#no matter where in the world i am come october i WILL be back in california for this

[leonardcohenofficial]

JONI TICKETS HAVE BEEN SECURED JONI JAM ROUND TWO IS HAPPENING

[tiramisuc0ffee]

The Ghost of You.

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pairing: Gojo Satoru x f!reader

Summary: Mechmaru manages to succeed in informing the higher-ups of Jujutsu Tech about the patchwork curse's plan to seal the strongest sorcerer, Gojo Satoru. With this, the higher-ups begin formulating a plan on how to secure their victory and take advantage of the information bestowed onto them. However, one thing Gojo could not have thought to be suggested was, you, who supposedly died over a decade ago.

warnings/tags: Takes place before the Shibuya incident arc. Brief mention of events that took place in JJK0. Mentions of death. There is angst but also fluff! Soft sex, Satoru really loves you :(( Friends to lovers(?) SMUT. MDNI.

word count: 10k+ (I NEED HELP)

Bonus Prequels: i. Warm Afternoons ii. Cold Nights

☆~~~~☆~~~~☆

"A sorcerer that's able to amplify the cursed techniques of others? Something like that is possible?"

Itadori Yuji's eyebrows furrowed as he voiced his question, contemplating the words that Principal Yaga had just spoken to the assembled group of Jujutsu students and sorcerers.

The atmosphere in the meeting room was tense and undeniably suffocating. It had been a matter of hours since Mechumaru's warning had been delivered. A plan to seal away the strongest sorcerer, Gojo Satoru, into the prison realm, and to bring complete and utter chaos to Shibuya and its civilians on October 31st.

Those gathered in the room were fully aware of how crucial this advantage was and how important it was to utilize it. However, there was also a mutual understanding that the perpetrators had to be aware of their own disadvantage, and would have to find some way to compensate for their slip up.

This brought an endless amount of "what ifs" into question.

"Yes. Someone like that exists with such a technique. The ability to not only limitlessly amplify their own raw cursed energy but to amplify the cursed energy and the techniques used by anyone they come into contact with" Yaga responds to Itadori's question.

"What if we just simply don't send Gojo-Sensei into Shibuya?" Itadori then says with such carelessness, as if it's the most obvious answer in the world. "If that person can amplify their energy limitlessly, don't we basically have our own super soldier who can overpower anyone alone?"

It is then Megumi who cuts in with a calm rebuttal, his eyes narrowing slightly. "It's not about having unlimited cursed energy, Itadori. There are inherent limitations to such abilities. Even for someone who can amplify cursed energy, there's a threshold to how much they can sustain. Using cursed energy at such heightened levels consecutively poses significant risks and exacts a toll on the user."

Yaga sends a slight nod in Megumi's direction, confirming the information he shared with Itadori. "It is also unlikely our perpetrators will reveal themselves unless Satoru is present. Rushing in prematurely not only risks escalating the danger but also endangers innocent civilians, who could become casualties as a means to negotiate Satoru's presence."

A beat of silence fills the air.

"We, however, are getting ahead of ourselves," Yaga then continued, redirecting the focus "We have yet to establish contact with this sorcerer".

Gojo had been uncharacteristically silent amidst this discussion despite it heavily revolving around him. Between the relentless back and forth of his peers and students who each were chiming in with their own individual questions, wonders, and suggestions - he sat in his chair, arms crossed, leaned back, and sporting an expression that no one other than Shoko Ieiri could understand.

Her tired eyes fell onto the snow-haired man, noticing his stiffness and unusual quietness. She too understood where this conversation was headed and what words were about to be announced.

"Some of you already know who I am talking about. Yes. (L/N), (Y/N). A past student here at Jujutsu Tech, who was once presumed dead, has been rumored to be alive," Yaga finally discloses, his tone laced with a certain firmness. "And over the course of several years, we have finally managed to narrow down her general whereabouts".

Satoru felt his jaw clench ever so slightly. Shoko notices.

"If we wish to minimize casualties and maximize our strength- It is crucial that we locate her and attempt to persuade her to join our cause" Yaga continues with determination.

Chatter began to fill the room as Yaga took a momentary pause, his gaze shifting onto Satoru as if to gauge his reaction. The topic at hand brought forth several mixed reactions. Rumors in the form of hushed words floated around the room, some true some false as some even questioned who you were and how you met your demise.

But all Satoru could hear was your name. Repeated. Over and over.

...You... were alive...

"However," Yaga broke the silence once more, his voice cutting through the room and his gaze remaining on the blindfolded man, "we can't just send anyone to convince her. We suspect there is a veil with special conditions where she resides."

Satoru's teeth grits and his fingers dig into his sleeves ever so slightly.

"Only Special Graded Sorcerers can enter and leave the veil as they please. Though, this won't affect the plan I originally wanted to propose."

"There is only one person we can send in after her."

"Satoru."

---

It was a tranquil scene. A vast expanse of green and rolling hills for the eye to see. An empty clearing surrounded by trees. The grass swayed gently with the wind, creating this ocean-like rhythm to it. Leaves danced through the air, being carried along effortlessly and brushing past Satoru's figure.

And of course, at the utmost center, a pitch-black dome stood in contrast to its surroundings. A veil.

This was the alleged location of where you resided.

The meeting concluded with Yaga requesting that everyone but him and Satoru leave the room. As individuals shuffled towards the exit, Satoru's gaze met Shoko's briefly as she sent a small sympathetic nod in his direction. She knew better than to try and console him or give him a mess of strung-together comforting words.

His lips thinned in response, not giving any further acknowledgment to her gesture. They both knew he wasn't one to show his underlying emotions to anyone.

However, he found it surprisingly difficult to suppress his personal feelings as Yaga disclosed your potential coordinates to him. Normally, he was able to compartmentalize these sorts of things in his brain without worry. Dethatching his emotions from the work he had to do because, at the end of the day, these were the things that simply needed to be done.

"I understand how you may feel, Satoru. But I know you understand the importance of her recruitment and why you have to be the one that goes after her"

It just had to be done. There was no negotiating that.

He allowed a faux wide smile to take over his features as his eyes stared at Yaga through his blindfold.

"Leave it to me."

But deep down, he wasn't all that shocked that he had been bothered by all of this.

This was you we were talking about after all.

Satoru couldn't help but chuckle to himself quietly, he thought about how this is exactly the kind of location a sorcerer such as yourself would choose to hide. For a moment he wondered what took Yaga and the others so long to narrow down your whereabouts.

But a frown tugged at his lips. It's not like he was any better.

He began to walk towards the center of the clearing, heading straight towards the veil before him, his footsteps being muffled by the soft grass underfoot.

Everything up until this point had just been speculation. Right now everything was nothing more than mere rumors. Whispered theories. Red strings on a corkboard. There hadn't been any concrete evidence, no sightings in public, no security footage, no candid photographs that proved you still existed in today's society.

But as he approached the outer rim of the veil, his eyes boring into the deep pool of black- It dawned on him.

He picked up the lingering traces of cursed energy.

And without another thought, he walks through the veil with ease.

---

"You're wasting your time on training? Come watch a movie with me, I haven't seen you all dayyyyy!!"

Satoru's whiney voice echoed throughout the open space of the gym from the moment he entered and spotted your figure. Your back is turned to him as you swing at a punching bag in front of you.

It was both of your second year at Jujutsu High. And as per usual, Satoru was putting all his energy into annoying you rather than into anything productive. Despite your irritation, there was no mistaking the undeniable bond that you and he shared. You and Satoru were attached at the hip. Wherever you were, Satoru was there. And wherever Satoru was, you were right there at his side rolling your eyes at something he said.

He kept his gaze on your form, watching as you paused briefly before sending him a sour look. He let out a small snicker in response as he couldn't help but find your annoyance amusing.

"Yes, Satoru. I am training. Some of us take pride in putting in the hard work." You say with a pointed voice before continuing to throw punches, practically sensing the shit-eating grin that had been developing across his face.

He purses his lips, he didn't necessarily disagree with your mindset per se, but he always found it humorous to get a small rise out of you- that and he would rather die than ever utter the words "I agree" to you. You'd never let him live it down.

"Like you need to do that," He says with a careless shrug. "You're strong as is." He beams in your direction as he starts walking towards you, getting close enough to be able to watch as your face contorts into one of confusion before giving your shoulders a gentle roll. You continue to throw punches.

He huffs when he doesn't get a single word out of you, his smile only faltering for half a second when he finally gets close enough to you. He carefully studied your expression. The way you were so focused and determined, the way your eyes held that look of concentration whenever you were focused and putting your mind to something, he loved it. Even though he thought that you'd always been a bit of a pushover, he couldn't deny your dedication was admirable.

"Can you back up, you're in my space." you then say, more of a demand than an ask as you recognized how close he was getting to you.

He ignores your quip, not moving an inch, "C'mon short-stack, people like us don't have to worry about tedious things such as training." He said in turn, sending a knowing look your way. You knew that he believed what he was saying too, which was irritating. He fully knew the strength behind both yours and his techniques. The baseline of power for the two of you was lightyears ahead of many measly sorcerers.

"You're so full of yourself" You scoffed, pausing once more, letting your arms drop to your sides and finally turning to face him fully. "All you do is go on about how you're the strongest. Now please, back up Satoru," you said with a harsh glare before poking his chest with your pointer finger.

He didn't move an inch, infinity not even needed for him to continue to stand tall above you, his grin stretching out to a full-on smile.

You didn't know it, but he had just won. At least, he felt like he did.

He's gotten your full attention.

"Ooh, I like it when you get all snappy and bossy, it’s a good look on you." He looks down at you with smugness as his glasses slip down the bridge of his nose ever so slightly revealing those deep blues of his "And so what if I'm cocky? You act like I can't back it up." he said, getting in your face, grin continuing to grow.

You shot him a look of disgust, letting out a fake gag. "You're so cringy when you try to act cool to me," you said to him, letting your face continue to distort with pseudo-nausea.

He feels his heart drop to his stomach before he lets out an exasperated cry. "What do you mean cringy??", he says incredulously as his smug demeanor washes away and his ego takes a small blow.

His expression has you laughing, and he watches on as your head swings down and you drift away from his gaze, clearly showing your annoyance has melted.

The same could have been said for his heart.

He then watched as you let out a soft sigh before undoing the bandages you've wrapped around your knuckles slowly. You lift your head once more and turn to face him before gently nudging his side.

"You're insufferable... So what are we doing?" you say, flashing him the smallest of smiles, finally giving in to the request that he gave when he first entered the gym.

He let out a small cheer as you'd relent, momentarily swinging his arm around your shoulders and then grimacing when realizing you were sweaty. He'd make some sort of a remark which in turn earned him a firm punch to his arm.

He laughed watching your cheeks heat with embarrassment before whisking you away to get caught up in whatever nonsense his mind concocted for the day.

Satoru had a soft spot for you. Anyone with a brain could understand that if they had ever seen you two together.

There had always been a loneliness he shouldered in life, one that was a side effect of being the strongest. It was... a weird sort of isolation. Being above everyone else. Watching below as everyone fought to reach the summit. But- not ever stopping to realize the sharpness of the cold air and deafening silence that accompanied it.

It was loneliness that only the strongest could have understood.

A loneliness that you and Suguru understood.

You all shared some level of a similar burden, understanding how many people depended on you each waking day. The roles in which you all played, often being on the frontlines and confronting the possibility of the erasure of mankind every day. It was a pressure no one else could truly and utterly comprehend and face.

However, things were just a little more different with you.

While his friendship with Suguru provided great understanding, respect, admiration, and care-

What the two of you had always felt as if it ran so much deeper than that. There was what he considered to be a frightening amount of vulnerability that came with your connection.

A mix of private conversations. Unspoken words. Gentle touches. Knowing looks... Tears that he would normally never let anyone see.

There was love.

A love that surpassed the means of friendship.

It was unspoken of course. And he constantly used to wonder if it was mutually understood. As if you two knew what you meant to each other without having to say it. That each action, each second spent together, every vulnerable moment served as a confirmation of the ways you two depended on each other.

But after the death of the Star Plasma Vessel and soon the betrayal and departure of Suguru. You began to slowly fade away. It wasn't evident at first. Not at all. His mind was far too deep in sorrow and mourning to the point of being desensitized.

But, gradually, Satoru noticed how your face, your voice, your whispered conversations, gentle touches, knowing looks, all those things that were once a constant... slowly started to disappear from his life.

And then the announcement of your death came.

After being sent out on your own for a mission to defeat a First Grade curse, you never returned.

You were overpowered. Killed and eaten. There were very few remains that were recovered. Only your cursed weapon shattered, and tears of your uniform were found. Not even a trace of a corpse, even when the curse had been exorcised.

That was what he was told.

He didn't believe it at first. How could you have lost? To something he knew you were levels above? He spent days, texting your number only to get no answers, calling to be sent straight to voicemail. Returning to that damn worn down office building where you supposedly died, searching each floor, calling your name.

At least with Suguru, he knew exactly what happened. Even if it was by his hand.

But there was never any ease, never any reassurance when it came to what happened to you. Somehow the factor of that unknown and not bearing witness made it harder for him to comprehend it all.

It was a newfound revelation that shattered something within him that day.

He was alone. Truly and utterly alone once again.

And the summit felt as if it started to freeze over him.

---

A quaint house stood tall and nestled amidst the center of the veil, a single-story abode framed by a winding path that beckoned him forward. As Satoru approached, his gaze wandered over the meticulously tended garden, rows of vibrant vegetables somehow thriving within the sealed-off area. Each step along the gravel path stirred soft crunches of pebbles, a rhythmic accompaniment to his thoughts.

He ascended the weathered steps leading to a porch, their edges softened by what seemed like years of use. The wooden planks creaked subtly under his weight as his eyes traced the length of the porch. Potted plants brimmed with colorful blooms, their fragrance mingling with the earthy scent of the garden.

Reaching the front door, he paused briefly, hand hovering over the worn brass knob before he grasped it firmly and turned. The latch clicked softly as the door swung open and a hint of surprise sparks within him as he registers that the door was not locked.

His eyes peer into the home only for a mere couple of seconds. The interior is dim, but he can make out several pieces of furniture, decor, and appliances.

It was clear that this house was actively lived in.

However, his mind doesn't give him the room or time to even try and analyze or more so criticize the decor anymore as his eyes quickly take note of two things.

A cup of coffee steaming on the countertop near the kitchen.

And the back door is ever so slightly ajar.

Whoever lived here- was here recently.

Satoru's focus is all but shattered when the loud, whiny, sound of creaking wood fills his ears and immediately his head snaps in the direction of where the noise had come from. Now leaning away from the front door and letting the hand that once grasped the doorknob fall to his side, his eyes settle onto the only other structure in the vicinity.

A barn.

He pursed his lips, his brain processing the information and the infinite amount of possibilities at a million miles per second. It humored him that whoever this was had essentially cornered themselves and did nothing but give away their element of surprise by carelessly making such a racket.

His eyes then narrowed, and his feet carried him towards the wooden structure.

But given the conditions of the veil and the possibility that this could be you. Clearly whoever or whatever this was, was skilled and the noise made was nothing but bait. And by entering the barn, he would essentially be walking into the palm of their hand.

A smile stretched across his lips. That didn't matter though. As if anyone could lay a finger on him.

He nudges the barn door open with his foot with little to no care, the door replicating that same creak he had heard earlier. The vacant space was pitch black, only now the faintest bit of light leaking through from the now opened barn door.

Without an ounce of hesitation, he entered.

His eyes scan across the room meticulously, trailing up the wooden pillars that were lined and spaced incrementally inside the vast space. His eyes shift along the high beams and a smirk takes over his lips as he registers the faint feeling of cursed energy.

Bingo.

"I know you're in here." He said in a sugary sweet voice, his movements slow as he picked up a pebble amongst the dirt and debris that was scattered across the wooden flooring He fiddled with it between his long digits, the pads of his fingers smoothing along the rugged edges.

"If you show yourself now, I promise to play nic-"

Squeeeee

Another creak breaks the silence and not missing a single beat his eyes snap in its direction, charging the stone with cursed energy before throttling it at the source of the sound. The stone zips through the air, cutting through the air at such an intense velocity that upon making an impact with the roof of the barn- the wood relents, breaking under the sheer force, causing a gentle stream of light to now beam through the hole he created.

The barn falls into silence once more.

He sighs, raising an eyebrow. "Dead already?" he wondered out loud, a cocky laugh escaping his throat as he intently eyes the area surrounding the "mark" he's left on the infrastructure, admiring his handy work.

He is completely prepared for what happens next.

A shadowy figure zips through the air, and his eyes catch the glint of metal that reflects in the light as the attacker dives straight toward him holding some form of cursed weapon.

Satoru raises a brow expectantly, his grin remaining on his lips as he merely steps out of the way as the figure collides with the ground below, the sound of wood breaking filling the air for a second time as the blade embeds itself through the floorboards.

His eyes observed the figure cautiously, watching as it slowly rose to its feet, not bothering to fetch the weapon that was now a good foot into the ground. He smiles smugly as the figure slowly steps into the light.

"That would've worked- if it wasn't me" he quipped with a carefree laugh.

"You're just as pompous as I remembered"

It was one of those rare occasions where Satoru finds himself at a loss for words. His features are completely wiped of any smirk or cockiness and his brain all but freezes, cutting off any further taunting remarks that otherwise would have slipped off his tongue effortlessly.

It was you.

He'd be stupid to not recognize that voice from miles and miles away. It was you. Standing right before him, dawning nothing more than a pair of sweats and a tee. You had grown. You had changed. No longer sporting the same hairstyle you did back in your Second year or standing with that little bit of awkwardness that you seemed to carry with you naturally at the time. There was a new sense of confidence that you now carried with you, self-assured.

He found his footing, forcing a smile onto his lips.

"Had to keep things familiar for you, otherwise how would you recognize me?"

You let out a scoff and a wave of nostalgia washed over his senses as he watched your face- which was now fully in view- soften as you gave him a gentle smile.

But as he stared at your face he realized something was bubbling beneath his demeanor.

Anger. Hurt. Betrayal. Confusion.

No longer were there rumors, theories, or flimsy, stupid red strings.

You were alive. You were here.

And you had lied to him.

Insults started to bubble in his throat as his collected demeanor began to wash away.

The things he wanted to spit in your direction. How cowardly you were to run away in the manner that you did. Scream at you for abandoning him. Ask you, demand you, for an explanation for how you could have left him with such ease. How could you do that to him? He was counting on you. He thought you understood each other, ready to shoulder the burden of loneliness and strength together.

How could you let him brace the cold and deafening silence on his own?

"Satoru... it's nice to see you again"

And just like that it all melted away. As if the sound of your voice saying his name had been some Pavlovian experiment, he finds himself wrapping his arms around you and pulling you towards his chest.

Those emotions could be put on hold for now he thought to himself as pure relief washed over his being. He held you with such an intensity that a part of him now wondered if this was a dream that he soon would wake from. And he waited for the moment you would slip away from his arms once more and for him to find himself stirring from the depths of slumber, alone in his bed.

It was then he felt your arms wrap around his torso and his bottom lip began to quiver before he clenched his jaw, biting down on his lip, grinding his teeth into the flesh ever so slightly just to still himself. He battled with himself internally, trying to find his composure, hoping that he would come up with something, anything to say. Just one more cocky remark to allow the mask to slip back on. Anything to just prevent all these suppressed emotions from spilling out messily.

But old habits die hard. And the simple comfort that came from being at your side once more was just far too overwhelming. A tear slips from his eye, as he buries his face into the soft strands of your hair.

Just for a moment... the summit began to feel warmer and the sound of gentle conversation began to float through the air.

---

"Well, I'm assuming you're not here for a quick check-in..."

The soft whistle of a kettle fills the air as you speak, the clattering of ceramics soon follows as you reach for two mugs that had been stored in your cupboard.

Satoru is watching you intently, taking in your every move, holding onto every word you speak.

He can tell you're purposefully avoiding his gaze.

The two of you had stayed in the barn for several minutes, holding onto each other in silence. You had wanted to say something but when the faintest sob left Satoru's lips, you knew better than to say anything more.

As you felt him begin to still and his breathing becoming slightly less ragged, you invited him back into your home, a place that would be more suited for the two of you to chat.

Upon entering, you let out a soft whine, complaining for a moment that your coffee had now gone cold and you would have to make a new one. You sent him a soft smile before offering him a drink as you headed into your kitchen space.

The air was uncomfortably stiff from that point on, several beats of silence filling the air as he felt his discomfort grow. This was incredibly awkward. Of course, it was... as if the circumstances surrounding the two of you were normal in the slightest.

He let your words hang in the air for a moment as he sat silently in thought, his eyes wandering around this place that you called home. He took note of the several knick-knacks that decorated the place, his eyes landed on a guitar that hung on the wall and then a wooden trinket that sat on top of the fireplace that appeared to be home-made and he mused at the thought of you taking up carpentry and music in your free time.

He's broken from his thoughts as he sees you lean down in front of him, gently placing a mug for him on the coffee table, raising your brow expectantly, waiting for some sort of acknowledgment to your words from earlier.

He curtly sent you a nod of gratitude, leaning up from the plush couch he had situated himself on, fingers wrapping around the handle of the mug, bringing it to his lips. He took a sip of the coffee, and the taste of cream and sugar immediately coated his tongue. He felt his heartstrings tug as he realized you still remembered how he liked his coffee.

He fought off a smile, knowing that now wasn't the time for fondness.

He watches as you take a seat on a chair that sits on the opposing side of the coffee table and he sighs before speaking,

"To put it simply, you are needed back at Jujutsu Tech."

"...Why?"

Your response is immediate, without any trace of hesitation. He looks at your expression, your eyebrows slightly furrowed and a frown tugging at the corners of your lips. And for the first time in a long while, a hint of nervousness sparks within his gut.

Convincing you was not going to be as easy as he thought it would have been.

"War is on the horizon... A group of cursed spirits are planning some sort of attack in Shibuya... and I am the main target. Yaga was the one who suggested that we find you. He had a team searching for you over the past decade... since you..." His voice trailed off, and you shifted your gaze away from his. A thick blanket of silence filled the room once again. He takes another sip of coffee, and he notices how his foot begins to tap restlessly.

"...They believe that if you are present, our chances of securing a causality-free victory is more likely" he continues, regaining his composure and dancing around the elephant in the room with such carelessness. "There will be several special-grade curses present, so we are preparing for the absolute worst..." Satoru says as he continues to watch you closely, trying to gauge your reaction. Your eyes were now screwed shut, your free hand, rubbing circles into the temple of your head as if you had a migraine. Your silence was more than unnerving.

"I can't, Satoru."

Your words are curt, you provide no further explanation, no reasoning. He frowns deeply, 'You can't?' What was that supposed to mean? Were you unable to use your cursed technique anymore? That couldn't be true- he could still see and sense the intense amount of cursed energy that radiated from your being. You were more than capable. So what the hell did you mean?

"...I left that lifestyle behind me years ago... you know this"

In his mind, he had pictured you running back into his arms as soon as he saw you. He pictured tears and an apology- A promise that you would never leave again as you held onto him tightly. Promises that you would return to his side without a second thought.

But this hesitation. This unwillingness. He felt so stupid upon being faced with it, his ego took a blow, his heart tearing a little bit as he began to question the foundation of the dynamic he had with you. Wondering if he truly wasn't enough of a reason for you to return to the way things were. But at the same token, he knew you and your stubbornness, the ways you stood your ground when making a decision, and your dedication to commit to them without faltering.

And there it was, in your words, the acknowledgment of your decisions. Confirmation of your actions being given as guilt rooted deeply into each word you spoke and swirling around in your eyes as you still refused to meet his gaze.

"Why did you do it?" he then dares to ask, the tone in Satoru's voice was unreadable, it almost didn't sound like him, the words coming out as a whisper yet carrying such a heavy weight with every syllable that rolled off his tongue.

This conversation was inevitable, you knew this. Even if you were trying to steer away from this topic, you knew that from the moment you saw him enter the veil, it would wound up here in one way or another.

But you didn't want to face this reality, "I don't understand what you're saying" you then say, stupidly letting out such a poorly constructed lie. Your eyes flickered to his face for a mere second and the furrow of his eyebrows told you just how much he didn't like that answer.

"Fuck don't make me say it," he muttered between gritted teeth, "Why did you fake your death? Why did you disappear without a trace?" his voice was slightly raised but still firm and contained. He could feel his grasp on his emotions slipping quickly as his grip on the mug tightened, his foot tapping much faster than it had been originally.

A subtle tinge of pain ached within his being as he finally directly acknowledged your deceit. As if beforehand your actions had been nothing more than meaningless flimsy words, his words spoke the truth into existence, forcing him to face it directly and fully. This was no longer a weight on his mind but a hard-hitting reality that he now had to navigate.

You give him a humorless laugh, a small smile that doesn't even begin to meet your eyes, "Do you really think the higher-ups would allow something like that? For a Special Grade Sorcerer that was tied so closely to you, the beholder of the Six Eyes and Limitless Technique to just step down and walk away?"

