could tell you those things and you'd just stand there and take them, it was her.

That didn't mean you'd listen to her though.

"Maybe I do need to give up," you agreed. "Maybe I am this...awful blight upon the earth."

She faltered, her eyes and voice losing their hardness, and tripped over herself to say, "Well, I didn't mean--"

"You didn't," you interjected. "But I do. You don't need to think all of those things or any of those things about me Mare, I think those things myself. So yes, I am actually all of those things, and probably a million more. But you got one thing wrong. I don't just need to be right.

"I am right," you said with a tone of finality and freed yourself from her grasp.

God, wouldn't this be the moment to prove yourself wrong; here goes nothing...

You reached out and grasped the doorknob, and twisted it.

What was on the other side of the door was unexpected.

A shock, but a good one.

A single demodog, its flesh mottled with cuts at various stages of healing. Its cone shaped head opened and it roared--well,squawked--at you, and then it pushed its body against yours, rubbing against your legs.

"Cerberus," you muttered in surprise.

The group behind you all chattered together and Mary Victoria even said a snide "I didn't know you could domesticate one of those" but you ignored them to pay attention to your little friend.

He was alive; he made it. A little worse for wear, but he made it. The same joyous, light little creature that huffed and batted his head against your hands until you gave him the pets he desired. The same little monster that you felt some kind of affection for because of how much he felt like Eddie, how much he felt like home.

You had so many questions, ones that you knew Cerberus couldn't answer.

Why were the creatures attacking Hawkins again? What did that mean?

Was Eddie enacting some kind of plan to get you back? Had he sent Cerberus because he was the only creature he trusted to find you?

Or worse, was this in response to some kind of devastating loss? Had Wayne finally passed? Was it too late?

As if sensing your flurry of thoughts, Cerberus opened his petal-like mouth and gently clamped down on your wrist, shifting his body back towards the door to pull you forward.

Maybe it was all of the above? Or maybe it was a trap.

"Ok," you nodded and tried to free yourself from his grasp; even though he was a friend and his teeth weren't piercing your skin, you would rather not risk it. "I'll come."

That, of course, wasn't the right response according to the whole group behind you.

"Are you crazy?"

"That thing's a monster; kill it!"

"It was nice knowing you."

Cerberus stomped impatiently when you stopped and turned back to them. Your eyes roamed over each of their faces; you absorbed it all, the hate, the anger, the fear, the uncertainty. No one was going to follow you now, not that many had in the first place. But you had lost any hope of people being in your corner, especially now that you were seemingly making an idiotic choice.

Your gaze finally landed on Nancy, though, who stood protectively in front of Holly, and she hesitated for a moment, then nodded in some sort of pseudo approval.

Her words echoed in your mind: You need to fix this. You're the only one who can.

"I'm doing what you all wanted," you announced to them. "I'm going out into the darkness and either getting myself killed or fixing this absolute mess that I've only made worse since I got here. So either way, you come out ahead."

"We don't want you to die too," Dustin exclaimed with tears in his eyes.

"Dusty," Claudia shushed but you shot, what you were sure was, a tired smile at him.

"They can't really kill me," you explained. "Not if I'm dying anyways."

Dead was dead; you were ending up in the same place, regardless.

"What if," Mary Victoria began then. "What if we just...went into the Upside Down and torched the whole thing?"

"What does that solve?" you asked.

"Nothing, I think it would make me feel better though."

You snorted and laid a hand on her shoulder.

"How about," you raised your eyebrows and tilted your head conspiratorially, "if I do actually die, you get to use all the fire you want to avenge me?"

She contemplated it for a minute then nodded.

"I think I could accept that offer."

Your hand moved from her shoulder to clasp her own for a moment.

"Thank you for coming on this journey with me; see you around, Mary Victoria," you bid her farewell, and then followed Cerberus out into the night.

You were really getting tired of all this walking across town.

If Eddie wanted to chat, there was a perfectly usable gate right around the bend, but no, you needed to go over hill and dale, across the tracks, and now you were in the middle of nowhere.

Shit, if you were smart you would've just driven; gotten in the car and went. Cerberus could've had his head out the window.

Would that be as fun for a demodog as it was for a real dog?

"Maybe if reincarnation is real, in another lifetime, you would be a real dog and Eddie and I would have taken you out for walks. Instead of whatever the fuck this is," you told him when you'd stopped for a rest.

He just stood there and panted at you cutely...or as cutely as he could, considering he was a monster.

"You'd like that huh, Cerbie?" you reached out and gave his little head a pat and he basked in the attention.

Cerberus was doing his best to keep you safe, though; any flapping of wings overhead or snap of a twig and he would turn, hackles raised, and growl to fend off any potentially ill-meaning predators. However, there was one rustle from the trees that didn't sound like anything else, and it had startled you more than any of the other sounds had, but Cerberus seemed to ignore it.

Or maybe tolerate it?

His comrades were out here--the other creatures of the Upside Down--even if he rejected them to stay by your side. The brides could very well be flying overhead, looking for a quick kill and Cerberus knew he couldn't fight them. And Billy was also out there, as far as you knew.

Maybe even back under Eddie's control.

You tried to stay calm, tried to stay brave, and in order to do so, you convinced yourself that Lucy was out there in the darkness. Yes, that must be it; she was following along in her towering Splinter Cat form, as some sort of unseen protection, and Cerberus could sense she was a friend.

You knew better than to call out to her though, to be sure; it would be stupid to invite something to you on a dark and dangerous night.

So you continued your blind belief that it was Lucy.

It was a nice thing to think.

Eventually, you reached...well, you weren't quite sure about it until you got there, but when you got there, you were sore and tired and probably more than a little bruised. Climbing a hill in the dark with a weak body and only a dog-thing for assistance wasn't exactly an easy task. You grumbled and yelped and cursed.

But when you got to the peak of Weathertop, and saw the sprawling landscape of Hawkins below you, you felt some kind of...peace.