"That's not what I mean- " Satoru interjects, his eyes narrowing beneath his blindfold, "How could you? How could you just walk away from it all like everything that happened was nothing to you?". There was a bitterness in his voice that he did not attempt to conceal, his words cutting deep, outright challenging every aspect of your motives.

And you knew right then and there that there was no more running away from this. He deserved an explanation, you knew that. If there was anything you could do right now, it was to give him the truth. You let out a soft sigh, your eyes still refusing to meet his as you set your mug down on the coffee table that separated the two of you. He watches as you lean back into the chair, a distant look in your eyes as you begin to fidget with your fingers.

"It started after I heard about what happened to Amanai from you..." your voice came out as a murmur as you began to speak. A hint of surprise washed over his face before his lips thinned tightly as you brought up the name of the departed girl.

"I remember watching the ways it changed you and Suguru... You began to work tirelessly to surpass everyone around you while Suguru began to look worse for wear." he could see a sadness swirling in your eyes as you recalled those distant memories.

"It pained me to know how much that event shook you both to the core... and I wasn't there for any of it, so how could I comfort you both? Then... Haibara died..." Your voice begins to shake, your eyes seemingly fixed on the wall to your left, your fingers picking at the skin around your nails.

"Then Suguru defected... and that was when you broke."

Those last words hung in the air heavily and he watched as you took a deep breath, through your nose and past your trembling lips. You attempted to gather yourself, doing everything you could to prevent yourself from breaking, wondering how these memories still brought upon so much anguish after a decade.

"So much happened so quickly... and I remember that night... you cried in a way I had never seen you cry before... Another one of our friends gone..." Your voice had lost all its strength by this point, dropping to nothing more than a sorrowful whisper.

"I wondered how many more people would I lose? How many more days until one of us becomes a casualty once more? Would it have been Nanami next? Shoko?... You?" He felt a twinge of hurt as you spoke. A part of him almost felt insulted that you thought he would die, but the better part of him knew you meant no ill will. He wanted to stop you there and reassure you there was no way in hell he would have let anything happen to him, but before he could begin to interject, you continued to speak.

"I started to wonder if it ever came to a point where I would have to choose between the success of some mission or your well-being, could I ever rationalize it in my head? Would I be able to make that choice? ...Would you be able to make that choice?" Your fidgeting grew more restless as the skin around your nail broke, drawing a slight amount of blood.

"...and I hate how this sounds, but we made each other weak, Satoru. The target that was placed on my back for being so close to you was evident, and I thought I could shoulder that. But... seeing you after Suguru left, I realized I would become a weight that would hold you back—an additional variable to worry about. I couldn't stomach the thought of it all."

You sighed for the nth time.

"I knew I was uncertain about my capabilities when it came to making decisions involving you... and I knew I couldn't stay and watch as the people I loved turned into statistics. So I made my bed and laid in it."

A bitter chuckle then leaves your lips, "But I'm not so stupid to think that I have free will in this world. A special-grade sorcerer just out there in the world, their powers not being monitored? As if I would have been allowed that freedom. And I knew if you somehow caught word of my plans... you would try to convince me otherwise. I knew you would find a way to pull me back, and I couldn't let you do that."

"So I left on my own terms... removing myself from the picture in the cleanest way I could..."

The two of you fell into another silence as he took in the last of your words. After all these years, he finally received an explanation for your sudden departure. The picture was now complete, and he knew every detail of what happened. And frankly, he wasn't sure how to take any of it. A part of him felt stumped, wondering how much of the blame he should shoulder despite you not placing any on him. You laid it out pretty clearly that this was a conclusion you reached on your own. But the fact that you felt you couldn't confide in him, hurt deeply.

Then there was the way you spoke about yourself, acting as if you were nothing more than a mere inconvenience in his life - oh, did that spark a rage in him... As if he hadn't thought about you in the highest regard.

His next words seemed to slip past his lips without much thought and were solely fueled by emotion. "So you left me... You made everyone—made me believe that you were gone? You forced me to cope with the hole you left... Taking away the last thing I cared about?" He gritted through his teeth, as hurt and anger coursed through his veins, any sense of composure now far gone.

"A setback? Another variable to worry about? Do you hear the shit you're saying?" Your eyes snapped to his face, finally looking at him, surprise written across your face at the aggression that laced his words as he crassly set his mug down with a hefty thump.

"If there was anyone—anyone I could have depended on, it was you," he spat, hastily tugging his blindfold down his face, letting it hang around his neck.

And for the first time in a decade, you're staring him eye to eye.

Brilliant blues swirled around in angry, hurtful waves as they stared straight through you, analyzing every part of your being to a tee.

"Fucking hell- Of course, I worried about you. Anyone with a working pair of eyes and a brain could see what you meant to me. But I knew you - I knew your strength, I knew the risks that came with being so close to you, I knew they were something that just needed to be taken in stride. Every day, there was a risk. Of course, I knew that."

You watched as he took his bottom lip between his teeth, he was growing restless. You knew there was never going to be a positive reaction to what you had done. He would have to have been insane to see anything good about you pretending to have gotten killed.

But you didn't expect him to break like this.

"But- I had enough faith in you to believe you knew what decisions to make. I had faith that you would trust me just as much as I trusted you; depend on me as I depended on you." His words lose their anger, as sadness now coats them. His voice is fragile, filled with hurt.

"We propelled each other forward. Is that not how it was?"

You didn't know when it started, but tears were now falling from both of you as you fell into silence, staring at each other wordlessly.

Almost 12 years of bottled-up emotions caused him to fall apart before your very eyes. You had felt confident with the decision you made back then, certain that it was the right thing you needed to do for yourself and him. But maybe living with the decision had only been so easy because not once did you have to face the consequences and the effects they left behind.

But there it was, the consequences of your actions, manifested in the form of Satoru Gojo, the face of strength and confidence in the Jujutsu world, shattered. Crumbling to pieces right before your eyes.

And god, it was always so hard to see him hurting so intensely.

Your legs seemed to move on their own as they carried you without a thought, and you found yourself leaving the chair you had been sitting in and taking a seat on the couch next to him.

You leaned your head against his shoulder quietly.

And not missing a beat, he pulls you into him without a second thought, and the two of you are holding each other again, tears slipping from your eyes. Your resolve is crumbling; you can feel it. Knowing that the part of you that rejected Jutujsu sorcery and the life that came with it was beckoning you once again.

It always did. You knew it always did.

As empty as the thought left you, this was something your body was made for. This was your unfair calling and a role that you had no choice but to play along with. You may not have been asked to be given such a powerful technique, but you were. And even though you held the power to save so many, you selfishly decided to turn away so you didn't have to witness the loss of the ones you loved.

"Please" you hear Satoru whisper to you, breaking you out of your thoughts as he holds you firmly against him.

"You can come back. Higher-ups be damned- I won't let them lay a finger on you. I don't care about how long it's been... just come back." he was begging you. A desperation in his broken voice that told you that there was no more pride in him left to spare. This was the bottom of the barrel and what remained of him, was raw, emotional, and shattered.

He didn't know if he had it in himself to leave this place without you at his side. Let you slip between his fingers once more and let you vanish into the background again. Knowing damn well you're smart enough to move your location since you've been found. He finally had you once more, and he wasn't going to take this opportunity for granted.

Your resolve is fading away and you can't help but feel a hint of nostalgia. This is why all these years ago you knew you couldn't face him. Just as you admitted, you were weak to him, uncertain of your abilities to make decisions whenever it came to Satoru.

And right now, you couldn't help but take him in. The tenderness in which he held you, the scent that lingered around him, his heart beating so heavily you could feel it against your chest. There was only one word that floated around your head,

Home.

How long had it been since you felt like this? How long had it been since you felt the touch of anyone? You silently begged yourself to not let the fact you were undeniably touch-starved be any part of the reason why you would relent.

But this wasn't just anyone you were speaking about here. You knew this.

You'd be lying to say that your world didn't become duller after you departed from Satoru's side. The first few months of being away from him were excruciating and you lived in hefty guilt. The routine you once built together was no more. There was no one to push you out of bed in the morning, no one to drag you away from your responsibilities to goof off, no conversations until 4 a.m. in the morning, talking until your brain couldn't form coherent thoughts. No one to hold you through the nights that were just a little too hard to deal with. No one to understand your entire being in the way he did.

You truly and utterly missed him, even after all these years.

You breathe out a deep sigh the last bit of restraint evaporating,

"Okay. Fuck... okay, Satoru. I'll go with you".

You refused to be alone anymore.

Satoru felt his world come to a stop as the words slipped from your lips. His heart came to a halt in his chest as he soon took your face in his hands wordlessly, staring into your eyes.

And the summit grew warm as a fire was lit, and there he saw your smiling face illuminated by the flames.

He was unsure of what fueled his next action- perhaps it was the intensity of all the emotions both you and him had released, maybe it was the high he was riding from the sheer fact that you were officially back in his life once more... or the unspoken love he kept within for the past few years.

It could have been for a million reasons, but none of that mattered as his lips met yours in a gentle, loving, kiss, and his thumbs ran over the expanse of your cheeks.

Your heart flipped within the confines of your ribcage as he kissed you with such attentiveness, all of your sanity far out the window as your eyes fluttered shut and you kissed him back with an equal amount of tenderness.

He parted his lips from yours for a brief moment, "Twelve years I've waited just to do this..." He murmurs before pulling you into another searing kiss, one of his hands moving to the back of your neck before combing his fingers through your hair.

Your mind felt cloudy as he all but confessed the undying love he'd had for you for over a decade. You wanted to tease him, you truly did, but as you felt his fingers playing with your hair, you found yourself melting into his touch, any snarky remarks threatening to spill out, dying in your throat.

He suddenly flips you over, letting you fall onto your back as he hovers above you. A soft squeak squeezes its way past your lips and he lets out a breathy laugh, unable to stop himself from gushing over every little thing you did.

"God you're so ridiculously perfect..." Satoru whispers to you affectionately, his head dipping down to press a kiss to your cheek, loving the way the skin tinted with a rosy red.

"...You always have been," he continues, leaving several kisses pressed against your jaw.

"...My perfect girl" his lips trail along your neck where he gently nips and sucks and you feel lightheaded at his words. Never mind the red and purple marks he was leaving along your flushed skin, the way he praised your entire being, kissing you, touching you with such softness rendered you entirely speechless and helpless in his hands.

Satoru felt himself become overwhelmed with desperation. He just needed to be as close to you as possible, he needed to make up for all the time the two of you spent apart. He needed to remind you of just how deep his love and care ran for you. And he knew no amount of words would express that, so he needed to at least try and show you.

"Bed.. 'Toru, my bed" you breathlessly murmured to him, sensing his neediness as he began to press his body into yours and his lips searched for every bit of exposed skin you had to offer.

He lets out a low hum and pulls away from your neck, pressing one last kiss to a fresh hickey, "Where?" he says, lips continuing to graze your skin as he speaks.

"Down the hall on the right," you replied, your voice nothing more than a whisper and ears burning. In a flash, he's scooping you up in his arms and making hasty steps toward your bedroom as you let out a soft laugh, amused with how easily he picks you up. He nudges the partially opened door with his hip and gently tosses you onto the bed, watching as you bounce in place before he joins you, crawling onto the bed and hovering over you once more and kissing you once again.

It's messy and wet, his tongue darting out to coat your bottom lip before nibbling on the plump flesh and tugging. One of his large hands trails down to the hem of your shirt, and he gently pulls on the material, silently asking you for permission. With no hesitation, you raise your hands above your head giving him the green light he needed as he parts his lips from yours and makes quick work of removing the article, tossing it somewhere in your room.

His eyes trail over your exposed torso, tracing over every single curve, and Christ, you weren't even wearing a bra.

"Fuck you've grown up nicely, hm?" His voice says lowly as his hands run along the curve of your waist before gently cupping your breast, giving it a firm squeeze.

Your face turns a deep red as you bite back a moan from his touches, "Don't say that Satoru! You sound like such a creep-" You hiss through gritted teeth as he continues his onslaught, massaging the flesh in his palm before giving your perked nipple a small pinch.

"Sorry princess..." He says with a snicker, "...It's true though..." he grins at you pressing his lips to yours once more in a quick peck before sitting up to slip off his own shirt and discarding the blindfold that still hung around his neck.

His sculpted body was a sight to behold. It's not like you haven't seen Satoru shirtless before, there have been many incidents during your days at Jujutsu Tech, going to the beach, catching him right after he stepped out of the shower, or waking up next to him in your dorm and receiving a poor excuse from him that it was simply too hot while he was trying to sleep.

But after several years, you can see the effects of what you assumed was nothing less than endless hours of intense training written all across his body with every swell of muscle your eyes traced along, broad shoulders chiseled abs, and a waist so sinfully cinched, anyone would be envious.

When the hell did he become so hot?

Satoru genuinely felt himself grow warm under your gaze, the way you stared at his body so shamelessly made the tips of his ears turn pink. A smirk tugged at his lips as he debated calling you out for practically drooling at the sight of him. But as your small hand reached out and ran your fingers along the expanse of his abdomen, he couldn't hold himself back anymore.

He couldn't tease you now, he didn't have it in him. Not when you were laying there looking so damn pretty, clearly needing him just as much as he needed you. As he began to make quick work of removing your sweatpants, he made a silent vow to himself that next time it wouldn't be so rushed like this, next time he would take his damn sweet time, drawing every second out and showing you everything he could do to you.

Discarding your sweat pants, his eyes practically honed in on the blatant wet patch soaking your cotton panties. "Fucking hell, you're driving me crazy sweetheart..." He growled, removing his pants, and flinging it to who knows where. He positioned himself between your legs, hooking his thumbs underneath the waistband of your underwear pulling it down your legs at an agonizingly slow pace, and marveling at the strings of arousal that hung between your wet cunt and panties.

It was embarrassing how soaked you were, he barely had done anything to you and you were already a mess. Being touch-starved was becoming a prevalent fact and you just silently hoped he wouldn't put 2 and 2 together. Not that any of what you thought mattered because as soon as your panties were completely off, Satoru was diving into your cunt and eating you out with such eagerness you thought you were about to die and go to heaven.

His tongue worked skillfully along your slit, occasionally bringing your clit between his lips and sucking and lapping at the sensitive nub. "Satoru- oh my god-" you stuttered out, your thighs threatening to clamp around his head if not for his large warm palms keeping them spread. He let out a slight hum as you said his name and the vibrations have you seeing stars.  

Were you really about to finish after two minutes of foreplay?

You got your answer fairly quickly as Satoru suddenly removed his mouth from you, denying you any further pleasure. You begin to protest but as he leaves a soft kiss on your inner thigh, your voice dies in your throat. "I'm sorry my pretty girl... Can't wait much longer" he says, his voice low and gravelly as he sits up, tugging down his boxers and positioning himself once more between your legs and caging you between his muscular arms.

"Need you finish while I'm inside that pretty cunt, okay?" he murmurs, licking off the last bit of your slick that lingered on his lips. Your eyes trailed down his torso, admiring the feint white happy trail before fixating right on his dick. He was so big, so lengthy and thick, with an angry red tip that leaked with pre-cum. Your mouth watered slightly-

Of course, he had a huge dick... cause why wouldn't he?

"You ready, sweetheart?" Satoru whispered to you, pulling you from your thoughts as the head of his cock nudged at your entrance which has you gasping. You meet his eyes, seeing the tenderness those deep blues held and you smile, nodding your head softly.

Slowly, he pushes himself into you, watching your face contort as you adjust to his size. "Doing so well, pretty girl... you're taking me so well..." he cooed, leaning down to press soft kisses to your face as you struggled to keep your breathing under control. The stretch was ridiculous, and your hands found purchase on his shoulders, holding on to him tightly as your nails dug into his perfect milky skin.

"Almost there, my perfect girl..." he whispered just before bottoming out. He cursed at how tightly you were gripping him, plush walls sucking him in so intensely he had no idea if he'd ever be able to leave - not that he wanted to, of course.

A breathy sigh of your name left his lips as he gave a testing roll of his hips, gauging your reaction.

And when the prettiest moan leaves your lips, he can't help but gush, his hips beginning to move in slow, measured thrusts and he buries his face in your neck, firmly pressing his body against yours.

He could feel your heart pounding against his chest, every sinful and beautiful noise you made flooded his ears and he groaned softly. Breathless sighs of his name left your lips as the sound of skin smacking against skin filled the air with every thrust he made, fucking himself deeper into your sopping cunt.

He knew he was done for.

You were so perfect. You always were so damn perfect. Everything that he could have ever wanted. He always felt that you were his other half. From the moment you entered his life, he swore you were a splash of color in what he felt was a previously black-and-white world. The way you understood him in ways that he thought no one ever would. The way you always matched him on his childish, snarky remarks and teasing. The way you would put up with him, even on the days he knew he was being difficult.

Life with you meant reassurance and laughter, it meant being seen for something more than this power of his. Life with you meant never having to feel alone, it meant having a constant to push him through the toughest of times. It meant having a space where he could let the mask slip off, a place where he didn't have to be 'The Strongest', but simply Satoru,

Your Satoru.

And fuck, the pain he felt the day you left. The pain he felt for weeks... for months. Having to adjust to a world with you was agony.

But now that you were here, spread before him, your pretty eyes shut and those delicate lashes brushing on your cheeks, lips parted and moaning his name like a mantra- and he knew he could never get enough of you. He would never be able to get enough of you.

Never again was he going to let you get away. You were officially stuck with him until the end of time.

"Ah- 'Toru, m'getting close-!" you cried out, your hands running all along the expanse of his back, nails now breaking the skin and leaving red angry marks in their wake as his thrusts began to increase in pace and becoming sloppy.

"Me too princess, don't hold back, want you to cum for me, make a mess for me like the perfect girl I know you are" he groaned out, words spilling endlessly from his lips as began to nip at your neck once more, leaving far too many marks that made you question if your neck would be entirely purple by the end of this.

But as he hits a spot so deep inside you, your back arcs and your vision fades to white and you come undone. Legs trembling around him and hands scrambling to find something anything to hold onto as your orgasm ripples through you with such an intensity you thought you were going to blackout.

Satoru isn't too far behind as his pace quickens even more, heavy and hard thrusts pounding against your worn-out pussy and overstimulating you right before he pulls out releasing thick and long ropes of cum between your squished torsos.

He lets out a hefty sigh before his body goes limp, and he lets his full weight press into you. You let out a soft laugh, also out of breath as your hands make their way into his hair, toying with his snowy locks.

"…I missed you so damn much" his voice is delicate as he speaks shifting himself so that he can look at your face. You can't stop the smile that stretches across your face as you cup his cheek and press a kiss to his forehead.

"I missed you too… But I'm here now, and I promise you I'm not going anywhere," you whispered back to him. Letting the world slow down for just a moment more as you laid with him, enjoying that this was all life had to be right now.

You were launched right back into the world of jujutsu sorcery. You knew once you left your home and stepped out of that veil with Satoru, a whole load of ugliness was to come your way.

But at least, for right now... just in this moment. You can bask in the fact that you were reunited with the man who had always owned your heart.

☆~~~☆~~~☆

A/N: I FINALLY FINISHED IT YIPPIE I wanted to get this done a while ago but my friends surprised me with a vacation and I haven't been able to write anything until recently haha

I actually do have plans to write 2 blurbs about this fic in order to give more insight to Satoru's and the reader's relationship that I wasn't able to fit into this one less I wanted to overflood this piece with several flashbacks >_>

So expect some little pieces soonnn one will be very fluffy and just a little moment between Satoru and the Reader during their days at Jujutsu Tech after they finished a mission and the other will take place after Suguru defected (SO ANGST AHAHHAH)

Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed reading, it's been years since I've written any fanfiction so bare with me if there were any mistakes LOL

Tags: @hyori2 @kalulakunundrum

☆~~~~☆~~~~☆

[blublublujk]

baby if only you knew

oneshot

word count: 5k

genre: strangers to lovers, hybrid world

pairings: wolf hybrid reader x bunny hybrid jungkook

summary:

“Do you still think that?” “Think what?” The bunny looks confused for a second.  “That I’m the prettiest hybrid.” You say, your heart on your sleeve but it doesn't matter anymore.  “Yes.” He answers with no hesitation. “I like you. A lot. I have for some time.”  “I like you too, Jungkookie.” There’s some comfortable silence for some time as you both stare at each other longingly. “Be my girlfriend pup?”  “Yes bun, a million times yes.” 

warnings: this got a bit fluffy but things speed up once we get past the slow part i swear. explicit sexual content; dirty talk, pet play (IDK they are hybrids so), unprotected sex, since he's a bunny everything is fast okay, knotting, come inflation, slight breeding kink, pussy eating, slick since reader is an omega, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie

a.n: ik yall probably had no faith on me to come back but here i am keeping my promise. october was supposed to be a good month for me but it was so shitty so forgive me but i bring this as an apology. i'll be back on halloween with some ghost hoseok x reader content hehe that was supposed to be released first but i'll keep that for the spirit of halloween. see you then! ^.^

—> m.list

—> welcome me on ao3 & twt

–

Jungkook is an amazing boyfriend. He’s generous, sweet, he cares for the people around him, and most of all he’s understanding and patient with those around him. He’s genuinely a fucking angel sent down to bless the earth. Truly, you were beyond lucky to call him yours. 

In a world of hybrids, it wasn’t so abnormal to see hybrids of different breeds together. When you first met Jungkook, you hadn’t even realized he was of a different mix. There was a story for that but that would come later. 

Jungkook did his best to tuck his huge bunny ears into a beanie/hood or anything that would cover them— which was really the only way to immediately tell he was a bunny hybrid mix, besides the obvious indicator (his nose would twitch cutely). The bunny never spoke about that around you so from the very first day you had laid eyes on him, you assumed he was nothing more than a sweet, strong alpha (solely based on the way he would carry himself) with big beautiful brown doe starry eyes. 

The day soon came where you would find that wasn’t at all true, seeing him outside of college campus grounds. As you stepped inside a local diner to meet with friends, you were drawn to the hybrid instantly, spotting him way too quickly. It was as if you had already imprinted on the man and maybe you had but you weren’t ready to admit that yet. He was stuffing his cheeks with a cheeseburger, chopping it down as if someone would take it directly off his hands. Friends surrounded him, they smiled and patted his back realizing how quickly the younger was eating his meal. The scene brought a smile to your face as you watched one of his Hyung’s wipe the mess around his mouth though it should have grossed you out, it was really endearing.

“Y/N!” Elsie yells from across the diner, ripping your attention from the group of men. 

“Hey kitty!” 

Elsie was a cat hybrid as if it wasn’t already obvious by her beautiful furry ears and long orange tail always giving her away, well that and her long red-painted claws. People always said cats and dogs don’t mix, but you beg to differ. Elsie is the most caring and outgoing kitty you know. 

She throws an arm around your shoulders. “Missed you, pup.” 

“I was only gone for a week.” Fall break was typically the time where your parents would beg  you to come back home even if it was just for a week and of course because you felt it was the least you could do, you booked the first flight out and stayed for the whole break. Even if it was only a week, it felt long regardless because home doesn’t feel like home anymore. However, it was nice spending time with your family, regarding the fact that you nearly booked a flight back two days after you landed. 

“A week too long.” Lira pouts. She’s also a cat hybrid. Sadly, she was missing her tail after an accident she had when she was still a kitten. She didn’t need the tail anyways, her fluffy gray kitty ears stood beautifully on top of her head. 

Lira wraps her arms around what is free, basically all space where Elsie hasn’t occupied, while Elsie’s tail brushes gently behind your back. 

“We missed you.” Elsie sighs against your neck, her sweet cinnamon scent rubbing into your skin. 

“I missed you guys even more.” You feel Lira smile beside you and you know she tries to hold back from dropping her fresh scent into the air, but soon enough peppermint reaches your nose and you are in full delight. It isn’t long before you release your own sweet, calming pheromones. “Seriously, it was so hard to concentrate back home. Don’t get me wrong I love my parents, but it was hell. My sister wouldn’t stop nagging about her brat of a boyfriend all week long. Can’t believe she found a boyfriend before me and she’s only fifteen! What have I done to deserve this?” 

The two hybrids laugh, releasing the tight hold they had little by little. 

“Oh Y/N, if you would just let yourself love and be loved you too would have found a boyfriend so long ago!” Lira simply explains without much other given context. 

“You know she’s right.” Elsie’s tail is now wrapped securely around your hip, the touch is soft but it’s comforting and makes you feel extra snug. “I mean just how long have you been pining for Mr. Can’t-Actually-Say-His-Name-Because-You’ll-Kill-Me.” 

Your eyes follow her gaze right across where Jungkook and his friends are sitting and you feel yourself melt into the seat. 

“Shut up.” You mumble. “I don’t pin after him.”