Well, as much peace as you could feel, as smoke and glowing fire and the ominous, ever-present red of the active gates illuminated the town.

Aside from the distant silhouettes of bats flitting by, the sky was serene.

That inky black that wasn't really black, but blues and violets and who knew how many other colors that were unseen to the human eye. Stars freckled that infinite and endless expanse of space, twinkling and winking down at the world. Watching, waiting, begging for someone to just look up at them.

The closest someone would ever come to witnessing Heaven before they died. The star-filled sky was a promise.

Living so close to the city all your life, you hadn't ever witnessed the true majesty of the stars and the sky until you ran away from home, and you really never got the opportunity to enjoy it until you came to Hawkins and met Eddie.

In hindsight, it was more special when it was with him.

The closest you might ever come to Heaven had been your time with him too.

"Where is Eddie, anyway?" you tilted your head away from the sky, away from the heartache, and looked back down at Cerberus, only to find that your little friend had vanished.

You called his name once, then again, squinting into the darkness to see if you could make out some shadow of his body running around the grassy hill. You even tried calling for Lucy, on the off chance she was around, but you received no response.

"Just great," you huffed and wrapped your arms around yourself. "When someone finds a demogorgon using my femur to floss its teeth tomorrow, at least Mare will know she was probably right about this being a trap."

You sighed and looked around.

"Or maybe he just got distracted by a squirrel," you rationalized, unsure of the last time your friend got to have a decent meal.

Still, you were alone.

And being alone in the night and the dark had never truly bothered you before; it was knowing that you weren't actually alone that was frightening. Knowing that something was out there, itching to kill you, was the scary part.

At least before, you had your power to protect you.

"What do I have now?" you huffed a sarcastic laugh. "God?"

You looked up to the sky again; hadn't you just thought that the sky was the closest thing to heaven that a human would witness in life? Was he up there watching? Protecting?

"Gloating?" you asked. "Maybe this wasn't Eddie leading me here, maybe this was you leading me on another path so you could gloat. Well here I am! I'm waiting for the 'told-you-so.'"

You held your arms out and tilted your head back and waited.

But nothing came. No voices, no lightning...nothing.

"You could've at least sent Gabe to stare at me with those dead eyes," you finally continued, and folded your arms against your chest once again. "But I know that's not your M.O. No I have to learn lessons myself, I need to earn forgiveness myself.

"Actually," you looked back up at the sky with raised brows, "actually, I have received forgiveness. Eddie gave it to me in the church. So hah. I think I win this battle. I'll be up in heaven soon to lodge my complaints to you in person. And I have a long list."

You laughed at the joke and then really thought about that night in the mirrored version of the church with Eddie. How beautiful and perfect those moments had been. After that, you'd really started to believe that you were worth salvation...and instead, you began your descent into decay.

"Is that what you actually wanted though?" you continued, asking a God that was probably not listening and would never answer. "To be done with this? Just like I am? Done with this curse and this family and this damnation? Done with me?

"I know I haven't been the best, but I think I've done my best, haven't I? Saved so many people, stopped the darkness time and again. How many years have been devoted to your service, to goodness, to the light? Not just by me, by all of the Knights. My nonna? What had she ever done to deserve what she got? We've all done the right thing, done what you've wanted, even if it hasn't been the right way for some of us.

"There had to be a reason for you to have chosen us? Why did you choose them, us, me? When it could've been any old so-and-so off the street. Why did you choose me when you expected me to fail?"

You shouted the last words and then heaved several deep, shuddering breaths, heartbeat pounding in your ears.

Your body was a battleground of sensations and emotions as you tried to recompose yourself: pain and tiredness and sadness and anticipation and love and hate and hate and hate and fear.

And for what?

"Why did you let me taste the light," you muttered desperately, "when the plan all along was for me to die in the dark?"

"We could wait til the morning," came an oil-slick, smarmy voice from behind you. "If that would make you happy."

You whirled on your heel and came face to face with the instrument of your demise.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" You shouted up at the sky, rage engulfing you once again. "You're gonna let Fred kill me?"

You weren't even surprised that you'd die this way. Caught with your metaphorical pants down, yelling at an invisible god, crying pathetically. But if a demogorgon ate you, at least you'd have some kind of dignity; this was just cruel.

"For what it's worth, I'm not the only one who volunteered," Fred sneered.

"That's so comforting," your head snapped back towards him. "And you won? I'm sure you're elated."

"The others got to taste you," he hissed. "It was my turn."

You did your best to stop from gagging; there was no way that Eddie would let him get his hands on you.

"I need to talk to your boss," you demanded. "Put him on the line."

"Eddie's not the boss anymore," Fred spat.

What?

"He won't be taking any calls."

"Then I need to complain to someone in charge," you snarled, trying to keep your sudden panic under control.

Eddie wasn't in charge? What did that mean? The Brides and the other vampires were engaged in some sort of fuckery that you'd witnessed in the Upside Down; you thought that was just to get rid of you, to remove Eddie's distraction, to get some kind of freedom. But to depose him completely?

You expected for Fred to either laugh in your face or cut you down, but instead he did what all of your adversaries tended to do with you: tell you their plan.

How many times had it happened? You must've just had one of those faces...

"When we died," Fred slunk towards you, one slow step at a time, wings dragging on the ground behind him. "Vecna needed us. We became a part of him, a part of the Upside Down, and in return, he regained enough power to cross back into Hawkins and enact his revenge. Our family and friends were killed...and we couldn't do anything to stop it. Until Eddie saved us."

His words were both reverent and wicked, that he saw Eddie as a leader, as a hero.

"He was ours," he said it with such devotion and desperation. "He saved us, gave us our lives back, tried to give us our souls back. And we all belonged in the Upside Down. It kept us whole, alive, together."

You took a step back at that; it kept them whole? The Upside Down? Hadn't you thought that you felt something shift in the realm itself, that it was laughing at you and mocking you? Was it alive?

"It's home," he said, as though he was answering you, and he smiled his terrifying, fang-filled smile. "It takes care of us, it keeps us alive, and in return, we keep it safe. We keep it fed. It just wants to live...and be left alone. Eleven...she opened those doors, and then Vecna kept them open for his own selfish needs...and now Eddie is doing the same.

"Because of you!" Fred lashed out with a claw and you shifted back to dodge it, only to trip on your own two feet and tumble to the ground. "You and his little friends. He clings onto his old life when we've given him everything! He betrays us for all of you! Why does he need them when we're his family now?"

"He deserves to come home," you argued weakly. "He wants to come home; I need him to come home."

"You were just about to give up," Fred taunted. "You were just about to die."

You closed your eyes for a moment, guilt filling you; he was right, you were about to give up.

"What is waiting here for him? What's waiting here for any of us? People who never bothered to mourn us? Who didn't care for us before Vecna? Who see us as monsters now?"

Then there was a shift, a change; something changed, something drastic. The slimy, smarmy, hateful voice of Fred changed--even his posture--and in its place was something different. Something old. The life behind his eyes was gone, and in its place something ancient and eternal and dark.

Not God Himself--not your God--but a God in a way. It was all true, or none of it was; that was your belief. This was the proof of the former. And now the Upside Down would use Fred to cast its final judgement of you.

"They're home," it said, stiffly and forcefully, like the words were difficult to say through this unfamiliar mouthpiece. "Let the doors shut once and for all. They belong with me. They were alone and I kept them safe within me."

It spouted off their names, both ones you recognized and ones you didn't.

Patrick, Barbara, William, Christine

On and on it went.

Frederick, Heather, Wayne, Edward

"Wayne is mine," you snapped at it, then you roared at it. "Eddie is mine."

"Then come and take him," it hissed.

"Or die trying," Fred regained control again and lifted a clawed hand to deliver one final, devastating blow. "Oh no! Too late."

Involuntarily, you closed your eyes to steel yourself from the pain...to prepare yourself for death...and you thought of Eddie. Both as he was before--imperfect, innocent, human--and now--vicious, monstrous, but still so him. You'd done that before, thought of him in the tunnels when you willed yourself to fight for him. Heaven or hell be damned; he would always be your salvation, it seemed, no matter what.

And now?

Now it was too late, and you'd die for him.

At least he'd be the last thing you saw, in your mind’s eye, before you died.

"I'm sorry," you whispered to him, tasting the saltiness of your tears on your tongue.

And you waited.

And waited.

For some sort of pain or blood. Maybe this was how death was, endless nothingness.

But there wasn't just nothing. There was a rustle of grass and leaves of the nearby trees and distant sounds of roaring and screaming from the town as the creatures attacked.

How long were you supposed to wait?

You cracked an eye open, and then blinked them both, and you stared awestruck at the sight before you.

No Fred. No nothing.

Well, not nothing.

A man, unassuming, hands folded behind his back. Dust floated on the air around him, and he stared at it rather than you, no expression on his face other than indifference. Boredom.

Gabriel.

"You fucker," you spat at him.

His brow lifted in amusement, and he spoke softly, "if I recall correctly, we’ve discussed your foul language before."

"I ignored your advice."

"An odd choice. But nothing that I shouldn't expect from you."

You sat up and looked down at yourself; no gaping wounds and nothing untoward, save for the cuts and bruises and scars you previously had.

"Am I dead?" you asked.

"Why do you think you're dead?" he questioned in return.

"Because I was about to be slaughtered by a vampire!" you shrieked.

"Don't you call me your guardian angel?" he shrugged, as if his response was the most obvious thing in the world. "I guarded you. Vanquished the demon."

You struggled to find the words to respond to that, as shocked and confused as you were.

"You...killed Fred?" It was the only thing you could think to ask, and Gabriel seemed irked by the question. "Where the hell have you been--"

"Hell," he repeated distastefully.

"--all the other times I was about to die and I needed you."

"Did you die?"

"What?"

"Have you ever died before?" he clarified.

"I needed you!"

"You thought you needed me," he explained. "You were always capable to solve it yourself. I would like to believe that tonight was a...lapse of judgment."

You let out a dry laugh and pushed yourself back to your feed; Gabriel just watched, no helping hand or anything, fucker.

"Well, thanks," you smiled. "I guess you're gonna leave me high and dry to handle it from here, so I'll be seeing you."

You turned on your heel and started walking down the hill when you blinked and Gabriel appeared before you again.

"It's a coincidence I was already on my way to you," he said, "when your Fred attacked."

"Oh lovely," you snorted. "You heard my little pity speech."

"He did."

It was a record scratch moment, and you balked.

He. He?

"David Lee Roth?" you whispered, trying to seek some comfort in humor even though you knew that this was...you didn't even know how to put to words what this was.

He. The man. The Big Boss. The almighty. God.

"He believes that you are ready," Gabriel nodded, ignoring your joke.

Your throat got tight and your eyes went wide.

"Ready...for the curse to be broken?" you asked.

The corners of Gabriel’s mouth quirked the slightest bit.

"Curse," he repeated, amused this time. "What curse?"

"The...Gabriel, so help me, if you're about to tell me that there hasn't been a curse this whole time..."

"Have you ever wondered," he interrupted you, "what your existence was for?"

"To save the world from the darkness," you replied matter-of-factly. "To end the curse on my family so they could go to heaven."

"Not yours. Humanity."

There was a beat, but then you couldn't help the laugh that escaped your mouth.

Actually, you started laughing uncontrollably, because only you, only you and only on this hill, and only with this angel would you have this kind of a conversation as monsters attacked innocents just a few miles away. After you almost died at the hand of one of those said monsters.

Do you know what the existence of humanity is for, asks the archangel to the lowly human. Good one, Gabe.

But Gabriel just stood there staring at you, earnestly expecting a response.

You sobered up enough and asked your own question, "why?"