“Oh, you totally do.” Lira buts in. “‘Oh Jungkook, if you ever need help with that just let me know.’ You seriously believe that we didn’t notice the way you batted your eyes at him while you basically threw yourself at him.” 

“I did NOT bat my eyes at him. And I definitely didn’t THROW myself at him.” You yell-whisper in case any hybrids around are listening in. 

Elsie clicks her tongue. “No, you definitely did.” 

“See, told ya.” Lira digresses, sitting more comfortably against the booth. “Anyways, did you hear about…”

“Jungkook-ah, slow down. That burger isn’t going to run away.” Seokjin affectionately scolds, wiping the area around his mouth with a napkin. “Messy bunny.”

“So hungry.” Jungkook says with a mouth full. 

“Yeah, be grateful Hyung loves you.” The hamster hybrid says with no meaningful threat. 

“Love you!” Jungkook smiles shamelessly at his hyung. 

“Don’t look, but Y/N walked through the door.” Taehyung informs the table as he watches you walk towards your friends. They all burst into laughter watching Jungkook choke on his burger the second he hears your name being yelled. 

“S-She’s here?” He is quick to hide his face behind Seokjin’s broad shoulders but he shoves him back in his seat, happy with his doing when Jungkook’s face turns red.

“Jungkook-ah, my guy, when are you gonna admit you like this pup?” From across him speaks Jimin, his cat ears seem to stand tall, interested in his answer. 

“Hyung, I don’t like her.” Jungkook whines, having no choice but to hide his face behind his hands. “I just think she’s very cool and nice, that’s all.” 

Taehyung raises a brow. “Jungkook you nearly fall to your knees whenever you see her walk in class. Her presence alone leaves you a stuttering mess.” 

“N-No.” The bunny hybrid stutters. “Okay, fine. I like her.” 

Hoseok laughs with his body, grabbing onto Jimin’s shoulder. “Why don’t you just ask the pup out?” 

Jungkook’s face feels hot and he shrugs. “I don’t know… she doesn’t even know my hybrid mix yet.”

“Uh, I think the huge bunny ears give that away.” Yoongi says and points towards his head. 

“Yeah, but I hide them.” Jungkook shamefully admits. He was lucky to be wearing his hood when you came in. Usually the bunny carries his beanie with him everywhere, but today he was out with his friends so he didn’t think it was necessary. 

He’s hoping you didn’t notice. He doesn’t think you would mind that much, but he’s still insecure in the way that he wishes he was something cooler like his Hyung Namjoon. A whole alpha wolf hybrid mix. Why did he have to be born a fucking bunny? He’s embarrassed to admit it. What if you turn him away? Laugh in his face? You surely wouldn't, right? You are the nicest pup he knows. 

“Jungkook-ah…” Hoseok shakes his head, clearly in disapproval.

“I know Hyung. I know. I said I wouldn’t hide anymore, but I can’t help it. She makes me so nervous.” Jungkook lays back, Taehyung's palm goes to rub circles behind his back. “To be fair, I didn’t hide it at first, I was so used to wearing my hoodie in class so people wouldn’t talk to me…” 

—-

Two Months Ago 

“Hey.” 

Jungkook looks up to find a classmate he seems to have never noticed or seen before. He thinks you must be new. 

“I- sorry to bother you. You were the closest person to the door and I was just wondering if you could direct me to room 301. I think I’m in the wrong place.” The stranger (you) pulls her own hood down, revealing the cutest dog ears. He wondered if you were an alpha like his hyung. You nervously play with your strings as you wait for his reply. 

“No it’s okay. Don’t apologize. You’re in the right room. Actually, the room numbers are found on a silver plate by the door, but the plate fell off for this room and nobody seems to have the time to fix it.” The hybrid’s nose twitches cutely as he speaks, his doe-eyes glow in the light filtering the room. 

“Oh, okay. Do you mind if I sit next to you? The room is pretty packed.” You ask quietly, hoping the cute hybrid will agree. Meanwhile, you wonder about his breed. 

“S-Sure. The seat beside me isn’t taken.” He gestures for you to sit. 

“Thanks.” You smile. “You must be a wolf hybrid right? Your eyes give it all away, you’re a cute pup!” 

Jungkook’s heart drops. One because you think he’s cute and he also thinks you’re cute, but two because you think he’s a wolf hybrid. If only you knew what was under his hood. Now, he’s humiliated so he does what anyone foolish enough would do. 

“Y-Yeah.” He agrees and doesn’t say much after that.

“Sorry. Was I too forward?” Maybe he isn’t interested in being friends, you felt so stupid. 

“No!” He answers all too quickly and brings attention to himself. “I mean- no. Thank you. You must be a wolf hybrid yourself.” 

You smile because he noticed your ears of course. “Yes! An omega.” 

So you weren’t an alpha but an omega, Jungkook thinks you became cooler by the second. Even though the classroom is filled with all different kinds of scents. Jungkook thinks he smells a new one. His nose has always been extremely sensitive, but he thinks he smells cotton candy which is new. 

“Oh. I’m an alpha.” He lies, feeling extremely guilty. His hyung won’t mind if he steals his identity for a minute (Namjoon definitely will). 

“Of course you are. Only someone with a jawline and arms like that could be an alpha.” You smile and turn your attention back towards the front of the room where the professor seems to have just arrived. 

“Yeah.” Jungkook lamely replies and fakes a smile. God what did he get himself into? 

…

“She thought I was a wolf hybrid Hyung.” Jungkook tells his embarrassing story and his hyungs look back at him apologetically. 

“That’s still no reason to lie to her Jungkookie.” Hoseok reasons as usual. “I really think you should come clean. She’s a sweet pup. You wouldn’t like it if the situation was reversed.”

Jungkook pouts, nevertheless agreeing. Of course he’ll come clean. You deserve nothing but the truth. He’s just terrified that if he comes clean, about his feelings and the fact that he isn’t a wolf hybrid that you’ll turn him away and never speak to him again. He should have faith in you, but his insecurities get to him anyways. 

“I know I will, let's get out of here before—” Jungkook is interrupted by another person and he freezes in his seat. 

“Jungkook?” To Jungkook’s greatest fear, he finds you right by the table, some friends he always finds you with sit across where you had come from and look over with a proud look on their face. 

“I- yeah! Hi.” Jungkook’s awkward and his hyungs can’t help but to laugh at his mess. 

“Sorry to interrupt.” You apologize, ears flattening in your hair, looking adorable. 

“Don’t worry at all. We were just about done here anyways.” The kitty hybrid at the table reassures, you think his name is Jimin and it is confirmed when someone else speaks up. A bear hybrid this time with a deep voice. “Let’s head back to Jimin’s? I’m tired. Jungkook-ah, we’ll catch up with you later. See ya.”

They all stand and Jungkook feels he can throw up when he sees he’s left all alone with you by his side. 

“Do you wanna-”

“Do-”

Both of you start at the same time and it makes you both laugh. You don’t want to get ahead of yourself but you think it’s possible that he may feel the same way and that makes your heart warm. 

“You go first.” The hybrid says between a smile. 

You take a breath before you ask. “Wanna get out of here?” 

Jungkook nods eagerly, looking like a sweet pup before he’s up on his feet. “Sure, I know just the place.” 

The bunny hybrid doesn’t take you far. After like a fifteen minute walk, a lake comes into your vision and you both find a bench to rest your feet for a moment. 

“How-”

“Did-”

Laughter is shared again and suddenly Jungkook is less nervous. He has nothing to worry about around you. 

“Sorry, I was asking how was your fall break?” Jungkook asks while playing with the strings of his hood. 

“Good good! I went to visit my family back home.” Jungkook smiles hearing this. 

“How was that?” 

“Honestly,” you wrap your arms around yourself feeling a bit cold, “it went really well! We hiked around a lot while I was there. We all really love hiking and it’s the way we bond as wolves. Though this time we had a new member join our pack. My sister got a boyfriend. She’s only fifteen but she had fun as well. I think he’s a brat but she loves him so I can deal with him for now.”

The hybrid nods attentively, eyes sparkling in the moonlight. “I see. I have an older brother and he’s been with some fox hybrid since I can remember. He’s married though and I love her. She’s really great.” 

“How old is he?” 

“My brother is ten years older than me.” Jungkook replies in a low tone. “I’ve always been the baby.” 

Even in his entire friend group, Jungkook’s the youngest. Not that he minds, he just wants to be as cool as his hyungs. Being a bunny hybrid isn’t an easy life when everyone finds him cute. He can be cute, but he wants to be strong, cool (maybe sexy as well). 

“I can tell.” You whisper and his giggle calms the butterflies in your stomach. 

“Look there’s something I wanna show you.” Jungkook lets himself breathe for a moment before his hands come to the top of his hood. “I know this is so unexpected and sudden, but I don’t wanna keep lying to you.” 

He breathes one last time through his nose, closes his eyes for a second and drops his hood, letting his fluffy ears hit the fresh air. When he opens his eyes he finds you just as shocked as he imagined you would be. 

“Jungkook.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry for hiding something like this. I really didn’t mean to. I-”

Jungkook feels arms wrap around him and he freezes before he realizes all his fears and worries have been for nothing. He hugs you back, squishing you into him. 

“I’m sorry for assuming your hybrid mix bun.” He feels the whisper right below his ear. The bunny holds back a purr when he feels you gently scratch behind his ear.

Bun. Jungkook knows this is terrible timing, but fuck he thinks he could come in his pants right now. His friends and family call him that all the time but it’s never meant anything. Maybe it doesn’t mean anything from your lips either but he’s infatuated with you and has been for a couple months now. The bunny hybrid knows now more than ever that he wouldn’t want it any other way. He wants to be with you forever. 

“I’m sorry.” You pull back to look into his eyes and he shushes you with his lips. They are so soft against your own and you feel yourself hold back your own purr. 

The bunny pulls back so suddenly. “I- I’m sorry!” 

You don’t say anything but smile and reel him in by his strings and your lips crash against his much faster. The kiss is still soft but he doesn’t hold back this time. His lips mold with yours like if it was always meant to be this way. You drop one last kiss before pulling away. He tastes like cherry chapstick and you feel like kissing it off all over again but you hold off. 

“This wasn’t supposed to go in this order.” Jungkook laughs quietly, his hands hold your waist but they are soft to the touch. 

“It’s okay. I liked it.” You say, he watches your own eyes sparkle. 

“I should explain myself now.” The hybrid murmurs and you push off him just a bit, but you remain close and allow him space to speak. “Back when we first met, I had my hood on. Usually, I do that because I don’t like people talking to me.” 

You look at him apologetically but he shakes his head and continues, “you were the exception of course. I thought you were the prettiest hybrid ever and I didn’t want to pass you up so I helped you. I didn't expect anything, but then you called me a wolf hybrid and at the time, I was too embarrassed to admit I was a bunny hybrid.” 

“Oh Jungkook, I’m so sorry.” 

“No no! It’s okay. It was my own insecurities holding me back. I’m not scared anymore. I thought if I had told you I was actually a bunny hybrid that you wouldn’t have taken me seriously. Most people just think I’m some cute little bunny and I’m much more than my breed.” He admits and you feel sorry he would ever think something like that. You never imagined it was possible for other hybrids to think that of themselves, but you feel for him regardless. 

“I believe you. I still think you’re cute but I would never turn you away, Jungkook. You have so many things going for yourself, I wish you could see how cool and attractive you look through my own eyes.” 

Jungkook smiles. “You really think so?”

“Of course. You’re perfect Jungkookie.” And this time you both smile. “Do you still think that?”

“Think what?” The bunny looks confused for a second. 

“That I’m the prettiest hybrid.” You say, your heart on your sleeve but it doesn't matter anymore. 

“Yes.” He answers with no hesitation. “I like you. A lot. I have for some time.” 

“I like you too, Jungkookie.” There’s some comfortable silence for some time as you both stare at each other longingly.

“Be my girlfriend pup?” 

“Yes bun, a million times yes.” 

—-

Once again, Jungkook was the absolute best boyfriend ever. Genuinely the kindest soul and sweetest hybrid. But he was a fucking animal. No pun intended. It was your first time dating a bunny hybrid and you underestimated a lot of things. 

First, the bunny was incredibly needy. You had heard of this. Taehyung had warned you and you didn’t even believe it at first because you were quite clingy yourself, but then you realized it was much worse than you had imagined. Jungkook would pout and whine every time you would try to get up from your morning cuddles. He would tell you things like you could skip work or class for today and you would always disagree. 

“No. Not this time bun.” Jungkook whined, he would try his best puppy eyes on you which almost always worked but not this time. So much for not liking being cute. “No. I’ll see you after class okay? We’ll cuddle all you want after.” 

Jungkook huffs but lets you go anyways. He’ll be waiting for that. 

Second, you underestimated how much a growing bunny could eat. He was already in his last stages of maturing, but damn he could eat. You don’t even eat this much after your heats hit and your appetite is huge during those times. 

“Slow down, bun.” Jungkook would blush and smile with his mouth full. 

“Starving.” He would say even though you had fed him just an hour ago but it was cute. It was just so hard to say no to someone as cute as Jungkook. May he forgive you later for thinking he was the cutest bunny you had ever met but it was true. Jungkook was perfect and he was everything you ever wanted in a partner. 

Thirdly, you underestimated his sex drive. At first, you thought you were a match made in heaven. You would spend your heats with a bunny who tended to have a high libido. It would all work out! He could keep up with you and you would take what you needed during your frenzy heated state. It was perfect. 

Okay no, you definitely underestimated a bunny’s sex drive because Jungkook was a fucking beast. Your heats would hit every three months and Jungkook was more than happy to help. He was genuinely perfect. He would make sure you always had water and cold towels around to cool you down. The bunny would often check on you between rounds, during rounds, and especially after you had come down from the frenzy wave of your heats. 

It was one of those moments where you realized he was much more in need of this than you were. Bunny’s are in need of a lot of sex possibly more than any other hybrid. Jungkook would fuck you to oblivion for ten minutes straight and after twenty minutes as you cooled off, he was ready for more. Sex with Jungkook was beyond exhausting, but you wouldn’t change a damn thing. 

“W-Wait Jungkook, oh my god.” The bunny rammed his hips in and out of you at quick speed. His hands forcing your hips up, keeping you right where he wanted. “I’m gonna come again.”

Your voice falls out into whines and whimpers and still, Jungkook doesn’t hold back. He feels the second you start to fall apart writhing against the sheets every time you feel him hit your sweet spot. “Already pup?”

“Nghh.” Nothing stops the high pitched moan that rips through the room while Jungkook fucks into you with precision. “D-Don’t. Please don’t stop. ” 

Jungkook loves it when you get like this. All fucked out. Barely holding yourself together. He sees the way you cling to the sheets below, your slick is everywhere but that’s exactly how the bunny likes it. He’s convinced the neighbors could smell it by the way you keep pushing that sweet slick out. 

The scent of cotton candy hits his nose by a tenfold and he loves it. You’re coming right on his cock and that’s how it always should be, but suddenly he’s greedy. 

The bunny is quick to slip out of you and you want to shove him right back in, but he replaces his cock with his tongue and nothing else matters again. It’s like he’s addicted. Jungkook used to think he hated being a hybrid. Having the ability to smell all sorts of scents used to drive him insane and somehow, nothing is better than smelling your sweet, sweet scent. It drives him fucking insane.

“Fuck!” You scream. The bunny is buried nose deep into your pussy, forcing all your addicting slick to fall into his tongue. He inhales the fucking juices like it’s a meal. “I- I think I’ll come again.” 

Jungkook can’t help but to smile even while he’s in the middle of eating you out. He flicks his tongue around your clit, nibbling on it like the good bunny he is. The sensation starts to build all too quickly and another orgasm rips through your body. The world goes black for a second. 

You passed out and the next time you wake up, you feel the hybrid rubbing his length behind you. 

You both never even bothered getting dressed when your heat would hit. There was no use of clothes anyways. It wouldn’t matter if he would find a way to drop you on his knot every fucking minute he could. 

He presses his hard-on between your cheeks and you feel slick start to ready you up for him. 

“Again?” You croak, voice still filled with fatigue. 

Jungkook kisses your back softly as he caresses your hips (it’s the way he asks for forgiveness). He was a sweet bunny. “Sorry babe. You smell so fucking good. Just like me.” 

“Yeah because you’ve been coming all over me. There’s a bugde in my stomach. You’ve ruined me bun.” The bunny smiles against your skin and apologizes again in between kisses along your bare shoulder. 

His cock makes his way between your cheeks and you feel the tip against your slicken folds (you don’t know if it’s slick or his come). “Just the tip baby.” 

He whispers and you roll your eyes because it’s never just the tip but who are you to deny your sweet boyfriend of absolutely anything. “Go ahead bunny.” 

Jungkook sighs as the head of his dick eases into your pussy. He actually keeps his word and doesn’t go any further. The bunny takes his time, slowly rolling his hips into you. You hear him groan against your ear. “So good for me pup. All mine.” 

The bunny growls as his hand touches the bulge that formed in your stomach. He would keep his come inside you every single day if he could. Fuck everything else. 

The bulge reminds him of what it could be. He can’t wait to see you filled with his own pups. The bunny moans imagining your swollen belly, you would probably taste sweeter than ever. He might just breed you right now. Fuck birth control. 

“Kook.” He hears you moan lightly. “‘S not enough.” 

He smirks knowing his girl. “I know pup. Need my help?” 

You only nod, moaning again when you feel him pick up the pace. He’s still behind you and his hand leaves your stomach to pull your cheeks apart. He thrust himself fully inside you grunting into your ear. “So tight still even after last night.”

You squeeze your walls around him as he picks up his pace again, he tries his best in the position you are both in but he gets frustrated within the second and lifts one of your legs up, fucking his dick into your pussy easier. The bunny moans praises as he continues to ram himself into you. “So pretty. So beautiful. All mine.” 

“Yours. All yours.” You agree, feeling so fucked already. 

Jungkook pulls out for a second before he pushes you back against the bed and tugs your legs open for him. The bunny sits between your legs while he contemplates whether he wants to eat you out or stuff his knot into you.

You notice this and intervene. “No. Fuck me. Please.” 

He supposes he can let you decide for now. Jungkook lines his cock with your pussy and eases himself back inside you. This way he feels much better and he doesn’t struggle hitting your g-spot within the minute. 

“Knot. Need your knot bun.” You start to beg as slick falls out of you, your body clearly preparing you for a knot. 

“Yeah?” Jungkook breathes harshly, his ears twitch watching you fall into a desperate state. “Beg for it, omega.” 

Omega. Jungkook never calls you that unless he knows you are far too deep into it to care. Hybrids do not call each other by their status unless they are a part of that mix themselves, but Jungkook has always pushed his luck. He knows it drives you insane. 

“Please bun. I- wan- knot. Please knot me.” Your words start to go incoherent and he loves every second of it. The hybrid pulls out grabs some slick that has fallen into the sheets and covers his length with it fucking it back into you. His pace is significantly faster now, he plants hands into the sheets below as you wrap your arms and legs around him. He fucks into relentlessly, not worried about the noise being made. The headboard keeps smacking into the wall but he could care less. His neighbors hate him for sure but what does it matter when he has you under him. So desperate and perfect. 

Your moans are almost yells now and he only goes faster. And faster. And then much faster. This is when you really realize who you are with. A whole bunny hybrid. He’s so fast. Much faster than any of your loser ex’s. They don’t even compare for one second to what Jungkook is capable of. He always keeps you full and sated. It is as if he made for you and you for him.  

He feels his knot start to inflate and his nostrils flare, smelling your scent sweeten. Sweat coats his body but he doesn’t let up. “Bun will knot you now, my sweet pup. My omega.” 

Your legs start to shake around him as heat rushes down and you come as soon as you feel his knot ram into your g-spot. You are a complete goner, coming and squirting all over his knot. The bulge inside your stomach is beautiful and it grows bigger as he comes deeply into you, holding his knot and previous orgasms. 

Even though you definitely feel faint, you are proud of yourself for keeping your eyes open as his knot locks you both in place. Jungkook is careful when laying back behind you, feeling the knot tug at you both lightly. 

“You okay?” He asks in a whisper, pushing the hair out of your sweaty face. He kisses your pink cheeks. God he’s so lucky. “I love you. So much.”

“Yes. ‘M perfect bunny. I love you more.” You whisper, and lull back to sleep in the arms of your lover. 

Seriously, you wouldn’t have it any other way. Even if dick could kill you, so be it.

[synthetickitsune]

Vampire!The8 (SVT) | Loss angst | 0.9k | gn!reader warnings: unspecified accident, reader dies A/N: i was too slow to post these through october for spooky season but oh well, the rest of the members coming soon

“Stay still. Shhh. Don’t make it hurt more.” 

His voice is strained with emotions like you’ve never heard before. It’s gentler. Like the last drops of hot shower running down your back. 

His hand is stroking your head. It’s like you’re only resting on the couch, head in Minghao’s lap while he reads and you’re slowly falling asleep. All is done for this day, nothing left to worry about. If you fall asleep, he’ll carry you to bed and go back to reading. When you wake up, you’ll still find him there. You’ll see the glow coming from the living room. A simple evening; evening filled with love and harmony.

You’re dying.

You know it to be true and inevitable.

You can feel life flowing out of you and pooling under your body, blood pushing blood from where it should be contained in your veins and arteries. 

All this blood, your blood, and yet there’s no hunger in the vampire’s eyes. It’s getting harder to look at him, but you won’t deny yourself a second of it.

“Are you okay with this?” you ask without accusing him. You manage to smile, so your condition is not that bad still. He nods, an uncertain expression on his face. He’s not second-guessing himself, he just doesn’t want you to blame him. You know he’d still try his best to fix things if you were angry with him, if you begged him to bite you and turn you into one of his own kind. But Minghao isn’t like that. He wouldn’t. You know you wouldn’t be able to change his mind if you tried - and you never would try. He must be upset enough as it is. And you’ve talked about this extensively, you know where he stands. You understand. And in a way, you’re grateful it’s going to end like this. 

“Are you?” he still checks even if nothing would change if you weren’t. You lean your head against his stomach, feeling the cold of his body against your cheek. Soon you suppose you’ll be just as cold.

“I wanted to have more time with you but it is what it is,” you try and fail to laugh.

“Don’t think about me now,” he frowns, “There’s a whole world for you to see.”

“Scolding me until the end, hm?” you manage a small chuckle that melts into a fond smile seeing him bite his lip. His eyes glaze over. You wonder if he’s rethinking his choice. “Come closer. I don’t think I can lift my arms anymore.”

He moves quickly but carefully so he doesn’t jostle you too much. He kisses you once, the kiss lingering as if it could stop the time.

“I’m here,” he whispers against your lips, “I’m here, don’t worry. You’re safe, you’re not alone.”

You nod. There’s a whole world you won’t get to see. That you could see if he granted you the immortality he himself possesses. But is it a gift or a curse? You don’t think you could handle it. You know Minghao struggles with it too. Above all, he despises his maker for forcing it on him. Your human pride and arrogance yells at you to beg for it. 

Minghao always called you smart. You will follow reason once more.

“What happened?” you inquire instead. There’s a blank space between here and minutes ago. It doesn’t matter, the result will be unchanged, but you feel like you should know. 

“Accident. Something that shouldn’t have happened,” he responds, vaguely, and with more effort than it’s worth. You’ll die anyway.

“You’re taking it worse than I am,” you smile - try to. It’s getting harder. Your body is starting to feel colder. “I’m not going anywhere you can’t follow.”

“You don’t know that,” he whispers and he pulls you closer. You can barely recognize that his skin is cold, much closer to your own body temperature now, but you feel the pressure of his embrace. His forehead rests against yours, his eyes desperately locked on yours. 

“In life you believed in nothing. You will go to nothing,” the quote comes to your mind unprompted. Who said it? “So you need to believe me.”

The vampire doesn’t answer the question, but closes his eyes before the tears can fall. Does it count as a demon crying? You wonder what goes on in his head. Is it memories of your night and days of him sharing ancient books with you, of you introducing modern shows and books to him? Is it longing for a future that won’t come to be?

“I love you, Hao,” you whisper. Your chest feels heavy. You’re glad he’s holding you. Your body feels like a bag of sand. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” his eyes snap open, glassy, and yet as intense as ever. His expression softens right after, voice dropping low. “I will carry your memory with me. I will treasure you until I find you again, my love.”

“I want to hold your hand,” you whisper. You can’t move your arm, you can’t move much at all. He helps you, squeezes your hand hard enough that you feel it through the numbness. 

“I’m right here. I will believe you, yeah?” he kisses your forehead, lips lingering against your skin. It’s unfair that it's harder for him than it is for you.

“Remember the world for me,” you put the last bits of energy into smiling, “Tell me all about it when we meet again.”