Something that you'd come to learn about Gabriel over years of dealing with him was that he didn't like to draw things out. In fact, it seemed like he didn't liked to be here on Earth at all. Which wasn't your business as a human to know why, but was your business as his charge and the only person who could see him. He might have been a confusing bastard, but when information was important to convey, he cut to the chase.

Which was why it was odd when he said, "I'll put this in terms you'll understand: would you like a job?"

"A...job," you parroted. "What do you mean, a job? What job? I already have a job."

"You," he inhaled an unnecessary breath. "You are in training for a job. The job. His job."

And you started laughing again, maybe so you wouldn't start sobbing. But the tears came eventually, as you lost your balance and fell to your knees.

Gabriel was quick to catch you this time though, your body falling against his, arms tight around you. It was such a strange sensation, buzzing, and you weren't quite sure that you'd ever felt his touch before. This holy and pure and burning thing. Maybe when you were a small child and he was a companion instead of a constant reminder of the burden of your existence.

He was quiet as he let you cry in his arms like you had when you were a child, though. He gave you the time and patience that your confusion demanded.

The job. His job. You were ready; He believed that you were ready. The curse. The Knights. The power of heaven that coursed through their beings.

"Gabriel," you finally croaked. "I need you to tell me right now...that the Knights aren't the precursors to becoming God."

"Thou shalt not bear false witness," he recited.

"Are you kidding me?"

"I am not."

"But why me?"

"Why wouldn't it be you?"

"Because God...and the Knights...they're good," you fumbled over your words.

"And you are a Knight."

"But I'm...dark," you choked. "I'm dark and covetous and mean and evil. I'm empty."

"In the beginning," Gabriel raised a brow and looked at you intently with his fiery gaze. "There was darkness."

"And the knights protect people from that darkness," you nodded.

"But if there was only darkness in the beginning," he continued, "doesn't that mean He also came from the Dark? Like you, like everything else. From the Dark, there comes everything. From the Dark, here comes the Light."

You felt like you were losing your mind with how much it made sense; all of the things you knew, all of the things you'd learned and seen. The unjustness and hypocrisies of the church and of humans and monsters alike, all of your beliefs and the beliefs of others. It was all true, all of it.

This...this was the truth.

"But look at me," you grabbed at him desperately. "I'm..."

"You are kind and good," Gabriel began and you couldn't help but let the tears fall at his words, at the negation of every doubt you'd had in yourself over the years. "You protect those who need protection, and you inspire good in others. You see things that are wrong and unjust and you seek to fix them, and when you can't, you don't force them to be fixed. You honor the will of others."

Like every story you've heard.

"But I'm--"

"Made in His image." He nodded. "And ready to take the next step."

"Why this, why now?" you demanded.

"You often say how tired you are. He is tired. It shouldn't have taken this long. He has waited."

"Can I say no?" you whispered.

"No."

You scoffed and shooed him away from you so you could stand on your own and pace.

You tried to come up with every question, every excuse, every...everything that came hand in hand with becoming a God, and you simply couldn't say them fast enough as the answers poured into your head of their own volition. As some sort of...Godliness was anointed upon you, even though you hadn't verbally accepted.

It was all beyond understanding, yet somehow so easy to understand. Knowledge that you were never meant to know, but suddenly knew, and still couldn't reach in its entirety unless you wanted to reach it. Both tangible and intangible. Beyond a fragile mortal mind, and still made to exist in it, as though it was always meant to be there.

Made in His image, indeed.

"What about the Upside Down?" you finally said aloud, and gestured to the town behind you. "What about Hawkins?"

"There are more things in heaven and earth than can be dreamt in your philosophies,” Gabriel recited, surprising you.

“I thought you only knew how to quote religious texts,” you snarked.

“Some doors were never made to be opened," he ignored you. "And it's best if they stay shut forever. I'm sure you'll find your friends will be spared their suffering if you hasten the process of shutting that door again."

Just like Fred had said, just like the Upside Down wanted.

"What about me? My powers? I'm dying."

"In time," he explained. "your soul will heal. If you can recover the rest of it, the process will be easier. You won't die unless you're careless. I will not be able to save you again."

The rest of your soul, the other you, the piece of you that was in Eddie.

"Your power," he continued. "It's been there all along. You always had the capability, it was your lack of faith that led to your weakened state."

You frowned at him in disbelief, but as his words sunk into your mind, you felt the surge inside of you. Heavenly light spread through your body and although you still felt weak, it wasn't a superficial weakness from your wounds anymore. It stemmed from that gaping void at the center of you where your soul was shorn.

There was still that twinkle though, that warm piece of Eddie's soul that seemed to smile and basked in your strength.

Eddie.

"But what about Eddie and Wayne?" you finally asked, desperately.

Their souls, the souls of countless others, all trapped in the Upside Down thanks to Vecna and now the Upside Down itself. You couldn't just leave them there...

You couldn't leave Eddie there.

Gabriel's gaze got stormy then.

"It seems you've made up your mind, Little Knight."

And then, without another word--without so much as a good luck--Gabriel vanished.

November 6, 1983

Eddie spoke a mile a minute in relief at "Wayne's" resurrection; you could barely keep up.

Not that you were really trying to.

You were trying to hold yourself back, not to scream and cry. Not to pull Eddie away from this thing that had stolen his uncle's body.

He wouldn't understand. He wished for things to be better, he lamented being left alone, left behind. And now Wayne was back and everything was alright again.

How could you take that away from him?

He was happy, he was boyish and lively, and the antithesis of everything that his grief had allowed him to become. Not just in the days since Wayne had died, not in the days since she had left, maybe not since he himself had succumbed to Vecna's blight.

It hurt to watch him have hope, when you knew it wouldn't last forever.

And you prayed, to whatever god might be listening--you saw the corner of "Wayne's" mouth quirk--that Eddie would simply sense your apprehension and use some caution at his uncle's so-called resurrection.