[georgescitadel]

George R.R. Martin on the process of creating A Game Of Thrones

You hold in your hands the second volume of A Song of Ice and Fire… but not the second volume as originally intended. Although I wrote the opening of A Game of Thrones back in the summer of 1991, as related in my introduction to the Meisha Merlin edition of that volume, it was not until October of 1993 that I drew up a proposal for my agents to take to publishers. There is no mention of any book titled A Clash of Kings in that proposal. In 1993, I was under the impression that I was writing a trilogy.

Trilogies had been the dominant form in epic fantasy ever since J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings had been broken apart by publishers and released in three volumes. And the story that I wanted to tell divided quite naturally into three parts; much more so, in fact, than The Lord of the Rings, which is actually one fairly seamless narrative, and not a trilogy at all. I planned to title the books A Game of Thrones, A Dance with Dragons, and The Winds of Winter. I knew right from the start that they would all be large books. Huge books, even. But there were to be only three of them, and…and none were to be called A Clash of Kings. Sometimes the author is the last to know.

As I write this, I am halfway through the writing of A Feast for Crows, the fourth volume of my ‘trilogy.’ There is no mention of that title in my 1993 proposal either. These days, when pressed, I confidently assert that A Song of Ice and Fire will ultimately run to six books… but behind my back I know my lady Parris is smiling knowingly and holding up seven fingers. She may be right. Though I may dream of six books, plan for six books, work toward six books, the only thing that truly matters is the story. And the story needs to be as long as the story needs to be.

In Hollywood, the suits will tell you how long that is. A television show has to fit within its allotted time slot, of course, and you cannot beg, borrow, or steal an extra minute, no matter how much the story needs it. Running times are somewhat more flexible for films, though not as much as one might think. For the most part, the studios still want movies to run about two hours, so they look for screenplays of 120 pages or less, and demand cuts in any scripts that come in longer. My own screenplays and teleplays were almost always too long and too expensive in first draft, so in my later drafts, along with addressing the inevitable notes from studio, network, and producers, I was constantly trimming. In the end, I would deliver a shooting script that was the right length and under budget, but it was never a happy process… and I often went away feeling that the earlier drafts were the better ones.

The size of A Song of Ice and Fire was in no small part a reaction to ten years of trimming. I wanted to do something epic in scale, something at once grand and sprawling and complex and subtle, with a cast of thousands, huge battles, mighty castles, gorgeous costume, lavish feast, great rivers, towering mountains, vast fields… all the things I could not do in television. In short. I wanted to make a world. And for that you need a bit of room.

In my original proposal, I estimated that each volume of the trilogy might run as long as 800 pages in manuscript. The novels that I had written during the 70's and 80's, before Hollywood, had generally come in at 400 or 500 pages or thereabouts, so an 800 pages book seemed very lengthy indeed. The three books of the trilogy would be structured around the long, slow seasons of Westeros. A Game of Thrones would be summer’s book, A Dance with Dragons would take us through autumn, and The Winds of Winter… well, the title says it all. Even in the Seven Kingdoms, where a season can last for years, 800 pages ought to give me enough room to reach the end of summer and conclude the part of my tale, I reasoned.

‘Twas a lovely plan of battle… but no plan of battle ever survives contact with the enemy, it has been said. Writers know the truth of that as well as any general, though our wars are fought on blank white sheets of paper and empty computer screens. For the map is not the territory, the blueprint is not the house, the recipe is not the dinner… and the outline is never ever the book.

- George R.R. Martin, A Clash of Kings Limited Edition Introduction (2002)

[nadas-dirthalen]

I Saw Solas's Origin in an Achievement Icon and It Opened My Eyes on 15 Years of Lore

— PART EIGHT: if you haven't read previous parts, do it now! —

[ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ] [ 4 ] [ 5 ] [ 6 ] [ 7 ] [ 9 ] [ 10 ]

Welcome, friends and travellers! I wanted to get some thoughts recorded before Veilguard's release so I could see if I am right about an absolute BOATLOAD of theories I have.

In short: I saw the achievement list when it was released. I have seen the backstory hints for Solas included in said list. AND MY MIND WAS BLOWN.

You have been warned: THIS COLLECTION OF THEORIES INCLUDES SPOILERS FOR EVERY DRAGON AGE GAME AND ALL PROMOTIONAL MATERIAL UP TO AND INCLUDING OCTOBER 18, 2024.

Come sit down with me. Make a nice cup of tea (and hide it from Solas). We've got a lot of unpacking to do.

(no, this photo isn't the spoiler, I just like it.)

The Story of Solas: Him Solas Evanuris, Da'durgen'lin (1/3)

— The Ballad That Played Right Before Our Eyes —

I meant to write this as soon as I got my day started today (perks of being on the border of a sinus infection right before Veilguard). But I thought of something last night, and I had to do some of the Temple of Solasan and Trespasser all over again to confirm it.

I'm glad I did. I'm horrified at what I found.

Let's begin.

Seriously, as ever, go read the other parts before this one. If you need to only read a few, then read 1, 3, 4, 5, and 7 (linked above). All of those matter for context here, you've been forewarned!

This post will exist in three parts. First up, we've got:

The World at the Time of Solas's Manifestation

Da'durgen'lin: Not the First, but Perhaps Mythal's Last

Solasan: The Icy Terror the World Forgot

The Dread Wolf: Inspiring Hope in Friends, and Fear in Enemies

The World at the Time of Solas's Manifestation

I will be as brief as possible here. Remember when I said the other parts were important for context? It's because we're largely skipping the context we've already covered today.

In the briefest of terms:

Titans, unsundered.

Maker's second children, made. Evanuris, jealous. Evanuris, slaying Titans.

Evanuris, already doing all of their lyrium/Titan-atrocities. We'll get to how I know that.

Conditions are perfect for the blight to begin. All Titans, thus far (that we know of), have been wounded consistently. All are ramping up to "fight back." (We'll get to that.)

But the Evanuris are continuing, heedless of what their arrogance will bring.

Enter: Solas Evanuris.

Da'durgen'lin: Not the First, but Perhaps Mythal's Last

More brevity here, but now with added screencaps from when I just played Trespasser this morning (in fact, I just finished the Shattered Library, and am going to go back to Trespasser after this).

We already knew Mythal was mining Titans for people. What I've refreshed my memory on are three things:

We don't know where in the Deep Roads this is (that I know of)

This is not the only place we see lyrium coffins

This is where we see the codex about needing to forget this place: the one I mentioned began the blight yesterday.

Before I go on, I wish to revisit one more codex from this portion of the Deep Roads: Mythal's Lullaby.

Ir sa tel'nal Mythal las ma theneras Ir san'a emma Him solas evanuris Da'durgen'lin Banal malas elgara Bellanaris, bellanaris.

Isatunoll Mythal gives you dreams Lyrium within Becomes Solas evanuris Blight you give to the Titan Forever, forever.

I've discovered new significance in it that I have not been able to fit into these posts as yet: this lullaby is almost perfectly in the Hallelujah cadence. It follows Hallelujah's meter, but the lines are split up as a distraction.

It can be arranged as:

Ir sa tel'nal, Mythal las ma (8) Theneras ir san'a emma (8) Him Solas Evanuris, da'durgen'lin (11) Banal malas elgara (hallelujah, hallelujah) Bellanaris, bellanaris. (hallelujah, hallelujah)

With the use of "you" in the song and the fact that it is called Mythal's lullaby, I am going to posit that she is singing this to Solas. Why?

Cole tells us in Trespasser. "He did not want a body. But she asked him to come. He left a scar when he burned her off his face."

I believe that this is Mythal asking Solas to take physical shape. But... why? Why coax a spirit if he did not want to come into the physical world, outside of his Titan? If she coerced him into a body, only for the horrors of the Blight to follow, why would he look up to her as the lone voice of reason among the Evanuris?

I'm choosing to read Mythal in a good light here. Know that, as I continue to theorize, the worst case scenario is also possible.

Solasan: the Icy Terror the Elvhen Tried to Forget

Last night, after writing part 7, I could not get this codex out of my mind. The moment of the blight's beginning. I am astonished that I have not seen it theorized before (not to say it does not exist, just that it has not been flung far and wide across the fandom—at least not where I can find it).

Let's go back to it.

In the light of the veilfire, the runes seem to shift, coiling and uncoiling like snakes. A thunderous voice shatters the stillness, shouting: "Hail Mythal, adjudicator and savior! She has struck down the pillars of the earth and rendered their demesne unto the People! Praise her name forever!" For a moment, the scent of blood fills the air, and there is a vivid image of green vines growing and enveloping a sphere of fire. The vision grows dark. An aeon seems to pass. Then the runes crackle, as if filled with an angry energy. A new vision appears: elves collapsing caverns, sealing the Deep Roads with stone and magic. Terror, heart-pounding, ice-cold, as the last of the spells is cast. A voice whispers: "What the Evanuris in their greed could unleash would end us all. Let this place be forgotten. Let no one wake its anger. The People must rise before their false gods destroy them all."

I could not help but think again on how Mythal's lullaby directly says, "Blight you give to the Titan." I asked myself, late at night, in despair: could Solas's manifestation TRULY have been the beginning of the blight on Thedas?

Well, we know where to find out, don't we? The Temple of Solasan. I'm not the kind of person to grab 114 shards in a video game (sorry, Bioware), but I did find a mod that let me in over the summer, and I pulled up an old save.

Jogging my memory made me cry.

The top chamber in the temple is where one finds the inscription on Solas. We'll get there, and we'll also get to the outside of the temple, don't worry. For now, I want to focus on the lower level. (Pardon my Inquisition screenshots and their messiness; I told y'all I wasn't going online in any real capacity today, and I meant it. You're getting all homemade footage here.)

There are three rooms down here. One for plants (left), one for fire (right), and one for ice (center).

Huh. Doesn't that sound like...

For a moment, the scent of blood fills the air, and there is a vivid image of green vines growing and enveloping a sphere of fire. The vision grows dark. An aeon seems to pass. Then the runes crackle, as if filled with an angry energy. A new vision appears: elves collapsing caverns, sealing the Deep Roads with stone and magic. Terror, heart-pounding, ice-cold, as the last of the spells is cast.

My heart sank. My stomach twisted into knots. I explored the fire and plant wings again, and found little that I hadn't already explored or looted—only corpses possessed by demons.

But the ice room...

Something flashed within. Something that made my blood run cold (fittingly, I think).

I ventured in. And then I began to cry, for I knew.

Without enemies, not in combat, the floor periodically flashes when you run over certain spots in the room. The whole floor, just for a second, is covered in these.

I'm not one of the fancy fly-cam people, so I spent a lot of time running around until I could hit the Tactical Mode button at the exact right second.

I don't know what this exact sigil means. But I swear that it has blight or bad-bad-not-good-magic implications, and... well, it's red. Red, in a blue room full of ice.

Even with no corpses around this time, no enemies left to fight: I knew, deep in my bones, that this place is what that codex was referring to. Let this place be forgotten.

Let the Titans be forgotten, because of what horrors we have seen.

It makes me read the codices of this temple in a new and horrifying light.

Faintly carved into the stone is a figurebound in chains. Two other figures haveturned their gaze from the central image.The script below the image is ancient,though Solas is able to provide a partialtranslation: Pride in our accomplishments and in our hearts. That same pride became (a word meaning corrupted or altered) within him, he sought to claim (indecipherable), cast from favor and so was bound. Hidden from mortal eyes, death lies within.

"That same pride became (a word meaning corrupted or altered) within him." Now, we have new context on what corrupted or altered might imply.

The same with, "cast from favor and so was bound." The Titan—the Stone—rejected Solas. But why? Was it because of what he was seeking, or because of what Mythal was coercing/asking him to seek? And when he was "bound" — it was by her, right?

But we know what came next. We know that Terror—a Forgotten One, a Titan—fought back, just like Cole says.

"They made bodies from the earth. And the earth was afraid. It fought back. But they made it forget."

The Earth—the Titan—was afraid. It was Terror. It fought back, lighting a room entirely in horrific red circles that gave me a jump-scare (and no doubt doing other terrible blight things). It chased the elves from the Deep Roads, even as they sealed them.

They begged the other elvhen to forget this place. "Hidden from mortal eyes, death lies within."

The blight.

This was terrifying (pun almost intended) for the fleeing elvhen. So much so that they left a parting message by the door to the temple.

An inscription taken at the temple doors in the Forbidden Oasis, followed by a translation. The writing is shaky and uneven, as though the writer labored to complete the task: Emma solas him var din'an. Tel garas solasan. Melana en athim las enaste. Arrogance became our end. Come not to a prideful place. Now let humility grant favor.

Let's re-examine that elven language.

Emma solas him var din'an. Within [Solas or arrogance] becomes our end.

Remember "that same pride became (corrupted or altered) within him?" Does him mean Solas, or does him mean the Forgotten One from whence Solas came?

Regardless, I am beginning to understand the legend, the horror: one last person from one of Mythal's lyrium coffins, and Terror begins to consume Solasan. Elves, fleeing desperately, hands shaking as they carve warnings into the doorway.

The markings are crude and simplistic, but their meaning can be understood: "They did not ask questions and so I was away. I keep my head low and work like the rest. The circle will not hunt this far. At first I regretted the choice, but they all feel the dread at the door. I do not stand out. Only a brother or sister would know these words. If you found your way here as I have, then you are not alone. If you would have allies when this contract ends, then find me." For a moment, the pounding of footsteps can be heard, as if someone is running. Then it fades.

I saw this on my way back to Solasan—I had not seen it before, clearly. I looked, and I wept. I'll admit that.

Because I saw, "the dread at the door," and I knew. The dread locked inside Solasan. The Terror, barred within and forgotten.

And from that Dread? Only one pulled from a lyrium coffin. Mythal's last da'durgen'lin, rushed out of Solasan. I hope that she asked him to take a body to help him escape Terror. I hope that she asked him to take a body to somehow calm Terror, if the Stone truly rejected Solas.

I hope she did not mean for Solas's creation to cause Terror.

Regardless of the motive behind Solas's true and horrific origin, the effect is the same: a parallel to the Inquisitor, Solas's rise to fame and power began when he survived something he should not have.

Dread.

The Dread Wolf: Inspiring Hope in Friends, and Fear in Enemies

If you're like me, you've wondered why these seem to be everywhere. Outside of Dalish camps, sure (even though Fen'Harel is their villain, they still entrust that he'll protect them, uh huh)... but also in the temples and holy places of other Evanuris, not just Mythal. Also out in the middle of the wild.

Now we know. We know because we know the meaning of the Dread Wolf. Wolves, in ancient elvhenan, were warriors, generals, second-in-commands. We can intuit this based on their continued use in Dalish culture with its Arcane Warriors/Knight Enchanters. Solas was one such "wolf" — but he had a quality that no other did.

He had been marked, somehow, by his survival of Dread. I don't know enough today to confirm whether that means Solas is blighted, immune to the blight, or something else entirely, and I only have 1.5 more days until Veilguard launches (and maybe proves all of this wrong). I can only guess at this connection.

Whatever it was, that became his resonance in the culture of Arlathan.

"I was Solas first. Fen'Harel came later... an insult I took as a badge of pride. The Dread Wolf inspired hope in my friends and fear in my enemies... Not unlike "Inquisitor," I suppose."

The insult, presumably, was that he was the one "wolf" for whom it had all gone wrong. Rejected by the Stone; product of a turned Titan fighting back with new blight. But to inspire hope in his friends, and fear in his enemies? We must consider what those friends and enemies would want, and what they would consider hopeful/fear-inducing.

Solas's friends, we know from the agents we see in his rebellion, also want an end to the Blight. His enemies, the other Evanuris, want the blight to cover Thedas.

Therefore: to inspire hope in his friends and fear in his enemies, the Dread Wolf would have to possess some innate anti-blight quality. Therefore, I posit that Solas's title, the Dread Wolf, is meant to refer to how the blight did not kill him when it was unleashed by Terror.

This quality—and the threat that the blight would soon pose to all of Ancient Elvhenan and the entire ancient world—would give way to... well, we all know.

Rebellion.

Stay tuned.

----

Also: I am essentially FULLY OFFLINE to try and avoid game spoilers! As these reviews have just gone live yesterday (10/28), I am not reading my notifications/replies, and am appearing here only to continue posting my theories. I have heard that the embargo has been broken at least once already and I refuse to risk it, so I will respond to messages and notifications once I have played Veilguard for a bit.

(Mutuals, if you need me, you may DM me, as long as you do not mention the reviews in any capacity.)

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Girls

|| Reneé Rapp x platonic!daughter!reader

|| Warnings; reader being a little rude, stressed reader, anxiety mentions, sexuality struggles, brief bully mentions, reader comes out to Reneé, stress/comfort, short drabble

|| Summary; reader's been acting different and Reneé notices, so she takes the time to talk with her.

Requests open!