But it was pointless.

"How are you alive?" Eddie asked through his relieved tears. "I couldn't heal you; I couldn't help you."

"A miracle," Wayne answered stiffly. "Maybe it was a delayed reaction; you saved me, son."

His words felt wrong; they felt like Wayne's words coming from Wayne's mouth, but there was an underlying lie to every syllable.

He was a predator, and Eddie was the prey.

Prey that walked right into his embrace, willingly.

"We'll get you home," Eddie continued. "Get you back to Rick's and set you up in that armchair with a beer and the tv remote and all of your bonanza tapes. I don't care how many ho-ho's you get at Bradley's for me, you're never coming back here again."

"No!" Wayne snapped at him, startling Eddie.

"W-what?"

"No," Wayne replied in a gentler tone this time. "No, I would rather stay here with you. How could I leave you when I just got back? Why would I ever want to leave you again?"

You felt sick at the manipulation. "Wayne" had been listening the whole time; the Upside Down always listening, ever-knowing, and always aware. Planning and biding its time until...this.

But to what end? Why was he trying to get Eddie to trust him; it wasn't like he could leave?

Oh.

But Eddie wanted to leave. He wanted to go back home, to his friends and to Wayne and to her. He wanted his old life back; he craved it. That home that he'd made, out in the wildness of the dimension past the edges of the mirrored Hawkins; it was a memory and a wish.

But wasn't that exactly what this place was? A memory and a wish and a trap to get you to stay?

And a place that everyone seemed to want to leave.

Vecna had been banished here, and the Upside Down had made a home for him while he'd recovered. Found the mechanisms of his revenge.

Countless souls trapped here--trapped--but instead of letting them wither without a vessel, the Upside Down kept them safe. But souls sought heaven, not whatever restless waste this was.

Eddie had been broken by Vecna, and then rebuilt; just like Vecna, his body couldn't sustain itself in the real world. He was more to the Upside Down than any of the others had been before; he was one of them, a part of the hive mind, part of a greater whole...and still he wished to go home.

Because of you.

You'd been getting him to hold onto his humanity this whole time; you were the only part of his soul he couldn't give up. It wasn't his to give.

Because of her.

She had been helping him. Helping you. She wanted to get him home, and whether she realized it or not she'd been pouring her soul into Eddie bit by bit, mouthful of blood by mouthful of blood; you recognized that as you got stronger and she got weaker. If it wasn't for you, he wouldn't have regained his humanity and she would've just perished.

You realized, horrified, that Eddie, who was torn in two between this world and the real world, now had a choice to m--

Eddie and "Wayne" both doubled over in pain, Eddie clutching his uncle's body in worry, even as anguish ripped through him. Roars echoed from the distance, great monstrous calls of loss. Even you felt the jagged sensations encroaching on the light within the void.

Eddie screeched a sorrowful screech, even more than he had with Wayne's death, and then fell to his knees.

"Wayne" dropped to his knees and pulled Eddie into his embrace; you could feel the dark tendrils of the Upside Down slither across your light as it penetrated Eddie's being once again looking to influence him. You dug your metaphorical feet in and stood as strong as you could against it.

"What's wrong son?" he asked. "What was that? What happened?"

"Fred," Eddie choked. "Something happened to Fred."

He rambled on, as if he couldn't put to words what it was that he felt.

"One minute he was there," he shook his head. "And then the next...I've felt them die before but this...it's like he doesn't even exist anymore.

"Where was he?" Eddie's eyes lost focus as he cast himself into the hive mind, as he tried to reach the other brides. "Hawkins? Why? They all went? Come back!"

He roared into the sky and "Wayne" tightened his grip on Eddie's shoulders.

"They need blood. You need blood. When was the last time you fed?"

"I'm fine," Eddie dismissed.

"Please," Wayne lifted his wrist to Eddie. "You need your strength."

"Eddie, no!" you snapped, interfering for the first time. Both Eddie and "Wayne's" heads snapped towards you, and Wayne even bared his teeth at you, seemingly on instinct. "No."

"No," Eddie shook his head, whether at you or "Wayne" you couldn't tell. Still, he refused his offer, and hauled himself to his feet. "Fred is gone, the others need to come home. We regroup and we figure out what happened; I can't...I can't lose anyone else."

He took a step away from "Wayne" and his wings flapped as he readied himself to take to the skies, but "Wayne" stopped him.

"What if," he began. "What if you could guarantee everyone stays safe? What if we all stayed here?"

"I don't," Eddie's brow furrowed and he paused and you closed the distance and latched yourself onto him again, staring right at Wayne as you willed the light to shine brighter.

"Why would you stay here?" you asked him. "Why should your uncle want to stay here? Think about everything waiting in Hawkins for the both of you. TV and beer and friends and music and..."

"Close the gates and protect yourself," Wayne pleaded. "Protect the friends that you have left. If your friend Fred is gone, you need to protect the others, they're the only things you have left."

It was a battle of wills as "Wayne" spoke to Eddie in one ear, and you spoke to him in the other. It was a battle that you knew you would never win; not against some eldritch being, some sentient deity of another dimension, while you weren't even whole.

"They aren't. Eddie you have them, you have them all. Your friends. Your friends. You hurt them and still they trusted you, still they believed in you. To fight against Vecna."

"They left you, they don't care about you. They always leave you. They've never understood you. Never wanted you. You're an outcast. A freak."

"I'm a freak," Eddie frowned, tears glistening in his eyes once again. "They never wanted me."

The thing about that was that you were human, and so was Eddie. That was some advantage that this thing believed it had over you, to use Eddie's humanity against you.

But then, you realized...that was the only advantage you had.

"Home, Eddie," you whispered desperately now and let the seed of the idea be planted deep within him. Not just for him, but for you too. "You want to go home. She's there, she needs you. She's waiting for you Eddie. You can cross the gate and go to her; I know you can."

"I want," he shook his head and looked at Wayne, his own internal battle going. "I want..."