Started; october 28th

Finished; october 28th

Anon Request; Hiiiii I already have a request but i just got another idea so i guess i am here again but anyways can you make a Reneé x daughter reader where her daughter has been acting strange lately like acting out or getting easily irritated because shes worried about coming out to reneé even though she knows that reneé loves her no matter what and then one night reneé sits with her daughter and they just have a talk and her daughter comes out to her and reneé comforts her and tells her how much she loves her (since you said the emoji thing and i already used one in the last request im just going to keep using the same one just so you know its the same person) 🫶🏼

~~~

School wasn't exactly your favourite place in the world, especially with being the daughter of someone so famous. It made you popular, which was nice. However with popularity came many annoying encounters. Normally you could handle it; but you were just at your limit today. Everyone seemed to be bothering you. You hated when you felt stressed out, the overstimulation always made you overwhelmed and quick to frustration. And by the time your mom finally came to pick you up after school... you were down right miserable.

She would try to have conversations with you from asking you how your day was to if anything interesting happened. When you stayed quiet on her, Reneé grew concerned. "Baby? You okay over there?" Her tone was calm, full of understanding.

You chewed on your inner cheek. You knew this was something you could talk about with her, she herself was lesbian. It just.. always made you so defensive. You didn't feel ready to talk about it," just shut up. God." You breathed, fidgeting with the window buttons. Watching as the glass lowered and then raised and lowered again.

Reneé stiffened and frowned, looking back to the road she kept her hand on the wheel. Maybe the car wasn't the best place to discuss whatever seemed to have clearly upset you. She wondered if you were being bullied, or if classes were getting too stressful for you... her main raced with the different possibilities. Reneé was always worried about you; you were her kid, how could she not? Her anxiety was bad enough as is but if you add you into the mix? You can cross that off as a sleepless night for her. Reneé sighed quietly, she'll try talking about it again when the two of you get home. She wasn't going to lecture you for how you talked to her; recognizing that it was just out of stress.

When you got home, your first move was to go right to your room. Only to stop when your mom called your name." Y/N? Can you come into the living room for a moment?"

With a loud groan, you threw your bag to the stairs and stomped into the living room. Reneé raised an eyebrow, yeah this certainly wasn't like you. She bit her inner cheek in thought, trying to figure out what kind of conversation she was in for before this started.

"Hey, baby. C'mere." She patted the spot next to her and you took a seat, eyes staring into the floor as your hands folded between your knees. Reneé watched how you held yourself and frowned," what's wrong? You know you can talk to me about anything, right?" Her hand went to your knee but you pulled away. Reneé felt her heart clench. You never did that to her. What was bothering you? She was starting to get really worried.

You were quite for a long moment before you finally spoke in a quiet murmur," just... stressed." You admitted, it wasn't entirely a lie after all.

Reneé nodded in understanding," do you want to talk about it?"

"I..." You swallowed, do you tell her? "I've been.. questioning myself. What I like.." You started slowly and Reneé's eyes widened; she knew exactly where this was going and she couldn't help but smile. Her daughter was coming out to her.

"Yeah?" She said carefully, wanting you to know she wouldn't be mad or upset. Reneé made sure her tone portrayed that. When you noticed you relaxed a little.

"I think.. I like girls, mom." You finally met her eyes with tears and she held you close. You didn't fight her this time, just sobbing into her as she brushed her hand along your back.

"Baby, that's more than okay. I'm so proud of you for telling me. Thank you. You know I'll always love you." Reneé murmured, keeping you close as she held you. She wasn't sure how much time had passed before you calmed down; but it didn't matter. She would have held you all night if she had to.

[imsiriuslyreading]

there's this weird little thing that happens when you're in a fandom community like this, I'm learning. occasionally, people make odd assumptions about you, particularly if you're someone who puts your face on your socials (hello its me I'm the silly sod who did that), and no matter what your actions or your words do, its secured in their mind that that's the truth and that's how it is. which is like, fair, obviously. but its like, unnerving? i don't know how else to explain that.

there's also this phenomenon where people get close really quickly, more quickly than in other spaces I've been in, and I'm not sure why that happens. maybe it's because when we're getting to know someone, it's born out of a love and passion for this shared hobby/obsession we have. and I'll be so real, when you meet through fanfiction, there are certain parts of you that are just on display from the get go by the nature of sharing what you read and write. so its pretty hard to hide some of the dark and scary parts of yourself after that's already been out there on display. perhaps that's how people get so close so quickly. as a result, when fallouts happen or there's disagreements, or you start to realise that hey, actually, this person I thought was *this* way actually isn't and I'm not sure I like who they really are. which is natural, obviously, but like when it happens here, it sort of hits harder, because you still share this space and so many people with that person, so it gets so tricky to navigate.

i'm still trying to figure that out, I think. there have been a few occasions over the last few weeks that have made me want to step away from fandom, to take a break and just go back to reading my favourite stories about my favourite werewolf and his punky lil husband on my own. but then I get a message from a fandom friend or a fandom stranger and its so kind and so lovely that I'm reminded that mostly, it's very positive and good-natured here. and every single day I find new writers to frantically inhale all of their works, or artists to obsess over. i see something and it makes me want to take a photo and send it to someone because it reminded me of their fic or a thought they shared on here or tiktok or whatever. or I'll see the people in my group chat come together and help one of our friends when they need it the very most, only for the favour to be returned in a couple of weeks.

for every disappointment I've found, there have been 10 instances of positivity and beauty and I think that's definitely something worth holding on to.

anyway this ramble is just me reminding myself to touch grass occasionally, to remember that people who have miserable things to say about me don't actually know all that much about me at all, and that this fandom has been the key to figuring out parts of myself I would've stayed utterly ignorant to without it. it's also been a complete safe haven to hide away from all of the scary parts of the world right now.

that being said, october as a marauders fan is a fucking horror show, I am on my knees screaming and begging for happy edits, fics and art because some of you are just far too talented at this whole sad boi thing. help.

[shearlin]

Word count: 7001

Four-centric; Possession

Hi :D

This is my honorary entry for this years Whumptober. Real life happened and prevented me from being able to write for the entirety of September and most of October so I was not able to participate this year. But! I was able to write a little something about one of my favourite whumpy tropes: possession!

I hope you enjoy! :D

(As of writing this I unfortunately didn't have a chance to play FS or FSA games, because I am very alone and have not enough friends to play Zelda with. So the portrayal of Colours is derived purely from the LU comic itself as well as fanon work. Fair warning.)

They stepped into the final chamber with swords drawn and on high alert. They were moving in loose circle formation listening for the giggles that haunted them their entire stay here. After all, they didn’t have the opportunity to kill the bastard yet. The chances they would meet that infected wizzrobe there was high.

They had spent long hours in this dungeon, more than any of them expected, being thwarted by living reflections and mirror puzzles for way longer than they should. A purple wizzrobe, who was stalking them and laughing at their misery, seemed to be the one in control, if its constant presence was any indicator. With a wave of its hands, reflections and shadows were coming to life, monsters pouring from dark corners and glass surfaces. It cloud touched a mirror and scrambled the image inside the glass in a nonsensical way, forcing them to find a way to fix them less the chaos would bleed to the normal world.

And they couldn’t catch the darn thing. Not only did it jump from paintings to mirrors, to shadows and back - something Time argued looked more like a poe behaviour than wizzrobe - but if they managed to cut off its escape routes, it would just disappear into thin air. No matter what it was, they were done with it and its dungeon, and wanted out .

After a long while, they finally found the boss room and slowly made their way towards the middle of it, where a mirror with some barely makeable letters carved in the stone frame stood on a raised platform. To say that all of them were reluctant to approach it was a gross understatement. If the theme of the dungeon would hold, they would have to face even stronger twisted reflections of themselves or a plethora of different monsters they had ever faced on their journeys so far. They were not crossing out the possibility of it being a boss rush formed from their own memories brought to life with the wizzrobe magic. Hooray!

Not like they had much choice. The door behind them was locked. There was only one way out: through whatever the mirror would spew at them.

When they came close enough Legend took out his lamp and, while others protected his back, he tried to make out the text around the mirror.

Shattered mind, shattered soul. Shattered mirage of control. For every shard - a puppet string, For every crack - a broken link.

As Legend finished reading, he rose up, putting away his lamp and redrawing his sword.

“I can’t be the only one who’s really unsettled by the phrasing here, right?”

He was met with tense silence as the heroes exchanged nervous looks. Before anyone could say anything though, the unfortunately familiar giggle echoed through the chamber and they all looked around trying to pinpoint it.

Behind them the mirror cracked.

They whipped around seeing the fading grin of a monster, before the glass fogged over, the small crack in the middle shining with bright light.

They scrambled away, positioning themselves at a relatively safe distance with Wild and Twilight already drawing their bows in the back, while Time, Warriors and Sky moved to the front.

The crack spread as they watched, four jagged lines splitting the glass with unnaturally loud sound drowning any other noise out.

The lines reached the frame. The light shone in multicolour.

And nothing happened.

The giggle sounded again somewhere near the ceiling, but with all the echo it was impossible to pin down.

“Don’t let yourself get distracted, keep your positions.” Time called his hands tightening around the Biggoron Sword. “Does anyone see that poe?”

“That wizzrobe is definitely here and that’s all I got.” Wild called from the back, suddenly turning to the right and firing an arrow. It clunked against the stone ceiling and harmlessly dropped down, but it did cause the creature to squawk in surprise and they briefly saw the sparkles it left behind while teleporting.

“It can’t hide well, when it crosses the lights, the air looks disturbed! Make it brighter here!” The champion yelled.

“And how do you propose we do that?” Legend snapped, but before anyone could answer him, Time yelled in pain and dropped to the floor with a loud thud, his sword almost cutting at Sky as he went down.

Twilight yelled in alarm and shoved the enemy away, standing protectively over his mentor, but didn’t raise his bow at the attacker.

Because with his sword still dripping with the blood of their leader and reading himself for the next attack was Four, pale and slightly shaken but standing in battle stance regardless, with fire in his eyes.

Wizzrobe’s laugh drilled itself through their skulls. 

The boss fight has started.

Read the rest on AO3!

[ninadove]

Nina reads Dracula 🦇

October 11th, 2024

I think that none of us were surprised when we were asked to see Mrs. Harker a little before the time of sunset. We have of late come to understand that sunrise and sunset are to her times of peculiar freedom; when her old self can be manifest without any controlling force subduing or restraining her, or inciting her to action.

Oh… Dawn and dusk have become moments of transformation for Mina as well… 🥺

"We are all here together in freedom, for perhaps the last time! I know, dear; I know that you will always be with me to the end." This was to her husband whose hand had, as we could see, tightened upon hers.

Jonmina strikes again… Also a prime example of Mina’s lines resembling something Van Helsing or Dracula would say.

"But death is not all. I cannot believe that to die in such a case, when there is hope before us and a bitter task to be done, is God's will. Therefore, I, on my part, give up here the certainty of eternal rest, and go out into the dark where may be the blackest things that the world or the nether world holds!"

I would, in fact, chase a vampire all the way to Transylvania for her.

"This is what I can give into the hotch-pot." I could not but note the quaint legal phrase which she used in such a place, and with all seriousness.

I LOVE HER I LOVE THEM

"What will each of you give? Your lives I know," she went on quickly, "that is easy for brave men. Your lives are God's, and you can give them back to Him; but what will you give to me?"

Dying is easy young man… Living is harder…

Quincey seemed to understand; he nodded, and her face lit up. "Then I shall tell you plainly what I want, for there must be no doubtful matter in this connection between us now. You must promise me, one and all—even you, my beloved husband—that, should the time come, you will kill me."

"What is that time?" The voice was Quincey's, but it was low and strained.

"When you shall be convinced that I am so changed that it is better that I die that I may live. When I am thus dead in the flesh, then you will, without a moment's delay, drive a stake through me and cut off my head; or do whatever else may be wanting to give me rest!"

Quincey was the first to rise after the pause. He knelt down before her and taking her hand in his said solemnly:—

"I'm only a rough fellow, who hasn't, perhaps, lived as a man should to win such a distinction, but I swear to you by all that I hold sacred and dear that, should the time ever come, I shall not flinch from the duty that you have set us. And I promise you, too, that I shall make all certain, for if I am only doubtful I shall take it that the time has come!"

I also love Quincey… So much… 🥺❤️

Think, dear, that there have been times when brave men have killed their wives and their womenkind, to keep them from falling into the hands of the enemy. Their hands did not falter any the more because those that they loved implored them to slay them. It is men's duty towards those whom they love, in such times of sore trial!

I am once again asking how ANYONE can read this novel and think of Dracula as a sexual liberator

How can I—how could any one—tell of that strange scene, its solemnity, its gloom, its sadness, its horror; and, withal, its sweetness. Even a sceptic, who can see nothing but a travesty of bitter truth in anything holy or emotional, would have been melted to the heart had he seen that little group of loving and devoted friends kneeling round that stricken and sorrowing lady; or heard the tender passion of her husband's voice, as in tones so broken with emotion that often he had to pause, he read the simple and beautiful service from the Burial of the Dead. I—I cannot go on—words—and—v-voice—f-fail m-me!

The themes of love and death in this book ARGH

< Prev 🦇 Next >

[lauralot89]

Quincey Morris is Voting

And So Can You

Author's Note: Before the 2020 election, I wrote the Captain America voting PSA. This is its spiritual successor.

“My dear American friend Quincey Morris.” Dracula leaned in the doorway, smiling so widely that it seemed to split his face in two. “How wonderful to see you on this fine morning in this, the year of your Lord 2024.”

“It’s three in the morning.” Quincey rubbed at his eyes. “You’re lucky I didn’t open fire, the way you were leaning on the doorbell. What in the hell do you want?”

Dracula’s smile twisted into an equally exaggerated scowl. “I thought Southerners were famed for their hospitality.”

“I’m so sorry.” Jonathan could scarcely bring himself to meet Quincey’s eyes. “He demanded I drive him over at once, and when I refused, he started banging pots together.”

“Lord almighty.” Quincey did not move to let either of them in. “Are you four hundred years old or four, Fangs?”

“It has come to my attention,” said Dracula, his tone fractionally colder, “that your US of A is to have an election on the fifth of November. Is this accurate?”

Quincey turned his full attention to Jonathan in lieu of answering. “Couldn’t he have googled this?”

“He wants to make sure you’re voting.”

“What? Why?”

“My good friend Jonathan Harker has a most annoying habit of watching the news,” Dracula cut in. His eyes tracked over Quincey’s body, still filling the doorway, as if calculating some way to dart around him and into the apartment. “He says he wants to be informed of world events, as if such things matter more than enjoying my company.” Here he paused, scoffing, apparently awaiting Quincey’s commiseration. When it did not come, Dracula sighed. “As of late, these programs speak much of this election. I want that discoloured man to lose. He is far too smug.”

“Too smug?” Quincey echoed.

Dracula, it seemed, did not hear his sarcasm. “Only I am allowed to be so self-assured, as I am actually superior. As such, you must vote.”

“You know I’m from Texas, right? I reckon it ain’t turning blue anytime soon, gerrymandered as it is.”

“I have no interest in colours or salamanders. Every vote counts.” Here, Dracula slapped Jonathan’s shoulder, startling the solicitor out of his standing doze. “My friend, tell him of the requirements.”

With a sigh, Jonathan began to read from his phone. “The deadline to register to vote in Texas is October seventh. If you aren’t sure of your registration status, you can go to Vote.org to check.”

“If you are not registered,” Dracula cut in, “then your Texas has no online registration, and you have missed the deadlines in person and by mail. In that unfortunate circumstance, Jonathan will have to hack into the United States and add your registration.”

“That isn’t how anything works,” Jonathan protested.

“I will not take excuses,” Dracula said. “With the world wide web, anything is possible. Especially since I am rich. Now continue, my friend.”

Jonathan rubbed his free hand at his forehead. “Since you won’t be in the country on Election Day, you qualify for an absentee ballot. USA.gov has information about absentee ballots and how to receive them.”

“If you were in the United States but working on Election Day,” Dracula added, “USA.gov lists if early voting is an option in your state, and tells where you can go to find early voting locations in your area.”

“Fascinating.” Quincey rubbed his eyes again. “I already filled out my ballot and mailed it in. Can I go back to bed now? I have guests. If they aren’t still scared shitless from you pushing on the doorbell in the middle of the night, they’re probably drifting off and I don’t want to wake them again when I get back in the bed.”

“May we join?” Dracula asked.

“No,” Quincey said.

“Why not?”

“Because I hate you,” Quincey said. “My condolences on your life with this jackass in it, Harker.”

With that he closed the door and went back to his bed where Arthur, Lucy, and Jack waited, content in the knowledge that he’d both done his part against fascism and also annoyed a vampire. It almost made up for being rudely awakened at three in the morning.

“I dislike that man,” Dracula said, staring at the closed door. “When we speak next, I’m going to say something unpleasant about the Alamo. Texans still cry about that, don’t they?”

“I’m going home.” Jonathan turned, starting off down the apartment complex’s hallway. “And Mina and I have decided that you’re spending the rest of the week sleeping on the couch.”

“The world is so cruel,” Dracula muttered, following after him.

------------------------

Voter Identification Laws by State

How to Update or Change Your Voter Registration

Register and Vote in Your State

Voter Registration Deadlines

Absentee Voting and Voting by Mail

Confirm Voter Registration Status

The Poll Worker Says My Name is Not on the List of Registered Voters

[h3rmess]

WHERE OUR BLUE IS

Written by @h3rmess ✰

Masterlist

S3 : Chapter 5 - Doom's Day ☆☆☆☆☆

༄ ༄ ༄

October 22nd 2018. I was in Megumi's dorm, waiting for him to come back with food. We had ordered ramen from a local restaurant, and Megumi volunteered to go and collect it.

I was sprawled across his bed, scoffing at the text messages I had received from that idiot. He really knew how to get on my nerves. As much as he annoyed me, I wondered when I would be able to see him again. He was my best friend, after all. He would always look out for me when no one else was there to do so. Truly my one and only.

I placed my hands over my face, taking in a deep breath before closing my eyes. We had been training relentlessly for October 31st. All of the students who received recommendations from the sister school exchange event were able to have their evaluation on that day.

Halloween gets particularly dangerous in places like Shibuya and Itaewon in South Korea. These areas are known tourist attractions. So, people from abroad, as well as people from outside of the regions, would typically come here to enjoy the environment, although it was usually anything but pleasing.

As a jujustu sorcerer, I have decided that my motive is to protect the weak or those who can't protect themselves. Due to my prior traumatic experiences, I am set on this goal more than anyone else. I always move to protect those who find themselves in vulnerable situations where they can't defend themselves. Both Yuuji and I are of the same mind : exorcise and support. That's our only goal. We will both avoid killing at all costs, which is what makes our bond so strong. We can confide in each other, both knowing the meaning behind our actions no matter what happens.

Megumi thinks slightly differently to us. Although he is also set on saving the weak, he will not hesitate to kill people if needs be. I have understood where he was coming from, but I did not agree with this way of thinking. Although, something he said on one of our first missions has always stuck with me:

'Who's to say that someone you save won't kill someone in the future?'

His words plagued my mind since that day. If I really had no choice, would I be able to kill someone? And if I couldn't do it, would I be able to live knowing I could have prevented more deaths by not saving that one life?

I was unsure of my standing in the grand scheme of things, how I fit into the works of jujustu society. I was unsure of the role I played in the world. How helpful was I really? If I couldn't kill someone because I had to, could I really be deemed as someone capable of saving lives? Should I really have this role as a sorcerer, where the lives of others were literally the foundation of my career?

The varied feelings confused me massively, my mind taking turns into 'what if's' and 'maybes', each branch of questions endless. I was stuck within a rendezvous, my morality being the central point of it. In some ways, it was immoral to kill no matter who it was, but in other ways, it wasn't right to allow someone who would kill to live. If I have the power to stop it, I should use it accordingly.

"Seiko?" A voice chimed, causing me to sit up abruptly.

Megumi had returned, food in hand as he stood at the doorway, his jaw heavy and his mouth open. He looked as if he wanted to speak. He placed the food on the table nearest to us and walked towards me, taking my hand that was still on my face as he sat on the bed. He removed my hand from my face, observing my visage.

"What's wrong?" He placed my hand on his lap, smoothing it with his soft touch.

I looked away from his gaze before I spoke. "It's nothing, really... I was just thinking about the evaluation."

"Are you stressed about it?"

"It's not that..." I removed my hand from his, sending a panicked look to his face.

I played with my thumbs as I looked down at my lap.

"You have to talk to me, love." His voice was quiet, and his words flustered me nevertheless. "What is this about?"

I inhaled, ready to confess what had been on my mind.

"It's just... something that you said before." I heard a low gasp come from Megumi, his body becoming tense and full of fear as he looked it me. I looked up, my eyes glossy as his lips quivered in terror.

"W-wh... what did I-I say? Did I do something wrong? I-I promise I didn't mean to hurt you! I just.. I can't bear to think that I've made you upset." He spoke frantically, scared that he had done something to harm me.

"Megs! Don't worry, you didn't do anything." I reassured him before continuing. "Do you remember our mission at the detention centre?" I asked him.

"Yes... That was your first mission with us, right?" He made reply.

"Right. When Yuuji went to save that man, you said,'Who's to say that someone you save won't kill someone in the future'." Megumi was stunned by my ability to quote him word for word.

I looked into his eyes.

"Yuuji and I are of the same mind when it comes to our intentions as sorcerers. If anything, I wanted to save that man just as much as he did. It just made me think..." My eyes found their way to the open window by his bed. "If it came down to it and I had to kill someone, I don't think I would be able to do it."

Megumi sighed, taking my hand. "Seiko, don't downplay your abilities because of something like that. What I said may have made you think about things you may not have, which is good. Still, just because your values aren't exactly the same as mine doesn't make you any weaker or less capable than I am. We both have different stories and different paths we took to get to where we are today. And yet, here we are, sitting next to each other and dating. Our differences make us stronger. They can help to empower us and push us to new lengths. So don't ever think for a second that you're weak because we both know that you are much stronger than me and everyone else here. I mean, I'm not the one who's been recommended for special grade, am I?"

My eyes glistened at his speech, filling with water as I began to cry into his arms. I sobbed for a while before composing myself and sitting up, all the while Megumi stroked my hair and whispered reassuring words to me.

"It's hard not knowing my purpose in all of this. I sometimes wonder why I even became a sorcerer. I guess I just have to keep pushing and be resolute in what I believe. I need to make myself comfortable in this maze, and everything else will fall into place gradually." I sniffled, still hugging Megumi.

"That's my girl. You don't need to figure it all out just yet. We're still kids. It'll all come in due time." I hit his arm at his words, causing him to utter a surprised."What?"

"You can't just say that! First 'love' and now..." My words trailed off as he gave me a playful smirk.

"Now what?"

"That's my girl. Seriously?" I laughed a little bit as he smiled softly at me.

"I was just trying to lift your spirits, that's all. It seems to have worked." Megumi felt accomplished seeing the smile that graced my face.

"I love you, Seiko." Megumi spoked quickly, turning his head away from me as he did. My heart skipped a beat, my eyes widened, and my jaw slackened.

Megumi... loves me?

"I- I love you too, Megumi..." I grabbed the sides of his face, pulling him closer to me so that there were only a few inches between our faces.

I stared into his eyes, purely infatuated. I loved him. I loved him so much it hurt. Every second without him was like I had been stabbed one thousand times over. I couldn't bear not being by his side.

Love.

It's so true and serene. Desirable and seductive. It infects your heart like an incurable disease. It haunts you, makes you act in manners you would have never thought possible.

Love.

The most twisted curse of all.

༄ ༄ ༄

-> Megumi's so sweet I'm sobbing

-> I hate angst (it's only ok when I write it 🥰)

-> prepare yourselves... that's all I'm saying

-> TIME FOR INTERLUDES WOOHOO MAKE SOME NOISE !!!!!!

-> see you soon babies, love you!!!!

༄ ༄ ༄

TAGS~

@nyxlai @inlovewithlondonn @sad-darksoul @eternalalmondd @httpstoyosi @vivi-loves-penguins @samutoru @lysaray @maya-maya-56

[jo-harrington]

As Above, So Below - Chapter 6: Revelation

Previous Chapter: Chapter 5 - Via Domus

Summary: More secrets are revealed to you as your reunion with Eddie comes to a close, and in their wake, a covenant is made between the two of you.

Word Count: 18.2k

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, Mentions of Major Character Deaths, Discussion of the Upside Down, Supernatural Encounters, Gore, Body Horror, Angst, Smut, Fluff, Monsterfucking, Slight Pain/Discomfort/Injury due to Monsterfucking (short lived), Unprotected PinV Sex (he's undead it doesn't matter), Oral Sex (M Receiving), Bloodletting, Defiling of Religious Grounds/Paraphernalia, Biblical and Other Literary/Media References. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

Note: On March 27th 1986, Eddie Munson was left to his fate in the Upside Down and a year ago today I began this journey with Hell, the story of how he was left to his fate under Vecna's control. Now here we are, finally able to "see" what he became. The man turned monster finally revealed in his entirety. And all the...trouble that entails for him and his love, the Knight. Thank you to everyone who has read this series so far, who has listened to me rant and rave, who has stuck with me for this long. I love and cherish you. This one--hell, the whole story actually--is for you.

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+.

Enjoy!

“And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.”  - Kiersten White, The Chaos of Stars

November 6, 1983 October 15, 1987

It was dark and, although it wasn’t a place you would choose to rest, there you lay.

It was a welcome rest. All rest was welcome when you hadn’t had any for an eternity.

Countless days and nights you’d spent trying so hard to save him. Save yourself. Where did it get you?

Back into the darkness once again.

Fate was cruel.

And you were lost.

“Sweetheart?”

You could hear his voice faintly, and tears involuntarily escaped the corners of your eyes; he never called you sweetheart anymore.

"Angel, come on," he cooed softly, closer now, and closer still the longer it took. "Time to make the donuts, open your eyes for me. Please."

You took a rattling breath and you trembled all the while, as the fear that your mind, or maybe even this place, might be playing tricks on you became overwhelming.

Hands grabbed for you reverently--hands, not claws--and pulled you over and up, til you were sitting, and then a solid form slid behind you. The gentle soul let you rest back against them, and then caressed you.

You whimpered as those hands and fingers paid special attention to the most wounded parts of you, as they willed some kind of healing, and made you whole again.

You felt it slowly fill you. The light. So soft and pure.

It was something that you'd long since resigned to losing someday, your light, but here it was again. Not yours but made to be yours, because he was yours. Just like you were his. The light, given freely, returned all of the pieces of you that were missing, bit by bit.

The piece that had vanished from your sternum, the gaping hole that was taken from your side, the jagged incisions at every joint. They were filled and sealed and suddenly you were like new again.

Your eyes shot open, and you released a startled gasp as your lungs were allowed a full breath for the first time in ages.

And just like an infant experiencing the overwhelming majesty of the world for the first time, you sobbed.

"Shhhh," Eddie whispered into your ear. His nose and lips gently brushed the shell of it, and he left a kiss there when you finally relaxed against him. "I've got you. It's alright, it's gonna be ok. I’m here. I've got you."

November 6, 1983

“…and there’s this ice cream cake called Viennetta.”

“Sounds fancy.”

“It is! It’s…vanilla and chocolate and the ice cream does this swirl thing.” You waved your hands for dramatic effect. “It’s delicious. Nonna got to try it before she passed. Said it was better than tiramisu.”

“Fuck, I miss ice cream.” Eddie groaned and tilted his head back.

It wasn’t said in a bitter way, more for dramatic effect.

You'd been shut away in the secret little house in the Upside Down for a few days now; making love, talking, and eating the little snacks that Wayne had brought Eddie previously. When he’d gone to bring you more sustenance from the kitchen after that first night of sex and reconnection, you’d asked him if he could eat normal food. He explained that he had never thought to try. All he craved was blood. But it was the idea of food that he missed more than anything. The variety. The choice.

You'd squirrel that thought away for later.

For now, the two of you lavished in the comfort of each other and you regaled Eddie with the less-adventurous aspects of your life--and he his--that you'd both missed out on.

Topics jumped back and forth between lazy kisses and frantic fucking, sometimes even right in between, interrupting your most intimate moments. It felt reminiscent of those early days together, where you couldn't get enough of each other and couldn't get enough of talking to one another.

Especially when it came to the things in life that passed him by while he was stuck in this infernal dimension.

People and events.

"This...nuclear reactor almost exploded."

"What the fuck? Like Ten Mile Island?"

"Worse."

"How much worse?"

"Like the Vatican almost wanted to send the Knights in to investigate."

"Damn."

Food and music.

"Van Halen is back together."

"Oh shit, they are?"

"Yeah."

"Soon as I'm out of here, I'm challenging Eddie Van Halen to a guitar duel."

"They have a new lead singer though. I think you'd hate them less now to be honest."

"Fuck David Lee Roth. Remember when I got you to admit you had a crush on him?"

"I was coerced. It was said under duress."

"If I had your phone number when I found out that they had broken up, I would have called you and laughed right in your fucking face, sweetheart."

Television and movies.

"There's a new James Bond movie coming out," you broke a heated kiss and pushed yourself to sit upright on Eddie's hips, groaning at the change in angle as you sunk further down onto his cock. He stretched his neck and then grabbed at your hands to kiss your knuckles as you took the lead in both the pace and the conversation. "And a new James Bond."

"No more...what's-his-face?" he asked, panting. "Roger Moore."

"No, Timothy Dalton," you said, looking at his face expectantly for some type of reaction. You rolled your hips into his roughly, almost as punishment, when you got no response other than pleasure. "You remember, the guy from Flash Gordon? You made me watch that movie a hundred times. Prince Barin? What about Jane Eyre?"

He stilled beneath you, brow furrowed in concentration.

"You made me watch that one a hundred times."

"No, there were just a hundred episodes. Remember I said you would make a good Rochester? And you said it was because you were..."

Eddie grabbed your hips and canted up into you, a feral grin on his lips now, fangs glinting in the low light.

"Because I'm handsome and mysterious," he recalled. "And a desirable bachelor."

"And I said no," you collapsed back against him again, lips brushing against his. "It was because your name is Edward."

You reconnected for a bruising kiss before he got the upper hand once again and got you beneath him.

It didn't matter what or when, every moment and every word was of the utmost importance; the actions that they were preceded or punctuated by simply added to the depth of your reunion.

In those private little moments, between silly banter and declarations of your devotion to one another, you promised never to be apart again.

"Once we get you out of here," you said, words hushed against his cold skin. "We can go to concerts and see movies, drive anywhere you want. Get the hell out of Hawkins and never look back."

"Once I get out of here," he parroted as he broke away from his intense feeding. "We'll go everywhere and do everything. Start a new band together or just find a place with a nice couch to sit and never leave. I never want to let you go."

"All I want," you and Eddie echoed to one another over and over, "is to be with you forever."

It took three days before the two of you emerged from the peaceful solitude of Eddie's childhood home.

The watch on your wrist beeped at some supposed midnight every night signaling the end of another day, and Wayne's visit was soon upon you. You figured, instead of just asking for Wayne to fetch your bag, you'd just return to Hawkins with him and get it yourself. Maybe some books you'd abandoned in the trunk of your car too.

Then you could really get to work remedying this whole situation, and getting Eddie home.

Eddie was loath to let you go, though; he watched as you got dressed in your ripped and stained clothes, arms crossed behind his head comfortably while enticing temptations leached from his lips.

"I can just go," he offered. "Wayne'll have fresh food for you and then you don't need to leave until three days after that. How does that sound? Stay with me just a little longer."

"Eddie," you groaned. "I've already been gone long enough. As nice as that sounds, I'm sure your friends--hell, my friend--is wondering where I've disappeared to. They've found my car by now too."

"I can send Chrissy or Fred to tell them you're ok."

"That'll go over well," you rolled your eyes.

You shrugged your jacket on and in a blink, he was standing before you, still naked, eyes wide.

"Jesus," you jumped, startled.

"Guess again," he teased tensely.

"You're...fast," you squinted your eyes at him, motioning between him and the mattress.

"I have a few tricks that I take advantage of when I'm in the mood for them. Some things Vecna showed me; y'ain't seen nothing yet sweetheart."

You hummed a noncommittal response and just stared at him, let your eyes rove over his form once again, taking in as much detail as you could before you left him.

"Pretty sure I'm seeing a lot of you, actually," you told him, voice laden with appreciation for the sight before you.

You reached out and ran a finger over one of the seams along his skin, around his wrist; so much time over the past few days had been spent reacquainting yourselves, and you wondered if you spontaneously lost your sight, would you recognize him by touch alone?

So much time had been spent with the phantom presence of him around over the years, though, that it really didn't matter either way; your soul would sing simply by having him nearby.

"Alright," you sighed lamentingly. "Put some clothes on Romeo. Time for me to go back to Verona."

Another blink and he was on you. His hands cupped your face, fingers splayed across your cheeks and jaw, edging the exposed bite wounds.

"Promise me," he muttered and leaned closer so your noses brushed and breaths mingled. "Promise me you'll be back."

"I promise," you agreed.

"Tomorrow."

"Yes."

"When the watch beeps at midnight again, I need you back here," he pleaded. He pressed the lightest kiss to your lips. "Please don't leave me here."

"I won't," you said with finality, as you looked into his eyes with the fire of promise and determination. "Nothing could keep me away."

Satisfied, he moved in a blur, and then stood before you again, fully dressed in a new pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He shrugged his jacket back on and then gestured for you to take the lead.

The walk back into the Upside Down's version of Hawkins seemed quicker this time. Probably because the two of you actually talked, a continuation of the conversations you'd started over the past few days.

Eddie was more eager to show you the sights around Hawkins again, less fond memories and more "could have beens" that turned into "will be one days."

"Some days."

It filled you with hope.

You were also much more comfortable with the creatures that roamed around. The bats overhead and a herd of demogorgons that ran alongside you at one point; they largely ignored you and so you ignored them too.

A curious little demodog approached you though; well, it approached Eddie, jumping and whining to get his attention. He let go of your hand and knelt down to give it a few pets, and then even took your hand so it could sniff and receive a pet from you on its slimy head, which it eagerly accepted. The creature was much friendlier than the demodogs you'd encountered previously, and you wondered if it was Eddie's influence that affected it, much like Dustin and his pal Dart.

You weren't nearly as hesitant as you had been with the bats; you trusted Eddie, which meant you had to trust them too. And he was just as gentle with the demodog as he had been with any of the cats or critters around Forest Hills, like Lucy and her kittens.

"Cerberus," he grinned proudly as he introduced his friend. "Not the first of his name, unfortunately, but a loyal friend nonetheless."

Once Cerberus was on his way, you both continued.

"Wish there was a faster way to get around here," you commented about halfway through the journey, feet starting to ache in your sneakers. "Do any of these cars work?"

"I, uh, never tried them," he admitted. The corner of his mouth twitched as he fought a smile. "I honestly get around quick enough."

"Uh huh," you rolled your eyes. "Mr. Speedster here. Who runs faster, you or The Flash?"

"I'm more partial to the Reverse Flash, actually," he reminded you.

"Nerd."

Before long, you arrived at the dry waste that was this world's Lover's Lake and stared at the glowing, smoking fissure that originated at the center and ran towards the center of town.

"Where'd all the water go?" you wondered aloud.

"I dunno, the lake was dry when Nancy and the Wonder Twins and I crossed over way back when," Eddie sighed. He got that sly look on his face again. "I could try to open the gate a little wider. See if I can drain the real Lover's Lake?"

"Don't you dare," you backhanded him across the arm, but he pulled you into his embrace.

"Just say the word and I'll do it."

"No!"

"I'll give you anything you want."

"Stop."

"What is it you want, Mary?" he quoted, taking on Jimmy Stewart's vocal cadence. "What do you want? How about the moon? Just say the word and I'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down."

"I hate you."

"You love me," he grinned proudly and then kissed you again.

It felt like a kiss of finality, a goodbye kiss, like the one you shared when you left Hawkins; it was bittersweet and left a painful ache in your chest, even though you knew you'd be back in a day. Eddie must have felt the same though, because when you pulled away and looked into his eyes, you found they were wet with tears, just like they had been then too. He blinked and one lone tear--made of thick blood instead of water--rolled down his cheek. You reached up to wipe it away, and he grasped your wrist so he could kiss the droplet.

"And I love you," he whispered against the pad of your thumb. "Love you so much I'd give you the moon."

"I'll take it."

"Well look at that," a groan of a familiar voice interrupted the sweet moment, and you both turned to find Wayne pulling himself through the gate at the shore of the lake. You quickly rushed forward to help him to his feet, as he stumbled and wheezed and coughed. "Fancy seeing you here honey. Guess the cat's out of the bag."

"No thanks to you," you ribbed him good-naturedly.

"You figured it out on your own, otherwise you wouldn't be here," he teased and then looked past you to Eddie. "Good to see you kid."

"Hey Wayne," he greeted his uncle.

"Looking more like yourself," Wayne nodded appreciatively.

"Feeling more like myself."

"Hmmm," Wayne clapped a hand on your shoulder and then winked at you. "Wonder why. Makes me feel almost silly that I'd had the brilliant idea to bring some of Rick's old tapes over today."

"C'mon, you know I'll take whatever music I can get my hands on. Everything here is pretty much covered in gunk anyway."

You watched their interaction fondly as they bickered back and forth like they always had. Eddie clapped a hand on Wayne’s shoulder and made him laugh, and Wayne cupped the side of Eddie’s head affectionately, the closest they would get to a hug for now.

Eventually, Wayne hefted the backpack from his shoulder and unpacked all sorts of items for Eddie: clothes, food--more of Eddie's favorites--tapes, and a new book.

Suddenly what he said back at Rick's the other day made a lot more sense.

"Shit, what's a guitar gonna do, or snacks, or...or a t-shirt? When he's stuck in Hell?"

He hadn't been talking about what he'd done when Eddie was wanted for murder and was then believed to be dead; he was talking about this right here. A futile effort to bring Eddie comfort while he was stuck in the Upside Down.

That sinking feeling that you had felt when he'd said that to you was back, worse now knowing that it wasn't just grief he'd experienced, but the constant reminder of his failure to run with Eddie while he could.

You found yourself even more determined to fix this; not just for Eddie, or for you. But for Wayne too.

October 16, 1987

It had taken a little time.

A little elbow grease, a little prayer, a lot of Wayne's mechanical knowledge and jumper cables, but before long you were back in the driver's seat of the Marquis, headed for the Harringtons.

Driving through town had a different weight to it now. There was no insidious evil lurking beyond sight and understanding, it was just Eddie.

Yes, there were still many obstacles to face before things were made right again. But it wouldn't be such an impossible, herculean task anymore to fix things, would it?

But people still died. There were still dark creatures roaming about. Eddie was stuck in the Upside Down and had still resurrected any number of people, which was a big deal in and of itself.

And you were still burdened by your family's curse.

"Right," you muttered to yourself. "All of that. Fuck."

What you wouldn't give to return to the bliss of Eddie's arms right now instead of face that ever-growing list.

"One thing at a time." You nodded and tried to keep your eyes on the prize. "First let everyone know you're alive, then figure out how to get Eddie out of there. The rest will follow."

If only things could be that easy.

You almost--and quite literally--ran into Steve's maroon BMW at some point on your drive. Tires screeched, curses shouted, and then you followed the gang back home. Dustin and Robin bickered in the back seat of Steve's car and you watched their animated expressions, arms flailing as they did. It warmed your heart, made you realize how much you had come to care for them and miss them, even in a few short days.

You beamed brightly as one specific scathing remark from Dustin made Steve turn around in the driver's seat to give a warning glare.

By the time you parked behind Steve at the Harrington's, Dustin had bolted out of the car to greet you and, in a full 180 from his behavior in the car, essentially tackled you in a hug.

"You made it back," he sounded relieved, "We were getting worried."

"First off," you scoffed and flicked the bill of his hat. "I wouldn't expect any less, you little worry wort, especially after three whole days. And second, mister, you have some explaining to do."

“Three day—wait,” he stumbled over his words. “Me? I have some explaining to do? Why? What’d I do?”

He twitched and shifted nervously, then his eyes roamed over you, really taking in the beaten, bruised, and bitten nature of your appearance. His eyes widened and he opened his mouth to say something when a car door slammed heavily and another voice chimed into the conversation.

“Actually, I think it’s you that owes us an explanation,” Nancy announced, arms quick to cross over her chest. You could feel the ire come off her in waves. “Did you think Claudia was gonna keep Billy a secret from everyone else just because you decided to stay with Wayne Munson instead of here?”

Maybe it was the reunion with Eddie that made you more patient. Forgiving. You already gave Nancy the grace that she, understandably, didn't seem to have for anyone else outside of her inner circle, and you thought, once again, about how much the two of you were more alike than different.

Maybe in a different world, you might have been friends.

Instead here, she very much felt the need to be your enemy.

Because the entire world was her enemy thanks to the shitty hand it dealt her.

You could be whatever she needed you to be until she saw that you were not against her, the way she believed you were.

"It's good to see you too Nancy," you deadpanned. "I didn't think it was going to hide the truth from everyone if I left."

"So you just wanted to leave the others to the consequences of your decisions rather than face them yourself," she accused.

"No I thought it would be easier if you all didn't see my face every day, especially with how royally I was fucking everything up," you told her. "See? I can admit when I fuck things up. This isn't the first time. It happens a lot actually."

Her face crumpled in a scowl.

"I know it isn't a surprise," you continued. "Because you seem to think I'm the one who continues to bring misfortune to Hawkins but we both know that it's been here regardless of my presence or not. Just like Kas would still be around whether or not I was. Isn't that right?

"Or should I say Eddie would still be around?"

Steve, Robin, and Dustin stared at you with wide eyes, but Nancy smirked and threw her hands out with a sarcastic laugh.

"Thank God, now we don't have to keep that secret anymore."

"I don't know why you thought it would be ok to keep it a secret in the first place," you shook your head. "As if I wasn't going to find out at some point."

"It was me," Dustin insisted, stepping between you and Nancy with his hands out to placate you both, as though you were about to lunge for her or something. Or maybe Nancy was going to lunge for you.

Whatever foresight he had, it was unnecessary.

As was the ashamed look on his face.

"I didn't want you to know what he's become," he explained. His voice was low and he refused to meet your gaze. "I didn't want you to know--"

"He didn't want you to know Eddie's an evil monster," Nancy chimed in. Steve and Robin both shouted her name in shock. "Am I wrong? Look at everything he's done? Done to Hawkins? Done to us."

"He helped us!" Dustin argued. "Helped us defeat Vecna."

"And look how many people died Dustin! How many people he killed?He's a monster! Don't tell me you'd rather have him back. Don't tell me you never thought that he should have just stayed dead in the Upside Down, instead coming back to kill everyone we love."

"Hey!" You shouted at her now. You stomped your foot, hard, against the concrete driveway and drove enough of your power into the ground to cause it to shake. The reverberations threw Nancy off-balance for a moment, and she fell against the car for support. "That's enough! Don't be an asshole!"

"Yeah," Dustin nodded his agreement with a glance back at you, before he turned back to Nancy to restart his own onslaught.

"You either," you pushed his shoulder to get him to stop. "Fuck, we're not gonna fix this if we're too busy arguing with one another."

"Fix this?" Nancy scoffed. "You think you can fix this? Fix Hawkins? What's next? Can you time travel? Go back to 1955? Kill Henry before he can become Vecna? What else? Can you bring back the dead?"

"I can, actually," you said, a shocked silence falling over the driveway. "Maybe not in the way you think. Maybe not everyone. But Eddie brought the dead back, didn't he? Brought Max back. Eleven did too. So is it really a stretch to believe I might be able to.

"I can't bring back all of your loved ones, but maybe I can help fix this. Put this town right. Close those gates for good. Help you get closure. Move on with your lives, instead of being under this constant...shitstorm of death and destruction."

Nancy recovered from her shock and took a few calming breaths.

"And what does that all entail?" she asked. "You gonna bring Eddie back to this world too? Fix him? Does he get a clean slate? A fresh start? In spite of everything?"

"Not in spite of it," you told her. "Because of it. Everyone gets a fresh start. A second chance."

"Forgive me if I find that a little too good to be true."

She turned on her heel and stormed into the house with Robin hot on her heels.

You let out a relieved breath and relaxed your posture.

"I'm running out of these motivational speeches," you said aloud.

"You're really good at them," Steve offered as he joined you and Dustin. "Better than I am."

"I usually just tell people to run and they listen."

"You're really good at that too," Dustin added. You put your hand on his shoulder and squeezed it.

"You could have just told me about Eddie," you said to him gently. "Honestly, I think it probably would have worked out a lot better if you did."

"I didn't...I didn't want to hurt you," he sighed.

"First of all," you let out a self-deprecating laugh. "Clearly I needed help figuring it out. And second, I hurt myself more by trying to fight an invisible enemy than if I just knew he was Kas. I could have started fixing it from the get."

"Can you fix him?" he asked hopefully. "Get him out of the Upside Down?"

"I can try." You jumped at the sound of Eddie's watch beeping on your wrist. You looked down at it and frowned; the display read midnight...but it was the middle of the afternoon. Weird. You pressed the button to silence the alarm. "I just need to get back."

"You, uh," Steve pointed at his neck. "You've gotta fix yourself first. Need a little first aid there bud?" You had half a mind to flip him off.

"Yeah, Jesus," Dustin reached up and pulled at the collar of your jacket to reveal your bite wounds; he blanched at the sight of them. "Did...did Eddie do that?"

"Uh," you nudged his hand away. "No comment. But yes, uh, maybe some first aid. And some dinner. Then I can head back to Wayne's for a good night's sleep. But uh...a good shower and some disinfectant cream would be great."

The three of you headed inside.

"We just set up a makeshift infirmary yesterday, actually. Pretty well-stocked and everything," Dustin announced matter-of-factly.

"Oh yeah? What for?" Both boys stopped in their tracks and you felt the guilt oozing from them. You shot them with what you were sure was a withering stare. "What's the infirmary for, guys?"

"What do you mean you got struck by lightning?"

"I got struck by lightning," Mary Victoria shrugged from her place in bed.

She was propped by many pillows, had a stack of comic books beside her--courtesy of Dustin--and was scribbling in a fuzzy purple diary when you walked into the room the two of you had been staying in. She looked relieved to see you for a literal second until she saw the worried look on your face, and then immediately devolved into making excuses and saying she looked worse than she felt.

But truly, she did look terrible.

Her neck and the visible part of her right arm were bandaged up, eyes concerningly bloodshot, and the ends of her hair singed.

You offered to heal her one moment--and she denied you, claiming she'd have a cool scar to show off and guilt people with--and then demanded the story the next.

The story, unfortunately, seemed unbelievable.

"I pissed God off, and he smited me," was her explanation. Simple as that.

Great.

"That's not a thing," you scoffed.

"Are you sure about that?" Mare narrowed her eyes at you in suspicion.

"Alright, it sort of is, but," you sighed. "It's not God. It's usually some...I don't know...other being of higher power. Angels...Jesus Mare, you're a nun. Sodom and Gomorrah. You should know this."

"I never claimed to be a good nun," she shrugged then winced. "You know this."

You reached across to take her hand and you willed a sense of soothing from your body into hers; not enough to heal her wounds, but to give her some relief.

"So...an angel smited me then," she shrugged again, easily this time.

You snorted for a second thinking of Gabriel, bored of watching your eternal struggle and smiting Mary Victoria for fun just to spice things up a little bit. He didn't have that much of a sense of humor though.

“I’m gonna bank on it being coincidental; what did you even do to incur some holy wrath?”

“Called Him an asshole.”

“You’re fine. I do that all the time.”

“You’re also doomed to Hell. So I don’t think smiting is gonna do much to change you.”

She closed her eyes and leant back against the pillows.

"There's something else," she announced.

"Ok..."

“I know I’m already here and it’s already too late, but what if I don’t want to be a Knight?”

“Then you don’t have to be,” you told her immediately with a gentle smile.

She popped one eye open and then frowned.

“Seriously?” She asked incredulously. “Just like that?”

“I mean, you didn't take an oath or anything, and yeah you're here. It's not like I can send you home so we need to see this through but," you tilted your head back and forth. "You're allowed to choose. Everyone is allowed to choose what it is they want. All of the Knights made a choice, even me."

"But I think this is why I got struck by lightning. Because I changed my mind. I chose to come with you, I left everything behind, and I still chose to change my mind."

You opened your mouth to speak, to refute her belief and spout something that she'd already heard from you a hundred times--how fate was stupid and God didn't have some master plan--when Eddie's watch beeped and interrupted that train of thought.

You glanced down at it and pressed the button to silence it.

Midnight again.

There was a split second where you thought it was funny; either time was moving slower, or the watch was moving faster. But that led you to another thought, more relevant to the conversation at hand.

You sighed and let it roll around in your head for a moment, let it marinate, before you spewed some bullshit on your friend.

"I'm gonna say something a little hypocritical," you offered. "And you can take it any way you want. What if...what if the lightning wasn't a punishment. It seems like a punishment, that's how you're choosing to believe it. But what if it was a sign that you're making the right choice by deciding you don't want this life."

"That's kind of a funny way for the universe to tell me I'm doing the right thing."

You looked back down at the watch.

"I guess it's all just a matter of perspective."

You left Mare to her thoughts as you went to shower, tend to your wounds, and change your clothes. You took your time with it too, hot water be damned; you deserved the time to yourself, to take care of yourself.

The sustained damage and grime of several days in the Upside Down made the shirt and jeans unsalvageable; however, the sentimental side of you couldn't bear to part with your jacket. You hand washed it in the sink, wrung out as much of the dirt and sweat and blood and muck as you could, and laid it over a chair in the dining room to dry as you shared a hearty meal with Dustin and Steve.

They waited to eat with you, instead of the other inhabitants of the house, who--as Nancy had revealed--all knew of the situation with Billy and were less than pleased with your involvement or your return.

So the boys spared you another bombardment of questions and accusations, and chose to eat with you instead.

It was...normal.

Or as close to normal as you were gonna get.

And it was nice.

"You need a break," Dustin said as he scooped now-cold mashed potatoes into his mouth. "We all do, honestly."

"Mmm, I don't think my boss is gonna let me have that," you snorted a laugh. "But it's a nice thought."

Conversation flowed easily, and of course strayed to Billy, who you learned was doing alright, but was still tied up in the garage for the time being.

"News travels fast through the Hawkins grapevine," Steve said with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. "But, uh, now Max knows he's here."

"And she wants to come and talk to him," Dustin added.

"So, you should let her," you suggested.

"I thought we already established that wasn't going to happen," Steve argued.

"Hey," you held your hands up defensively. "You brought it up. All I know is, something is going on with Billy...some side effect of his resurrection. Maybe even his death. Maybe seeing Max...talking to her will help him work through it."

"I brought it up so you could ask Eddie to undo whatever the fuck it was he did to bring Billy back in the first place."

"Uh huh." You pursed your lips and dragged your fork lazily across your plate. "I'll add it to my to-do list."

"I'm surprised that you hadn't asked him about Billy already."

"You know, my boyfriend who I haven't seen in 3 years, who I thought was dead for the last year and a half...asking him about Billy Hargrove wasn't a top priority."

Steve groaned and made a gagging noise. Dustin turned in his chair and wrapped his arms around himself as he made kissy noises to mock you and Eddie making out.

You laughed and thought of the many times Gareth or Mickey would do the same things--any of the guys really--when you tagged along with Eddie during their hangouts or band practices.

You missed the feeling of belonging, of having these pseudo younger brothers. And you knew Eddie must be missing them as well, Dustin especially.

You had half a mind to ask them where the Corroded Coffin boys had disappeared to, if they knew Mickey or Jack's families, if they were still in town--

Beep beep. Beep beep.

"What's that?" Dustin asked as you groaned and hit the button to silence the alarm. "S'that Eddie's watch?"

Midnight again.

"Yeah he gave it to me to...I dunno, prove this point that he only sent the creatures to feed every third day," you shook your head and then did some mental math. "So I guess they should have hunted yesterday. Right? Sixteenth, seventeenth, eighteenth. But the watch keeps saying it's midnight. I don't know. I think coming through the gate fucked it up and now it runs fast. It's the nineteenth and the watch says it's the twenty-first."

"Today's not the nineteenth," Dustin frowned. "It's the sixteenth."

"No it isn't. It's the nineteenth, I was in the Upside Down for three days. Maybe four?"

"That's why you said three days earlier?"

"Why else would I say three days if I wasn't gone for three days?"

"You were gone for a day," Steve explained. "Barely a day. You left last night before it started raining."

"No I didn't, I--" Your words fell short when Dustin shoved his own wrist in your face, and you looked at the flashing digitized date and time.

"You know," he swallowed thickly. "Way back when, we figured out that time is stuck in the Upside Down. Like, it's perpetually stuck on the day Will first disappeared. November 6th, 1983. And for a little while, before Vecna came back, we thought that we could...restart the timeline or something. Save all of our friends who died. If only we could...I dunno, access the past."

"I've seen a lot of shit," you muttered. "But time travel definitely isn't one of them."

"Obviously, it didn't work," Steve deadpanned.

"No shit!"

"But maybe," Dustin continued over your and Steve's quick bickering. "Maybe it didn't work because time isn't really stuck in the Upside Down. Vecna manipulated the Upside Down. Will did too--"

"And Eddie," you cut in. "He...he created a house from his memories. From when his mom was still alive."

"So the Hawkins in the Upside Down is stuck in the past, but time is actually moving faster."

You could feel the electric buzz as the three of you considered the implications of it all.

Time moved faster, which meant Eddie might not have just been stuck in the Upside Down for a year and a half...but years. Your heart ached at the thought of him there, alone except for the creatures and Vecna. Years. Maybe decades.

And you...you'd only been there a few days, sure. It felt real. The hours, the days...they had felt real. You slept, you got hungry, you ate. But in this world it was only one.

You looked at Eddie's watch again, and your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach.