You could feel it, it was on the tip of his tongue; he wanted to go home.

Get there, Eddie, say it.

But he couldn't.

So the battle raged on between an angel and devil on either of his shoulders.

October 31, 1987

The walk back to the Harrington’s was another solitary one.

Thankfully, you had the strength to do it this time.

It was also strange having your powers back.

Back, as though they'd gone anywhere according to Gabriel.

At first, you thought that was a bullshit response—you lost your power because you believed you lost your power; you felt the Upside Down or Eddie or whatever drain you, so you willed you’re own demise—but you knew that beliefs were important. You'd once told Eddie, on the anniversary of his mother's death, that Heaven was anything that she wished it to be. Anything that he wished for her, too.

And in some way, in your newly-acquired God-knowledge, you felt some sort of reassurance that Eddie's mother had received exactly what she believed Heaven to be. It was a warm feeling and it bloomed inside of the void as your Eddie rejoiced in it too.

You giggled at the feeling; it almost tickled.

"Gonna have to get used to that," you rubbed the space over your heart.

You tried to conjure other thoughts, other truths--what Heaven was for your Nonna, your entire family line now that you knew the curse dead broken, for all intents and purposes. You questioned what taking this job really meant...did that mean endless power and immortality? What were your responsibilities? What could you control? Did that mean that you were Gabriel's boss now too? Would he come if you called? Prayed?

That just brought the question of prayers themselves/ You couldn't hear any, from anyone; did that mean they never made it to God in the first place?

However, your thoughts were cut short when you sensed something dreadful happening ahead. It was innate; someone was in danger, in pain, and you knew.

With your restored strength, you took off running, each footstep taken with surety. Until you came across a pack of demogorgons tearing into the flesh of a still-screaming woman.

It didn't take much to kill them.

You reached out and conjured the fires from the depth of the earth to melt their flesh into the ground. You were shocked to find that the fact that their bodies and spirits and minds were not of this earth affected you. It was like a static shock, surging up your fingers. You winced when the last of them let a death cry out into the night, and rubbed your fingers together to ease the sting.

Killing monsters hadn't ever done that before; was that the Upside Down reacting to an adversary attacking it? Or perhaps it had something to do with your soul still being fragmented?

Now that you were aware of the complexities of your existence, fragmented wasn't even the right word in the first place; missing was the more accurate description. The part of you that Eddie had, the other you, was more you than you were right now. Exponentially so. You already knew something was missing, that you had scraps, but...you didn't even have scraps.

You had threads.

What did that mean? Did that mean if you let your soul heal that there would suddenly be another you out there? Would she eventually fade away? Did she just belong to Eddie now, like the Eddie in you belonged to you? How could you even heal it, when there was so little of you left? Your God-knowledge reassured you, but there was still so much confusion.

"Help," the choking voice of the woman broke you from your wondering, and you closed the distance and lowered yourself to her side.

It was a horrific sight; she was bleeding, dying, disemboweled, and missing chunks of flesh. And in the dark, you could see the wisps of her soul begin to depart from her body, ready to make the ascent. It was a sight to behold, one that you only really sensed before and never saw.

"My...daughter," she gasped. "I...can't..."

"It's ok," you shushed her, and cast out a calming energy. "It'll be ok."

With the shackle of your curse and of the church finally broken, you did what you'd always known was right; you reached out and set your hand on her torn shoulder and you cast your healing light into her, poured life right back in as it escaped from her body. Her skin knit back together, her midsection and her other wounds healed in the blink of an eye, until she simply lay there, whole, in the puddle of her blood and demogorgon guts.

It felt good, it felt right, like this was what you were meant to do all along. Your nonna’s words echoed in the back of your mind: you were made for miracles.

You held the woman as she cried, shushed her and reassured her, and then you realized that there was someone else that needed you more than she did right now.

You left her with a soft touch to the top of her head, and then set forth again, running as fast as your body could bear. It still wasn't easy, you hated running--

What good was being a God if you still sucked at running?

--but you finally made it to the Harringtons.

In fact, you bypassed the house entirely and threw open the garage door to reveal Steve's body still on that table.

There was a horrible pang in your heart as you laid eyes on him.

The wisps of his soul had almost fully departed his body; they were thin and faded, and he was almost gone. Gone to heaven, you knew instinctively, whatever that looked like for him.

Could you heal him? Revive him?

Should you?

He'd fought this fight against the Upside Down for a long time; would it be better to let him go? Maybe if you'd have realized that you were the one holding yourself back right after Eddie had done this to him, you wouldn't have had such hesitation and you would've resurrected him immediately.

But now?

Was this what being a God was like? Making decisions. Or, more appropriately, not making them? Making the wrong ones?

You continued to contemplate for a moment, then you reached out to try and touch one of the wisps of Steve's soul. They were intangible, but they intrinsically felt like a finely woven cloth, so many aspects of Steve intermingled with his friends and his family and neighbors.

You even felt a little bit of Eddie in there, the tiniest bit; echoes of the two of them walking amidst a cropping of trees in the Upside Down...talking.

Steve was one man...but his friendship and his protection touched and affected so many. Nancy had said how long he'd fought and how much he'd lost; you knew that feeling, and if you were to die...you'd probably wish to stay dead instead of continuing fighting for longer.

"That's a lie and you know it, sweetheart," Eddie whispered inside of you.

For a second, you were distracted by the smug realization that he wouldn't be able to call you Angel anymore.

"You'll always be my Angel."

And he'd always be the pain in your ass.

"So what are you gonna do?"

"What would you do?" you asked aloud.

He had the good sense to remain silent, though.

You sighed and hung your head, then moved your hand down to place on Steve's forehead.

"I'm sorry I caused this," you whispered to him. "I'm sorry I got the ball rolling on this chain of events; if only I knew what I was doing, things could've been different. I could've saved more people instead of being so selfish; I could've found a way to help and I could've gotten myself here some other way."