The watch had beeped three times. Signaled midnight three times.

"Fuck!" You bolted to your feet and grabbed the still-damp jacket from the chair beside you. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

"What? What's going on?" Steve shouted.

"I need to go," was your only explanation. You briefly considered grabbing extra supplies--food and first aid--you thought of the books in your trunk, and your bag full of clothes. But it didn't matter in the end. You threw the jacket on and ran for the door. "I need to go. Don't wait up...I'll be fine just...fuck, I need to go!"

You were not precious about getting in the car or backing out of the driveway, and you might have even clipped the Harrington's mailbox as you threw the car into drive to race to the nearest gate.

It didn't matter, nothing mattered except for getting back to the Upside Down.

Because you had told Eddie you'd be back tomorrow. You'd promised him.

But to Eddie, you'd already broken your promise.

To him, it had already been three more days without you.

November 6, 1983

Crossing from the Upside Down into the real Hawkins with Wayne had been difficult.

He'd warned you about what to expect before he led you through the gate back home, and he was right, it had been strange. It felt like a weight was slowly lifted off your shoulders, but something invisible pinched at the backs of your arms and legs all the while, trying and failing to get you to stay.

It was worse crossing back through, though.

That heaviness settled back onto you, heavier than the load you already carried, with your bag laden with books and weapons that you'd taken from the car; the weight of an entire dimension and all of the beings that resided within ripped through the membranous barrier and settled onto you and into you as you forced yourself through to the other side.

No wonder Wayne had struggled to stand when he had crossed through earlier in the day.

The toll you needed to pay to enter this world was almost too much to bear.

Still, you made it through, wearily.

Your body ached, your half-healed wounds throbbed, and something deep down inside of you felt almost...abyss-like. Suddenly a little emptier than it had been just minutes before.

But you made it.

Thanks to a bit of foresight, you crossed through the gate at the Creel House, figuring it would be your best bet to find Eddie right away.

The towering pillars--now empty of their inhabitants--the mangled silhouette of the house behind it, and the swarm of bats that circled overhead made you a little nervous, though.

Not from fear, necessarily, but worry and doubt.

Maybe Eddie thought you'd cross back at Lover's Lake and was there instead; there was no reason for him to expect that you'd cross through here, especially since you had departed with Wayne. That would be a trek to walk all the way to Lover's Lake, and you knew you wouldn't be lucky enough to find a bicycle or something. And you might have been on this side of the time warp, but that didn't mean time was on your side.

The bats, surprisingly, gave you hope.

If they were here...did that mean that Eddie was nearby? You had seen how fond he was of them, and vice versa. Maybe he was just inside? Or, if anything, were they flying overhead looking for you?

There was only one way to find out, and you were motivated by a singular focus.

A singular thought that was riddled with guilt.

It. Had. Been. Days.

You dropped your backpack and shook off the heavy, weary weakness that the Upside Down had imparted upon you and began the trek into the house to see if you could find Eddie.

You retraced the steps that you'd taken during your initial descent through the Creel house the other day, trying to ignore the frightening flashes of movement that occurred in your peripheral vision.

You knew they wouldn't hurt you, so you couldn't get distracted; you were on a mission.

Distraction, however, was inevitable; you found that, although the path you had taken still remained, the vastness of the maze of rooms had only grown. Grown in size and in scale. In how convoluted the entire house seemed to be, like something out of a horror movie.

Or maybe something out of the Munsters, really, because as unsettling as it all was, there was an air of...humor to it all.

And that brand of humor screamed of Eddie Munson.

Sure there was a living room and dining room--several of them now, actually--and each one was more elongated and warped than the last, like reflections in a house of mirrors. Funhouse mirrors. You passed a bedroom where the bed floated from the floor and then settled on the ceiling. And beside it was a room with a closed door that seemed to expand and contract as though it was a living, breathing creature.

Had he done all of this to the Creel house in boredom? Morphed it into something comical and new as he waited for your return.

What was not comical, though, were the sounds. An unsettling ambience of hissing and grumbling and groaning that only got louder and clearer as you ascended levels and hopped across the cavernous breaks in the stairs.

It was promising at first, then concerning, as the sounds morphed and seemed to sound like words.

They weren't any words you could understand or fathom; you were pretty well-versed with languages--if not through speech, through recognition, at the very least--and this didn't sound human. They were words in some infernal devilish language made to accommodate many teeth and tongues and mouths that stretched wider than a human's could.

Some language that originated here in the Upside Down. Made of chittering and clicking and screeching.

You finally reached the landing at the bottom of the steps that led to the attic, and you tip-toed over the vine-laden floor, only to halt in your tracks by a sudden cacophony of roar and screams.

A shadow suddenly flooded the wall that followed up the steps, and you watched as the contrasting darkness and light fluttered like a wing, then stretched into a clawed hand whose nail scratched along the length of the banister. You could see the sharpness of that claw with such clarity that you were almost shocked that the wallpaper didn't split as it moved.

Finally, the shadow turned into the silhouette of an elongated figure.

"Do you see what happens," came a muffled voice above. "Do you see what happens when you fail me?"

You frowned; the voice sounded familiar.

Eddie?

"How have we failed?" Another voice this time, easier to identify: Patrick.

"She's out there, and you've yet to find her."

Guilt crept in again; were they talking about you?

You could have gone up there, could have made your presence known but you were curious--

Alright, you were nosy.

--but in your curiosity, you were frozen in place.

"She isn't out there." There was a broken, slurred quality to this speech, but you could still tell it belonged to Fred. “You’d know. We would all know.”

"She's lost."

"She left you," Chrissy hissed, her voice having the most clarity of all three brides. "You're just in denial Eddie."

There was that roar again, and you startled at the sound, but Chrissy's simpering whimper cut through the roar, and it stopped abruptly.

"Don't fear me," Eddie sighed. "Everybody else fears me...please I need the three of you on my side."

"We are on your side," Chrissy continued with bittersweetness. "The only ones. You made us, you healed us. We'll always be on your side. But your little knight...left you here. Again."

"She's lost," Eddie repeated insistently.

"She left you all alone to bask in your loneliness. Tricked you into thinking you were alone without her, when you have us Eddie. Left you here with nothing but the smell of her on your skin. You stink of her."

"Then it should be easier for you to find her," Eddie shouted, rage returning.

The shadow moved from the wall and the infernal speech began anew, with the screams and screeches quick to follow.

Until, Eddie's voice boomed with finality.

"You will go out there and find her! And you won't rest until she's back here. Nothing is as important as bringing her back to me."

"Nothing," Patrick groaned. "Do we mean nothing to you?"

"Are you really such a heartless creature?" Chrissy questioned.

"Yes," Eddie hissed.

The ceiling shook above you as a booted foot stomped overhead.

"I have no heart. Without her."

Stomp.

"I feel no love without her."

Stomp.

"I feel no joy." Stomp. "No sorrow." Stomp. "I am hollow. And I will live here--be stuck here--forever."

The roar emanated again, loud enough where you had to cover your ears. When it was over, there was a flurry of wings as, you could only assume, the brides took flight through the cavernous hole in the attic.

You broke from your reverie, and took a step forward; your sneaker-covered foot caused the floor to creak.

You winced and froze again as the shuffling overhead stopped.

The infernal speech sounded once. Then again. Then the stomping crossed the attic towards the stairs and you swallowed your hesitation to speak.

"Eddie?" you called out. "That you? Are you up there?"

"Sweetheart?" he responded, relief obvious in his muffled voice. "You're back."

You took another step upwards.

"I am. I'm sorry, I didn't realize--"

"Stop!" He shouted. "What are you doing? Stay there."

"Why?"

"Don't. Move." He groaned.

The sounds that followed were sickening.

Crunching and stretching and clicking; you could hear him groan for a moment before an agony-filled cry echoed through the stairwell and caused goosebumps to erupt along your skin.

Whatever hesitation you had was gone; it vanished as soon as you believed Eddie to be in pain. In danger.

You took the steps two at a time until you found yourself just feet away from Eddie's heaving, hunched form, teetering near the cracked precipice in the floor that split the attic in two. You crossed the distance and knelt beside him; your hand found his shaking shoulder and you pulled him into you, away from the dangerous edge.

"What happened?" you questioned frantically. "What was all that; what's wrong?"

"How much did you hear?" he ignored you to ask instead, voice weak and dry.

"Does it matter? What is this? What happened?"

"Nothing happened," he breathed out. "The others...I'd sent them out to find you, I thought--"

"I'm here." You interrupted him. You snaked your hand around to cup his cheek and lifted his head so he could look at you. His eyes were blood-red and shined with a wet glassiness. "There's just...there was a misunderstanding, but I'm here now."

"Don't go," he muttered desperately, turning his face into your touch.

"I won't."

"You were gone for so long. You promised. Don't leave me again."

"Eddie I promise--and this time I swear I will keep it--I'll never leave you again."

November 6, 1983

You woke the next morning--or at least, you thought it was morning; it was never actually daytime in the Upside Down, it seemed--alone.

Eddie had broken the news that the two of you needed to stay at the Creel House for the night, and despite your hesitations, you were also tired enough that you couldn't object. Any bed seemed appealing enough, after several days of little to no sleep. Even if it wasn't that makeshift bed in his childhood home, that cozy safe haven he'd made, it was alright as long as he was there.

But you'd spent the evening talking, discussing the time warp between the Upside Down and the real Hawkins.

Eddie had a hard time understanding at first, and he confessed that his feelings were affected by the belief that you'd either gotten lost or hurt or abandoned him again. But after a stretch of pensive silence where he squeezed you tightly and ran his nose along your hairline, he admitted that it made sense.

"I used to think time didn't exist here," he whispered, voice thick with emotion. "First it was...the endless suffering and torture Vecna put me through to make me into this. And then it was endless waiting. It felt like an eternity."

Your throat tightened at the thought that it felt like an eternity because it probably was.

"I guess that just means," you spoke in a hushed and hopeful tone. "That just means we have more time to figure out how to get you out of here. More time together before I need to go back."

And that sent him into a panic, because you'd just promised him that you'd stay.

His hands clutched you tighter, tips of his clawed fingers biting through your clothes and the slightest bit into your skin. He pressed his body further into yours, as if you meld the two of you together.

It took a lot of soothing, a lot of explaining, to remind him once again that you had very human needs. Like food, and sleep, and hygiene.

"There's not exactly running water here Eddie," you joked and he huffed stubbornly. You let your eyes roam about his skin, somehow not covered in grime like the rest of the dimension. "I don't know how you keep so clean."

"I could show you," he teased seductively, lips brushing against yours.

It was obvious he was trying to change the subject, trying to make you forget the idea of leaving him. And you let him, let him kiss away his worries and yours.

Lying awake now, though, you considered what the consequences would be if you simply stayed.

You observed your body, really honed in on your sense of self. That heaviness that had settled on you upon entering the Upside Down hadn't faded yet; in fact, you'd felt it when you'd woken up the first time, but had simply attributed it to the Brides' attack on you.

Would you get used to it over time? Had Eddie gotten used to it? He seemed comfortable in his skin, in this realm; there was no heaviness about him. Had whatever...transformation he'd undergone at the hands of Vecna contributed?

There was just something about him though that seemed extreme; he'd always had very volatile emotions--normal for a young adult, just like you--now it seemed he teetered back and forth even more than you were used to. Happy and affectionate one moment, distant and miserable the next, and sometimes...there was nothing at all.

What had he said to the brides? He was hollow?

You certainly felt a little bit of that hollowness, but then again...you had for quite some time now. Since you had left him in '85. And it hadn't gone away until the moment you were reunited.

Maybe it was just the connection you had, your reliance on each other and your love for one another, that made it feel this way.

The door to the bedroom creaked open and you startled, then quickly relaxed as Eddie crept inside; the hollowness in your chest suddenly seemed a little lessened thanks to his presence.

Yes. That's what it was; what it had to be.

"Morning Sleeping Beauty," he whispered as he shut the door behind him.

"Gross," you whined with a giggle. "When did you become such a romantic?"

"Excuse me, I've always been romantic," he said, hand flying over his heart with mock insult. "You, my love, have never even gotten me a Valentine's Day gift."

"We've never spent a Valentine's Day together dingus." You stuck your tongue out at him.

He hemmed and hawed for a minute and then his figure blurred across the room as he closed the distance and jumped onto the bed, smothering you in kisses and raspberries and little affectionate nips. You squealed and tried to bat him away, with no real force or effort, until he cupped your face and gifted you with the sweetest kiss filled with as much loving reverence as he could.

Your heart soared and that hollowness faded more and more with every second. Faded, but didn't disappear altogether.

And you realized it wouldn't be gone until you made this all better; until you could really be together.

In the real world and not this...purgatory.

"Speaking of conformist, capitalist holidays only meant to sell cards and candy--" Eddie broke the kiss and you flicked his ear.

"I have to have a lecture now? Instead of more kisses?" you scoffed.

"Yes, because you said it's October. And we might not have had a Valentine's Day together, but we've definitely celebrated Sweetest Day together."

"Is that even a thing?" you narrowed your eyes at him. "Sounds like something you made up."

"No," he shook his head back and forth. "I promise. We have had a Sweetest Day together. Remember I told you about the Sadie Hawkins dance at the middle school once upon a time? It was on Sweetest Day."

"Uh," you tried to recall him saying something about it at any point in your relationship. "No."

"I tried to butter up Principal Coleman to get Corroded Coffin to play at the dance?"

"Doesn't ring a bell."

"And he said no."

"That sounds familiar."

"But then we spent the day together anyway and I got you McDonalds breakfast? Angel, come on."

"You got me McDonalds breakfast a lot of times," you giggled. "Get to the point!"

"I'm trying to ask my girlfriend out on a date," he rolled his eyes at you. "But she is the least romantic person on the face of the earth, if not in all of time itself."

You ignored his dramatic insults and instead fawned over the sweet gesture with some confusion.

"A date? Eddie...what date? We're in the Upside Down. We gonna go out to the quarry and makeout? I'm sure there are cars parked up there, even frozen in time like this, if we wanted to fuck in the backseat."

He froze for a second and looked a little embarrassed, and if not for the low light of the room and the deathly pallor of his skin, you were sure he'd be turning red.

"I, uh," he coughed and tried to recollect himself. "No, not the quarry. Something better. Something perfect just for you, specifically."

"Do I need to wear a dress?"

"Do you have a dress?"

"No."

"Good, neither do I," he laughed. "And I don't have a tux either. So jeans and t-shirts it is."

"Uh, Eddie..."

"Hey listen..."

"...when you said romantic date..."

"...hear me out..."

"A church wasn't the first thing that came to mind," you finished and stared up at the steepled structure before you.

You pointedly avoided anything religious when you lived in Hawkins; Eddie had asked you about it when he'd first seen your cross necklace. You had told him you wouldn't be caught dead in a church, and at that time, it had been true. Because of that, the two of you had mocked Hawkins Presbyterian Church with its pristine white exterior, and its attendees with their John Winthrop-inspired holier-than-thou exceptionalism.

This church, though, was certainly not like that. And although your faith was still shaky at best, begrudging at worst, you felt more at ease here.

Maybe it was the fact that you were in the Upside Down, and maybe because it was clearly a Catholic Church and the stained glass window felt familiar. But aside from the window that reflected all manner of colors at the distant lightning, it was unassuming. Quiet and square and austere, with dull brown bricks that made up the small chapel's exterior, and a steepled bell tower that didn't even look like it had a bell.

Much like you did with Nancy, you felt some kind of kinship to this forgotten little building.

Still, it wasn't your ideal location for a date.

"I knew about this place before I even met you," Eddie explained. "Out past the plant, been abandoned for years. Mickey and Jack and I used to come and throw rocks at the windows. Even broke in once to see if there was anything cool inside."

"Seriously?" you laughed at him. "Yeah, no wonder people thought you worshiped Satan."

"No one ever knew," he held his hands out innocently. "Not even Wayne. And we didn't even steal anything. But uh, I dunno...after you left...I even thought about coming here to pray once. Not even to pray for you to come back. Thought about your grandma all of a sudden one day; drove out here. Couldn't find it in me to get out of the van."

"Maybe that was around the time she actually got sick," you wondered aloud.

"Like I had some psychic powers or something, even before all of this?" he gestured to himself with a laugh. "Hey, stranger things have happened."

He cleared his throat and led you inside.

Although didn't look much better inside--peeling plaster, overturned pews, and the chains to hang a cross over the altar but no cross itself--the interior at least didn't seem to be touched by the vines and tentacles and muck that covered the rest of the Upside Down.

"Maybe God does exist after all," Eddie laughed as he walked backwards down the aisle, responding to your observation almost like he read your mind. "Or maybe Vecna was just afraid of churches or something; places of worship like this...are generally left alone."

"I'm sure religious trauma isn't that far of a stretch to assume with Vecna," you agreed. "My power is a little strained in the Upside Down though; makes me think if...I dunno...there even are any higher powers here."

"I'm sure there's gotta be something out there. Like the Force in Star Wars."

You snorted and shook your head as you followed him.

Contrary to your previous statement about your abilities, you didn't hesitate to ignite the remnants of candles in the votive racks beside the altar. You conjured the warm, ever-present burn of the core of the earth and the wicks lit aflame, bathing the chapel in a warm, illuminating glow.

It was with this new light that you noticed the blanket and pillows that had been set up in front of the altar table, along with a pile of snacks and a puzzle.

A perfect little date, just like you used to have camped out in the living room of the trailer.

You felt your own loving glow emanate from within, as you were filled with adoration for Eddie. That he would try to bring you some normalcy, even if your lives were anything but normal.

"I found a World's Best Boyfriend mug when I was exploring once," he said matter-of-factly after you voiced your gratitude for the setup. "There's not much to do here when we aren't actively feeding or fighting. But, uh, you can give it to me as a gift if you want; I'll even act surprised."

"I'll definitely keep that in mind," you promised him, and then settled on the blanket.

Eddie started organizing the pieces of the puzzle as you dug through the snacks--more of Eddie's favorites, courtesy of Wayne: slice soda, Hostess pudding pies, cool ranch Doritos and...

"Wha--" you hesitated at the items hidden at the bottom of the pile. "Ok, I know we're in a church but all joke's aside, seriously?"

You picked up the bottle of sacramental wine and package of communion wafers.

"I found them while I was setting up," he shrugged and laughed. "Saw the crosses on the packages, thought it would be a good pun. I'll even try them if you want, food aversion be damned."

"I doubt they're any good."

You were about to set them aside so you could open a can of soda, but then a wicked little thought wormed its way into your head. You bit your lip to keep yourself from giggling, but Eddie was quick to notice.

"What? What's that look?"

"Nothing," you tilted your head to the side and contemplated telling him. "It's nothing just...I don't know if I ever told you...probably not but...I've never had communion before."

You explained the principle to him, the way you were denied your own First Communion in favor of the revelation of your family's curse, how you still would take your Nonna up whenever you'd go to mass with her...but were never even offered the absolution for yourself. Even by the priests who didn't know who and what you were, as though there was a stain on your soul that they could simply tell would never be washed away by a simple mouthful of bread and wine.

"To quote my mom, that's a bunch of horseshit," Eddie laughed. "Everyone deserves to be forgiven. You're telling me Loudmouth Linda who curses at the waitress at lunch after church on Sunday's deserves it more than you who's literally fighting evil every day? Baby, if you don't open that pack of crackers and eat one right now I'm gonna have to hand feed one to you."

"Well," you hummed, "this is supposed to be a romantic date. Ed--Eddie I was kidding."

He snatched the packet of wafers from you and sliced it open with his claws without hesitation; he brought the package up to his nose to sniff it and then plucked one wafer out and held it in front of his eyes.

"It looks plain," he noted.

"It's supposed to be plain."

"And it smells stale."

You took the package from him and sniffed gently for yourself.

"Yeah," you agreed. "That's what they smell like."

"Then I don't know what all the commotion is about," he announced dismissively. "I mean...damn I thought it was pretty metal, actually. Everyone going someplace every Sunday to eat someone's flesh and drink someone's blood in a ritual. But it's just...this."

You couldn't help but laugh at him.

He cleared his throat and knelt before you; he held one hand over your head and spoke your name aloud. He projected his voice and it echoed throughout the chapel, the deep reverberation penetrated deep into your bones.

"Eddie," you muttered. "What are you doing?"

"I'm forgiving you," he spoke normally for a second.

"You...you can't," you laughed in disbelief.

"Who said?"

"Uh, I don't know," you scoffed. "Only every priest, bishop, cardinal, pope everyone in my family has ever met. We have to earn our own forgiveness. End this curse ourselves. And it's gonna end with me, one way or another."

"Well, I think that's bullshit because it sounds like no one has ever tried." He closed his eyes and held his hand out again.

"It's not even gonna do anything," you argued. "The wafer is symbolic."

"I'm channeling my holy energy sweetheart. I can't hear you."

"Alright," you waved dismissively. "Whatever, go ahead and try."

He hummed deeply and recited the monks' chant from Monty Python and the Holy Grail, complete with smacking the top of your head with the palm of his hand. He even had the audacity to shush you as you giggled.

But the longer it went, the more he waved his hands and whispered blessings from this book and that movie, the more you felt...something.

Something inside of you stirred, felt different, lighter. Even the weight of the Upside Down wasn't as prominent. And you knew, logically, that nothing had changed in you, that the curse would still be there after whatever-this-was was over.

But in the moment, you couldn't help but close your eyes and bask in the feeling, especially as you started to feel the sting of tears in your eyes.

"Alright sweetheart," Eddie whispered after a few more moments. "Open the hatch."

You snorted and opened your mouth, hands coming together in prayer almost instinctively; he laid the wafer on your tongue and then cupped your face in his hands.

"There," he whispered and pressed the lightest kiss to your forehead. "You're forgiven."

You choked a sob and opened your eyes to look at him, tears immediately running down your cheeks and over his fingers.

"God," you sobbed and laughed simultaneously. "Fuck."

"I'm not God, I'm Eddie." He shot you his idiotic, crooked grin and then thumbed over your cheeks. "You ok?"

"Yeah, I'm ok. Sit down now, before you ruin our date even more," you hiccuped.

You silently wiped the tears away and tore into the snacks, joking that the junk food tasted a lot better than the wafer did. Eddie hesitantly put a wafer of his own into his mouth and then immediately stuck his tongue out and scraped the remnants of it away.

"God, I really can't eat real food, can I?" he lamented once he'd spat out the taste of it enough times.

"I think it just tastes like that," you offered as a consolation.

"Expectation almost never meets reality, I guess. You should try the wine too; prove that grape soda is better. Or maybe don't, that way I don't have to miss it that much."

You laughed and swatted at him, and then got an idea.

"Hang on," you got to your feet and held your hands out to stop him from following you. "Hang on, don't go anywhere, keep working on the puzzle, I'll be right back."

You skipped back past the altar to the little rectory hallway that led to the sacristy. The door was already cracked open and although it was mostly barren, there was a small pile of cloth that must have been vestments, and...

"Bingo," you muttered and crossed the room to grab your prize. You blew dust off of them and then turned back the way you came.

"You know," you exclaimed when you arrived back in the chapel. "When I say you're an idiot, you really are an idiot, Eddie Munson."

"I'm not disagreeing with you," he responded. "But what did I do to earn such an honorific?"

"You come to a church in the middle of the Upside Down, you set up a picnic for us, you even find holy bread and wine for me. And you don't even bring us the proper drinking vessels."

You held out two golden chalices, ornately etched with crosses and flowers and vines.

"You know," you dropped to your knees and placed them on the blanket. "You and I spent an entire weekend way back when making chalices for Hellfire club; I'm honestly surprised if you went pillaging for goods for this picnic, you didn't immediately cream your little nerd pants at the sight of these. Something might actually be wrong with you."

"Excuse me, I was only trying to find the best things for you, your highness." He did an exaggerated bow as he sat. "Wasn't thinking of finding any treasure for myself. But now that you mention it, these could be an awesome addition to the Hellfire repertoire. If only I..."

He trailed off and cleared his throat as you opened the bottle of wine and began to fill one of the chalices for yourself.

"If only what?" you asked. He shrugged dismissively and refused to meet your gaze. "What? If only you get to play with the guys again? You will. I'm getting you out of here. Or I'll die trying."

"Don't say that," he hissed, head snapping back towards you. "Don't."

"Then don't be such a negative Nancy," you said, intentionally thinking of your would-be-nemesis back in Hawkins.

"It's more than just getting out of here, alright? I've done things. Terrible things, actually, speaking of Nancy.

"You know I killed her boyfriend? Jonathan Byers. He was the first one. The worst one. But Vecna wanted me to send a message, so it had to be him. I killed her dad too. And this kid Lucas' dad. Both of them in one swift slash."

He jutted his arm out, hand curled in a claw, talons razor-sharp and glinting as they cut through the air. His eyes were wild, pupils blown, mouth wide open in a hiss, fangs extended.

Then there was a beat and he seemed to realize himself; he drew his arm back against his chest and cradled one hand in the other. He clicked his claws against one another pathetically and then sighed.

"I killed Mickey," he murmured, voice so low you could barely hear. "I killed Rick. Watched the life leave their eyes. And I think...I know...I enjoyed it."

The chapel was silent after those words, save for the roar of lightning outside, and your heavy, pensive breaths.

Your heart ached. Ached for Mickey and Rick, but more for Eddie.

You knew that feeling. Knew that guilt. It was an old friend.

You looked down at the chalice filled with wine, and then at the other one, which you were about to fill despite Eddie's lack of need for food and drink.

And you were struck with an idea.

You set the bottle aside and scooted closer to him, you took one of his hands in yours and ignored his questions as you leant down and kissed his palm and each of the pads of his fingers.

You then maneuvered his hand so his clawed thumb pressed into the meat of your palm, and then dragged it deep through the middle of it. You created a cut deep and long, despite Eddie's protests, and then let the blood drip down into the empty chalice.

"What are you doing?" he snapped at you. "What is this?"

"You forgave me," you answered, voice heavy with determination. "And now I'm forgiving you."

"Sweetheart, you don't have to--"

"Don't have to do this?" you repeated your own words from earlier. "This isn't going to work? Eddie...just...if I'm not doing this for you then I'm doing this for myself."

He looked like he was about to argue again, but you weren't going to let him.

"You never know," you quickly stopped him. "This could get us a step closer to getting you out of here."

He closed his mouth with an audible click of teeth, and motioned for you to continue.

You didn't have as much theatricality as Eddie had before. You simply let the chalice fill to an acceptable amount of blood, and then grabbed it with both hands and held it slightly raised before you.

"This is my blood," you recited words that you'd heard thousands of times. You looked at Eddie and shared a shaky smile as your eyes locked together. "The blood of a new and everlasting covenant. It has been shed for you, Eddie, so that your sins may be forgiven. Now and forever."

You lowered the chalice and tried to pass it over to him, but he backed away quickly. Quicker than the eye could see.

He was suddenly across the room, pacing with his head in his hands, shaking.

"What is it?" You watched as he muttered to himself and shook his head. "Eddie, what?"