Could you have, though? Or had this always been the path?

"But there's no use in dwelling in the past," you continued. "I need you to know now...if I bring you back, it's not going to be easy. I need to fix this, I need to end this. And I'm going to need your help to do it. Save Eddie, save Wayne, save as many of our friends as we can, save Hawkins. You might die again. Shit, Gabriel said I might even die if I'm not careful."

You sensed a bit of apprehension in the lingering soul of Steve Harrington; he wanted to live, but he also didn't want to die again.

"This time, though, if you die...you die protecting your friends, instead of getting your head torn off because of me," you offered him. "So what do you say Steve? You up for one last hurrah? For Hawkins?"

And you couldn't help but laugh as the shape of Steve's soul shifted and almost looked like someone standing with their hands on their hips.

You pressed one hand to Steve's forehead and the other to his chest and you closed your eyes; you thought back to that night in the rain, the way that Billy...Eddie had torn into him, the sound of him choking, the breaking of his spine.

You let the images repeat themselves over and over again as you stayed there on the ground, helpless.

Eventually though, as the scene began again, you picked yourself up, and you walked over to Billy and Steve. You reached out and you stopped Steve's body from falling, and you stepped into him. You didn't need to pour yourself, you didn't need to imagine the threads of his being knit back together; no, you pushed the very essence of life and survival and love and friendship and everything that Steve was back into him.

You let your nimble, phantom fingers stitch his severed head back on with the threads of his soul that had escaped. You willed the blood to flow through his veins instead of spilling onto his clothes. You breathed life back into his lungs; you took every breath for him and with him, until you felt his chest rise and fall under your touch once again without your guidance.

You opened your eyes and stepped back; with baited breath, you watched as Steve's limbs twitched. He groaned and pushed himself upwards with those limbs until he was seated upright. He held his head with his hands, and then shifted them downwards to touch the now-thicker scar encircling his neck.

You cast one more wave of yourself, of your knowledge and plans, into him. You gave him one last chance to turn back and deny another chance at life.

Why did you ever think he would deny it?

Finally, he opened his eyes and locked them right onto yours.

"So," he said with a gravelly voice. "Are we gonna save the world, or what?"

"You are the light in a dark place. You are the water to my drought. You are everything I never knew existed and everything I wanted all at the same time." — Shelly Crane, Catalyst

Next Chapter: Atonement COMING SOON

[juhaknyeonies]

choi seungcheol smau (scoups)

music major!seungcheol x cinematography major!reader

summary: you left home early and don’t have anyone to dorm with at the dorms so you take up rent with a friend, you need to find a job but it’s been a struggle for you and you can’t just let your friend pay rent by yourself so when you find a job you immediately take it but what you didn’t realise was this job had you moving around a lot more than you wanted too. atleast he’s rich, right?

genre: humour, fluff, romance, slight angst

warnings: landlord is a prick, sick people (illness), isolation and arguements

started 27/06/23 - ended tba

updates: every saturday and thursday

feel free to ask to be apart of taglist

a/n: i am not american so the dates when the academic term starts and ends may be a little different, also years of when certain people graduate will be different based on their major.

term 1: early february - early april (beginning of the academic year)

2 week break

term 2: late april - late june

2 week break

term 3: late july - late september

2 week break

term 4: early october - mid december (end of academic year)

6 week break and repeat again

the beginning

profiles 1 (y/n’s squad 😝)

profiles 2 and 2.5 (12 broke uni students + mingyu)

beginning of academic year

recording #1: day too early..

recording #2: job stealer

recording #3: the girl in vernon’s class

recording #4: ncity liquor

recording #5: job interview = happy cheol

recording #6: can you drive??

recording #7: today is not my day

recording #8: guilty

recording #9: are you girlypop?

recording #10: accidentally asked a girl out…

recording #11: cute

recording #12: sleep on the floor

recording #13: texting, i’m bored

recording #14: my fav cousin

recording #15: i wanna go, but i don’t but i did!

recording #16: drunk one-sided fight

recording #17: not jeonghan approved

recording #18: they finally did work!!

recording #19: stupid landlord

recording #20: sorry lee seokmin

recording #21: no they aren’t actually dating.. yet!

recording #22: he’s whipped whipped

recording #23: rtl or fear?

recording #24: rejected but not to your face.. ouch.

recording #25: y/n’s twitter

recording #26: delulu

recording #27: woozi got my back

recording #28: ngl thought it was obvious

recording #29: best wingmans ever

recording #30: spending $127 on someone (simp!)

recording #31: something on your mind

recording #32: oh okay

recording #33: mansae mansae mansae

recording #34: i’m sorry, it was urgent

recording #35: yayaya lets have fun!!

recording #36: gotta go (not by chungha)

recording #37: just s.coups and woozi

recording #38: jeonghan and y/n

recording #39: get on twitter!!!

recording #40: im back, im sorry

recording #41: same dream, same mind, same night

recording #42: cinematography is fun

recording #43: regular (job version)

recording #44: ubb file??

recording #45: creation of adore u (wip)!!

recording #46: quiet

recording #47: for you ofc <3

recording #48: its obvious i adore you

recording #49: lets wait for the future

recording #50: thank you

end of academic year

[raccoongrippers]

Finally finished this WIP after nearly half a year, maybe a little bit longer. Anyway, enjoy, or..don't. I probably shouldn't say that, this isn't the most uplifting artwork.

Fair warning, this art briefly/barely contains reference of SA and shows a small amount of bruising on the face, some hickeys, nothing too serious. Flashbacks in nightmare form.

This ends with cuddles of love and comfort, I swear. Also, my art style was so crappy back in 2023 (when I started this), so you can hardly even tell. That's only barely a lie.

Nothing below the chest is shown, ever.

So sorry, y'all. I was really dead set on morbid themes back when I started this, jeez. I think this was started in mid December of 2023? Couldn't tell ya.

[cauldronblssd]

AO3 | Instagram

Masterlist:

Fics:

Elucien:

Found in the Sunlight - WIP : AO3

Watch It Glow - WIP : AO3

Morning Edition : AO3

We’re Leaving the Planet, and You Can’t Come - WIP : AO3

Commissions:

Elucien - Mating Bond

Jassa

Elucien - Dancing*

Elucien - Kissing*

Elucien - Sunlight*

Elucien - Water*

AzrisWeek2024 - Contact*

Azris - Pride*

Elucien - ABITD*

Elucien - Art Nouveau*

ElucienWeek2024 - Fated*

ElucienWeek2024 - Adventurers*

ElucienWeek2024 - High Society

ElucienWeek2024 - Masks*

ElucienWeek2024 - Tension/Healing*

CassianWeek2024 - Hair*

CassianWeek2024 - Family*

Elain - Knitting*

Elain - Lingerie*

RhysandWeek2024 - Carynthian*

RhysandWeek2024 - Lord of Night*

ErisWeek2024 - Bonds*

ErisWeek2024 - Traditions*

ErisWeek2024 - Free Day*

Misc:

Found in the Sunlight Artwork - Gifted by climbthemountain2020*

A Hearbreak in Mid-December - Gifted to climbthemountain2020*

Head Canon - Lucien and Eris

Head Canon - Elain and Lucien

Head Canon - Elain and Lucien 2

*indicates a collaboration or group comm/project

[zuppizup]

Work in Progress Wednesday

So, I’m hoping to have both my big WIPs wrapped up and concluded before S7 drop. To try and ensure I’m not overtaxing myself, I’ve set some tentative dates for when I want to post.

Purgatory: Final three chapters + epilogue 4th Nov, 18th Nov & 2nd Dec - I’m writing the final chapters and epilogue as essentially on long chapter and then splitting them. This is to ensure continuity as I wrap up the entire thing. Most of it is written, but I want to ensure it all makes sense in the end as a cohesive unit.

Zoom-mates: Final chapter + epilogue (and potentially a final After Hours) Planned for mid-December. I do have a lot of the chapter written, but I’m re-reading the whole thing (why did I make it so long! 😭) so I can ensure I’ve tied up any loose ends before clicking the complete button. I’m also editing the formatting and links, which is time consuming but something I want done before I call it done.

Other Fics:

In Absentia: I have completed draft one of the next chapter, but I’m letting it sit for a day or two before going back to edit. Hoping to up-date Sunday or Monday.

Started some of my snake boi Callum fics for Snake boy Callum Week III. With my the fics up above, I might not get anything done other than this fic (let just say, it’s quite the emotional roller coaster and I’ve had to step away from a few times since I started brain storming it yesterday).

A Dark Alternative: continuing to up-date weekly on Wednesdays

Bloodythirsty - Halloween up-date mayhaps?

[sugarpsalms]

WIP Wednesday WIP Wednesday! Don't ask where this falls on the No Loyalty timeline bc I originally planned something else for part 3; but after writing for a while I'm starting to think I'd like that better LATER (re: when the target dynamic more fully cooked), so um. Maybe this is from part 3. maybe not. don't look too hard at my system of organizing

—

It wasn’t lost on him, how unbelievably lucky he’d gotten. Rosinante could’ve avoided him for the rest of his life. Doflamingo would’ve never gone looking—too afraid, deep in his gut, of what he’d find. He hadn’t even had the stomach to daydream about Rosi in years.

In those early days, when he first lost him, he thought about his little brother so much that he made himself sick. It'd gotten too painful, too quickly, to wonder where Rosi was or what he was doing; who he was with and if they knew how to brush his hair to keep it from frizzing. So he stopped. He put Rosi up on a high shelf in his mind, somewhere he didn't reach for things often, like an old doll. Sometimes he took him down, but never for long, just to make sure he hadn't dry rotted.

Rosi's reappearance had ruined that system.

Seeing him again, tall and bright and beautiful, had done something strange to that doll in Doflamingo's brain. It brought it to life, and now it wouldn't sit still. It kept taking itself down off the shelf and going walking.

Doflamingo couldn't stop thinking about him. It was distracting.

Months passed. September slipped into October and became mid-November, then early December. It started snowing. Spider Miles got colder and drabber. Still nothing from Rosinante.

Doflamingo bore it. He could be patient.

He didn't leave port that season, but Trebol did. The man offered to handle some business for him out at sea. Doflamingo saw him off, said goodbye until spring, and planned to spend the next few months working.

Then it was January, flipping over to February.

He couldn't concentrate.

[deadgirlwalking91]

WIP Update

Honestly, I'm putting this out there more for my own accountability because now that work travels have (hopefully) slowed down (one trip to go in December!!!), I can focus more on my writing and wrap up some stuff!

Apologies for the lack of updates lately. Real life stuff has been incredibly hectic, but the good news is I should have a little more free time coming up so please keep your fingers crossed that the writing gods are good to me!

Thank You for the Venom 19

Publish by mid next-week at the very latest. Hoping to wrap up the entire fic by the end of the year.

Friends with Benefits 4

Publish by the end of the week; wrap up by mid-November (this was supposed to be completed by the end of October, whoops)

Three's Company

Publish by mid-November; but honestly you're all going to get snippets on here in the lead up, haha

I Don't Dance

Publish by the end of November; I promise I'm not ignoring this (as much as I whinge about this fic, I do enjoy writing it).

Thou Shalt Not aka Priest AU

Whenever Nerve and I get around to writing together next, haha

Sunday Morning

Need to plan. ETA unknown.

The Ghost of You

4 chapters outlined; need to keep planning and outlining. Posting will be dependent on when TYFTV wraps up.

Guitar(spear) Solos, Fuck Yeah!

Taking a little bit of a backburner with this one until I catch up... unless I'm hit with inspiration, haha.

The Rice Demon

Aim to finish by the end of November. Hilarity will ensue.