"I don't deserve this," he said. "I don't deserve...your forgiveness."

"Yes you do. You said it yourself, what makes you any less deserving of forgiveness than...I don't know...than me, than Nancy Wheeler, than anyone?"

"Because I'm a liar!" He turned back to you and shouted. "I'm a liar, I'm a coward, and I'm a monster."

"Don't say that."

"I am."

"You're not! You're my boyfriend. You're Eddie Munson. You're...the silliest, stupidest, bravest boy I know. You take care of everyone you love, much more than you think to take care of yourself, and you...you were lost. And all of those things that you did...you did them when you were lost. So you deserve a chance to make it alright. You deserve forgiveness."

"I'm not talking about what I did when Vecna was still alive," Eddie told you through gritted teeth. "I'm talking about now. I'm a coward now. I'm a liar now. I'm a monster now."

"Eddie..."

"And you'll never know how much I don't deserve this," he waved at the altar, at the chalice, at you. "Until I show you what's become of me. Who I am now. What I am now."

You were stunned silent as he shed his jacket, as he kicked off his boots, as he took several breaths.

And then he screamed.

You tried to get to your feet, tried to get to him, but the sight before you prevented you from moving at all.

His clothes ripped first, then his skin; they stretched until they couldn't stretch any more. The seams of his shirt, of his jeans--the seams that you'd traced along his limbs--all split as his body bulged and stretched in an utterly inhuman way.

But where his clothes shredded and tore gave way to thread, his skin just made room for more skin, more bones.

His legs elongated, raised him higher off the ground, and his feet practically uncurled to become longer, more dexterous, with claws of their own that could slash and grab like his hands.

And speaking of his hands and his arms, they were next; you felt sick to your stomach as you listened to his bones snap into pieces, as he groaned with each snap. But they were quick to shift into new places, and soon he stretched to find comfort in this new, elongated wingspan that matched his towering height; he flexed his fingers, now sporting longer, knife-like claws, and extra phalanges that could bend in any direction he chose.

On and on it went, as his shoulders got wider and broader, as his torso stretched and rippled, as his neck became unfathomably long.

He threw his head back and the seams of that scarred Glasgow smile ripped open anew, dripping blood down his cheeks and throat. The unsettling smile he now sported wasn't complete though, not until rows and rows of fangs--not just the two sets you'd seen and grown used to as they smiled and bit into you--grew and settled along his jaw. Razor sharp, glinting in the firelight, promising to bring about a creature's demise if they weren't careful.

And finally, just when you thought it was all over, the skin along his abdomen rippled. You had thought there was something wrong there, when you'd run your hands along his ribcage over the past few days as you'd held each other in bed.

There was something wrong. Something terribly, horribly wrong.

Eddie fell to his knees, and his talons anchored into the stone floor of the chapel as he hunched over. The scars you had felt along his back split, and from them grew two massive, bat-like wings, unfurling from where they'd been tucked away in the cavity of his body. They were made of bones and muscle and a thin, veiny, membranous skin that you could practically see the light of the votives through.

Eddie twitched on the ground and the wings flexed and flapped; the droplets of blood that had coated the wings sprayed around the chapel; onto the altar and the pews, dousing a few of the candles with a steamy hiss, even pelting your skin, causing you to flinch.

At the end of it all, when this metamorphosis was complete, and something new had emerged from the body that had once belonged to Eddie Munson, he rose.

With a great wide mouth and clawed hands raised to the heavens, the creature roared.

It was an ear-splitting sound, bellowing and shrieking all at once.

And then it turned to you.

He turned to you.

Eddie turned to you.

Because you might have made the mistake of thinking him a creature once, but you vowed never again.

All of the thoughts that had halted as you watched the spectacle with unblinking eyes suddenly flooded your brain. All manner of logic and emotion, fighting and contradicting one another, as you struggled to reconcile what you had seen, what you had felt, and what you knew all into one truth.

How many things had you faced like this before, with too many teeth and claws that slashed and tore? How many countless names of creatures had you memorized over the years, not just of being a knight, but of being alive? You could name them all now, if you dared, but no name would ever match up to what was on display before your very eyes. Nothing like this.

But what was this?

This...it...he...was your boyfriend. The love of your life.

He wasn't just what he was once or had ever been; this was what had become of him, what had been done to him in the name of evil. This was the result of his trauma, but also his survival. And because of that, or maybe in spite of that, he wasn't inherently evil himself.

Contrary to your instincts--contrary to what had been taught to you all your life, all you had ever faced or ever known--you knew he was good. In fact, good was all you ever knew him to be, even during the brief stint where you believed there was a Kas, a dastardly nemesis who'd vowed to kill you.

This image certainly could conjure that belief...but it simply...didn't.

You thought back to something that you had told Mary Victoria. That Eddie was good, but you didn't know if he was good enough for Heaven.

Heaven, though, was not just a place for good people. It was a place for forgiveness, a place of peace. And didn't Eddie, by the grace of all the atrocities that he had been a part of, that had been imparted onto him, also deserve that peace? Deserve that forgiveness.

You stood on shaky legs, chalice still held in your wounded hand, and approached him.

His shoulders heaved with labored breaths as he watched you, and he flinched as you got close enough.

"Please," he growled, and you recognized the muffled quality of his voice from the previous night, talking to the Brides, and you realized that he had to talk through the mouthful of his teeth. It was different, but still his voice. "Please I don't want to hurt you.

"You won't," you assured him, shifting to try to meet his gaze; you had to crane your neck to look him in the eye at this new height. "I trust you. I believe in you."

"I'm a monster. I told you."

"No...you're..." You paused and let your eyes roam over him again, closer this time, and you were able to see the small details now, illuminated by the candlelight. The throbbing of veins, the texture of his skin, the ripple of muscles, yes...but also the soft curl of his hair, his musicians fingers--even with the claws--and the bulbous tip of his nose.

He was still Eddie.

And Eddie Munson was many things.

But not a monster, not a creature, not a beast. No.

You reached out to grab one of his hands and you wrapped his elongated fingers around the rounded bowl of the chalice.

His red scleras shined wet with tears and he took the chalice from you fully; he raised it to his mouth, then tipped his head back, and drank your blood in one exaggerated swallow.

Was this what happened when someone looked upon the true form of a God? Were they fully unprepared for the sight before them? Was that the true test, to see something so unfathomable and horrific and still find it...

"Beautiful," you muttered. "God...Eddie, you're beautiful."

He was quick to grab you, quick to haul you into his arms and run the edges of his claws along your face and down your neck reverently; he made quick work of your clothes, ripping the seams of them like his transformation had ripped the seams of his. With you, however, there was surgical precision.

He was almost too gentle in this new form, not wanting to hurt you, but you'd welcome the hurt, crave it, if it meant you could be one with him quicker. You desired it now, desired him, all of him, every part of this new version that he had revealed to you.

How many times, before the Upside Down, before Vecna, had he been ridiculed and mocked because of his appearance? Because he seemed rude or dangerous or rowdy...evil. But those closest to him--the people he belonged to, that belonged to him--always saw the true him. Recognized it, celebrated it.

Now, it was only amplified; the startling appearance, the danger, the fearful exterior. But it was still Eddie.

How could you not embrace him entirely? Want to bask in him? Consume all of him? You'd changed entirely in his eyes--maybe not in appearance, but in fundamental definition--and his want for you never faltered.

It was still Eddie, and he was yours.

And you were still you, and you were his.

Body and soul.

You swatted his hand away from you so you could touch him for yourself, so you could explore and caress him, kiss him.

You were hesitant at first, running your fingers gently along his lips, then further back along the cavernous maw that had been revealed.

"It hurts you," you noted; not a question, an observation. "To do this...it hurts you."

"It's easier to hide it," he tried to make the excuse. "They don't look at me like I'm...a monster when I still look like Eddie Munson."

"You still look like Eddie Munson, though," you tilted your head to the side in quiet contemplation. "Same eyes, same hair, same dumb jokes...just a little more..."

"Metal?"

"Bitey."

You touched the tip of one of his fangs with a finger and watched how easily it punctured your skin as a droplet of blood pooled there. The corners of his eyes crinkled, the apples of his cheeks round and pleasant; he nipped at your fingers gently, playfully as his shoulders shook and there was a hissing, chittering sound that rattled inside of his chest along with a deepened chuckle. You listened in awe, and basked in the sound of his new laughter.

When you couldn't hold yourself back anymore, you leaned forward and pecked a kiss to the bow of his upper lip. He huffed and you kissed it again, and again, until he shifted his jaw and was able to kiss you back properly.

It was a strange sensation, feeling the contrasting plush of his lips and the unforgiving hardness of his fangs just below; strange to navigate, actually, but it made for an interesting time. Just when you thought there couldn't be many more new or first experiences together, this change presented so many possibilities.

Possibilities that you both seemed eager to discover.

The kissing was something mastered quickly, which was relieving as you seemed to always want your lips on him, or his on you. His teeth nipped and cut when the excitement overwhelmed you both, but it wouldn't matter really. You'd heal, just like all of the other bites and wounds he had inflicted on you in the past few days slowly healed. Eddie was incredibly apologetic though.

That was where his tongue came into play.

At first you thought he licked the cut that had carved your bottom lip to lap up the bit of blood that pooled there, and you had half a mind to offer your neck to him to feed, or your wrist or some other part of you. But soon it became soothing, and you almost craved the calming back and forth over the stinging wound, as you stared up into the deep, warm, blood-and-chocolate abyss of his eyes.

But he didn't stop at your lip.

You offered for him to feed from you, as you had intended, and he had laid you down on the altar in order to do so comfortably. Comfort was not the word that you would use, though; the sensation of more fangs piercing your throat was almost troubling, and the pain was borderline unbearable, but you resolved to soldier through it for him.

Anything for him.

His tongue made itself known once again, and your eyes, that you had shut to keep stinging tears at bay, shot open as you tried to fathom the sensations you felt.

His teeth had punctured your skin, and he drew mouthful after mouthful of your blood, but then there was his tongue, snaking over the bite wounds as well, pressed against his teeth from the inside of his mouth...and then the outside.

"Eddie!" you exclaimed in shock, and with a wet squelch, he pulled away from you and you saw it.

Long and wet, patchwork and mottled, his tongue was elongated and lolling out of his mouth; it began to retract, back into his mouth, and his throat seemed to bulge with it.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "I didn't mean to scare you."

And you should have been scared; instinct told you to feel fear. Especially because the image he presented right in this very moment--the combination of the teeth and tongue and his wings extended behind him--conjured thoughts of the manananggal.

The creature that killed your father.

"I'm not afraid," you told him truthfully.

You weren't.

There was that dark little whisper inside of you again, only this time, it basked in some invisible triumph over your father. He had faced countless dark creatures and failed. Perished. And here you were, despite everything you had been through because of him...facing the dark and dangerous thing Eddie had become and still seeing the good, the light, the love in him.

You and Eddie were basking in something greater than the light of "God's forgiveness," you were basking in the light of each other. A forgiveness you crafted together.

You reached out to Eddie to bring him to you again, so you could soothe the worry that he'd scared you; however, he took the gesture to mean something else.

He lowered himself to you again, rubbed his nose along yours gently, only this time, he allowed his tongue to snake back out. You watched, entranced, and allowed yourself the moment to get lost in the feel of it, lapping at the still-weeping bite on your neck, then down the valley of your breasts, the soft slope of your stomach, right down to the core of you.

You gasped and Eddie's cold breath fanned across your face as he huffed in triumph.

You let him play with you for a moment, tease your clit, your weeping slit, but just as he was about to breach your entrance, you stopped him.

His tongue retracted as he pulled back, and his brow furrowed in concern.

"You don't want that?" he teased. "Don't want me to eat your pussy; you always want that, sweetheart. Fuck, I always want that."

"I want to take care of you," you confessed with wide-eyed wonder as you trailed a finger along his arm. "I want to learn everything I can about you, want to explore every inch of you."

Like a great adventurer exploring a new and unknown world.

His eyes shifted back and forth between yours--nervously and full of uncertainty--and then he melded your lips together again, a desperate kind of gratitude emanating from him through the kiss.

You switched places then.

Him laying comfortably on the altar, propped by the pillows he had brought for your comfort.

But not before you got a full glimpse of him.

Tattered clothes shed, he stood there for your pleasurable observation, proud and preening and practically purring as you circled him like the predator he was meant to be.

You found that all the bleeding wounds that had split open during his transformation had healed now. And the scars, the seams of him that you attended to over the past few days and had been susceptible and weak before, were now strong; yes still scars, but mountains along the topographical map that made up his skin. And where the scars were mountains, the visible veins were rivers.

You stood on your tip toes to kiss along his spine, and that was when you found his wings to be especially sensitive. They fluttered at your touch, and he chittered and shook again, spoke your name with a delicious groan.

Amused, you tried the move again, but he seemed to have enough. He flapped his wings in several great beats, the power of which carried him forward, toes just grazing the stone floor. He turned as he settled into the little love nest on the altar to give you some faux withered stare, and that's when you got to see the effects of your attention.

His cock stood proudly against his belly.

And as arousing as it was to know that he was hard for you, because of you, the mood was effectively ruined momentarily as you snorted, all sense of seduction gone.

"What?" Eddie chuckled along with you, clearly happy to see you smile. "What is it?"

You shook your head and stalked forward, finding the perfect seat upon his thighs as he leant back into the pillows.

"All of these...upgrades," you tsked. "And Vecna didn't touch your dick."

The chapel suddenly filled with laughter as the two of you shared in the absurdity of the moment.

"Can't mess with perfection sweetheart," Eddie winked at you, and you stuck your tongue out at him.

"Did you tell him that?" you teased. "Was that a formal request?"

"If I'm being honest, I don't even think he had a dick."

"Seriously?"

"He walked around naked. Never saw one."

"Huh."

"Yeah."

"Maybe that's why you're stuck here. You're not adhering to the uniform requirements of King of the Upside Down."

"Castration?" he asked.

"Nudity," you clarified.

"Is that a formal request from you now?" He licked along the seam of his lips and then grinned that unsettling, feral grin. "Because I can make it happen just for you, angel."

"I know you're joking but you forgot one thing," you leaned closer to him, stretching so your lips could brush his. "I like your cock."

You suddenly rivaled Eddie for speed as you denied him a kiss and shifted further down his body to take the head of his cock in your mouth, fingers squeezing the length of him, making him choke on the sudden and unexpected pleasure. The noises that he made as you devoured him were sinful, feral, guttural though, and you couldn't help but feel an arrogant sense of pride about it.

Great strategist that he was, he should have known better when it came to your escapades. Your seductress tricks, as he’d called them once.

You closed your eyes and savored the taste of him. The taste of his skin and sweat, remnants of whatever detergent or cologne that clung to his clothes...but conspicuously no musky taste of sex.

You considered, once again, the cleanliness of his body.

And the lack of water in the Upside Down.

And then that impossible tongue.

You hummed as you released him and then kissed down the side of his shaft so you could glance up at his face; he usually liked to watch but his eyes were wrenched shut, nose scrunched, as he panted. A clicking purr roiled somewhere deep in his chest.

"Naughty boy," you hummed and his eyes shot open. "Licking yourself clean like a cat."

You emphasized your accusation by running your tongue, flat, up his length. Then you flicked at the head once, twice, three times until he had the good sense to look bashful.

"W-what else w-was I supposed to do sweetheart?" That naive schoolboy routine wouldn't work on you. No silly crooked smiles while he sported so many razor-sharp fangs.

No puppy eyes, no innocent act.

Especially not when waves of guilt and desire emanated from him implicitly.

He knew exactly what he was and what he did.

Perv.

You snorted at him but went back to sucking the head of his cock; then, ready to make him beg, your teeth scraped ever so tantalizingly until his breath hitched. You let up to lave at him to relieve the slight sting...

"That's enough of that," Eddie hissed at you and pried you up and away from his cock, despite your whining protest.

You were underneath him before you knew it, and his teeth were buried in your shoulder, pad of his thumb working at your clit to pull an orgasm from you at the same rate that he pulled your life's essence from the bite.

The mixture of pleasure and pain boiled in your veins as you climbed higher and higher and you were sure that Eddie could taste it on you, because every hitch in your breath, every moan, was parroted right back at you from him.

A hiccup matched with a huff.

A soft yes followed by a delicious snarl.

And the moan that ripped from your throat as you came was answered with a roar as he released you from the bite and stretched to his full height, head tossed back towards the heavens, announcing his victory to whatever demon or deity dared to listen.

Your euphoria was short-lived though, as he positioned himself at your entrance and drove into you. He grabbed you and hunched over to press his forehead against yours and began thrusting wildly.

It was sweet for a moment.

But you weren't ready.

You weren't ready for his trusts, the raw power that he possessed in this body that he couldn't seem to control after his frenzied feeding, or the way he pistoned into you so roughly that your hips knocked yours in a way that would bruise.

You weren't ready for his talons to puncture your skin and the flesh of your torso, digging painfully deep into you, tearing through muscle and sinew and organs in an otherwise-devastating way.

You weren't ready for your own blood to drip from his fangs onto your own lips and into your mouth as you opened it in pain and shock.

You weren't ready and neither, it seemed, was Eddie.

It only took seconds of the rough uncontrolled fucking before instinct kicked in and you shouted. Your hands grabbed him and your body channeled the surrounding flames of the half-dead votives to burn deep into his skin and the meat of his shoulders.

He pulled out and away from you with a cry that echoed yours; his wings propelled him backwards and across the chapel instantly, where he crashed into the pews and crushed them.

There was a beat of tense silence, as you collected yourselves, and then you stared at each other in shock.

"What was that?" you asked in tandem.

You wrenched your eyes shut even further, brow furrowed in concentration, and dug deep to try and channel the healing energies within. The flesh of your sides and your palm began to knit back together, any bruising and internal injury healed instantaneously, and the bleeding of the bites sluggishly stopped.

But the bite wounds themselves remained, just as all of the bites you'd endured remained; healing at a glacial pace. And that worried you more than any of the injuries you'd sustained, or how they came about.

You took a few deep breaths and returned to the present, opening your eyes to find Eddie's concerned and guilt-ridden face before you. You startled, and so did he, but you shushed him as the apologies fell from his lips and bloody tears began to leak from his eyes.

"Sweetheart, please," he stammered. "I'm sorry, I didn't...I didn't know, I didn't realize."

"It's...it's ok," you nodded.

"It isn't," he shook his head. "I hurt you. I'm a beast, I'm a monster." His clawed hands came up and his fingers buried into his hair.

"Stop," you shushed him and grabbed his wrists to try and get him to let go. "Stop it. You're not."

"I am."

"You didn't know," you told him.

"I knew I could hurt you if I wasn't careful and I did it anyway."

"And I'm fine. I'll be fine. I'm made of tougher stuff. And you stopped; I was hurt and you stopped. A monster wouldn't stop when they hurt someone."

His chest heaved but he nodded and let you pull his hands away and into yours, held tenderly between you.

"You drank my blood Eddie," you reminded him. "Blood shed for the forgiveness of your sins. Now and forever. It'll be ok. We'll be ok."

Your gaze shifted from his eyes to his shoulders then, to the shape of your hands burned onto his skin.

"Besides I hurt you too," you muttered with a tense smile. "So I guess we're even here. Does it hurt?"

"It doesn't matter."

"It does."

"They'll heal; it doesn't matter."

"Do you know how to heal yourself?" you asked. "Or does it just happen?"

Eddie was silent.

"Let me heal you then," you told him softly. "It'll go much faster."

You held his clawed hands tightly in your smaller ones and instructed him to close his eyes. You felt a brief and sudden doubt; he wasn't human anymore, not entirely, would it be any different?

What if it didn't work?

If you were going to fix this momentary hiccup, if you were going to fix all of him, you at least needed to try.

"Do you feel me?" you asked him. "Do you...feel my presence here?"

"I do," he nodded, and then his mouth quirked in a smile. "Your light."

"Good," you nodded and shifted closer. You closed your eyes and reached out to feel him too. "Do you feel us together?"

"Hmmm, yeah."

"That means you can feel yourself. Shut up, I can hear you laughing."

"Means I'm not upset anymore," he argued.

He had a point, still you weren't going to let it go.

"When you resurrected..." you hesitated.

"My brides."

"I'm not calling them that." you scoffed. "When you resurrected Max...what did you feel? Did you feel her light? And yours?"

"I did." He snorted. "It was silly. I imagined a pitcher pouring into a cup."

"That's a good way to think about it," you encouraged him. "Healing is such...a special act of goodness, act of light and love. When you...resurrect someone, you take part of yourself and you use it to spark the light in them. It's like...jumpstarting your car though. All the parts need to work right if you're gonna bring someone back. Their body. Their soul. Otherwise...otherwise it's like they're driving around without a windshield."

"Like the Marquis."

"Focus Eddie."

"Sorry."

"To heal someone, like I'm about to do to you though...it's easier...and it isn't. You just...shine your light on them. It fills them, warms them. You share a part of yourself with them, like sharing a blanket. There's a hole in them--"

"I think there's a few holes."

"Alright you're fine then." You tried to pull away from him but he gripped your hands tighter and pulled you closer again, practically onto his lap. "You gonna interrupt me again?"

"No, I promise."

You loosened one hand from his grasp and, on instinct, laid it over the burned handprint on his shoulder.

"When you're hurt, there's a hole that needs to be patched up. And your body can heal in time, but sometimes it's easier for someone to pour their light into you."

Just like you had with Mary Victoria the previous day, you willed the light inside to stir, to pour into Eddie, and to heal the burns. You opened your eyes and released his shoulder, and the burn was gone, the skin pristine, save for the scars that had already been there.

"There," you announced with a smile. Eddie opened his eyes and stared at you. "How does it feel?"

He inhaled deeply.

"You..." his eyebrows knit together. "You feel...I still feel you."

"I'm sure. It'll linger for a while."

"But I feel that way whenever I'm with you," he continued. "I think I've always felt that way with you, even when you weren't next to me, when you left...when I was still alive. When I was still me. And when you...when you left the other day and you went back to Hawkins...I needed you...I was desperate for you."

"I thought you said I've always been there with you," you reminded him.

"This is different," he whispered as softly as he could, and it came out as a rasp. "I need you more than anything now. I feel like I'm empty. And I need you to fill me back up."

Your breath hitched as you thought about the weight of the Upside Down and the hollow feeling; was that what he felt too? And you lessened that feeling for him, just as he had done for you?

Yes. That must be it.

"I need you too Eddie," you agreed. "In whatever way, shape, or form I can get you. Man...or monster, I need you."

He leaned closer, pulled you closer too, pulled you to straddle his lap. He watched you, you assumed, to see if you would flinch or push him away. But you never pushed him away.

You let him take your lips with his, let him kiss you, let his claws rasp along your skin again, trace along the very spots that he had pierced. You let him maneuver you, drag your center along his length to get you both ready for this connection once again.

This union.

This promise.

Just like the promises you had made since he returned to you; like the promises you made since the moment you met.

He broke your kiss and looked to you for reassurance, for consent, before he pulled you onto him, before you moaned in tandem at the feeling of being joined together once again.

If there was something about Eddie, he was a quick study; the things that had hindered you just moments ago--the sharpness of his claws, the untethered power of his body, the strength of his wings--suddenly became tantamount to your fucking.

He anchored those claws deep into the sturdy softness of your thighs, no vital organs at risk; his long arms wrapped around you so you'd feel safe in his embrace despite the ever-present sting as he maneuvered you up and down his shaft at a steady pace.

When he grew bold, he used those wings to propel you both forward, back to the altar, to cradle you in the soft safety of the nested blanket and pillows. He used the strength that this body belied to drive himself home within you over and over, twisted and contorted his body to bring you to the height of your pleasure repeatedly.

All the while he vowed to give you his sweet devotion.

Words spoken in hushed tones and then desperate shouts and then world-altering roars as his teeth snapped just inches from your face.

But there was no danger, no fear, no doubt.

Only love and worship and reverence and awe.

And then the moment came where you and Eddie reached the peak of your bliss, and your bodies ceased to exist. The moment where, in one instance he stilled deep within you and you clenched around him, and then next your beings melted together in a whining, chittering, quivering mess of light and being and consciousness.

When you returned to the universe, renewed once again by the presence of one another, Eddie fed from you again, from your wrist this time. He didn't even have to ask; you hues knew. You sensed that need within him, a hunger you wished to satiate, and you urged him to take what he needed.

It was the gentlest that he had ever bitten you; you barely felt a thing. Until he pulled away and you saw the matching, gaping, red wounds of your wrist and his mouth.

You pulled him to lay against you, and you carded your fingers through his hair as he thanked you repeatedly, whispered and kissed his gratitude against the skin of your chest.

You realized, as sleep began to overcome you, that something was different now, and you wondered if you had even descended from the height of your climax yet. Or if you were still there in the afterglow.

And if you were, was Eddie still with you?

Then you had another thought.

Was this what being normal felt like? Was this the outcome of his forgiveness? Had he really broken the curse?

You closed your eyes and figured that you might never know, might never make it to Heaven.

But this moment here, with Eddie, was the closest you would ever get.

And it would be enough.

It was a dance.

Quite literally.

A dance with Eddie. Just you and him in this place deep and dark and hidden from the rest of the world.

Well alright, that was not quite the truth, not when there were thousands of glowing eyes and glinting claws and mouths dripping with hunger along the perimeter of the room. But it might as well be just the two of you; your love was enough to protect you. They didn't dare cross the veil of security while his hand held yours and you circled one another.

No music could be heard, no rhythm to speak of.

Just you and him. Jumping and head banging and twirling. He spun you, dipped you. Made a joke for you to dip him too, which caused you both to tumble to the ground in a fit of laughter.

Unadulterated joy.

You felt whole. Healed. Complete.

And you knew he felt the same.

This was where you belonged. Together.

"Let's try a waltz," he suggested.

"I don't know how to waltz, how do you know how to waltz," you laughed.

"PE, obviously. I can square dance too; you wanna do that instead?"

"No, no, show me how to waltz, Mr. Rochester."

"Gladly, my beloved Jane."

He did some wild and intricate bow, over exaggerated in the way only he could, and all the while you appreciate the sight. Full of life and energy and love, and it glowed from within him, practically illuminating the room.

He took your hand in his, grabbed your waist with the other, and led you with gentle instruction and encouragement. Once you had the steps down, he urged you to move, to spin, to traverse around the room, practically flaunting your invulnerability to the monsters that lay in wait on the outskirts.

Your combined laughter overwhelmed the clicking and hissing from beyond the dark veil.

"Alright, let's try this," Eddie instructed you with a chuckle. "I'm gonna dip you again."

"Oh Jesus ok, I'm not ready for that I don't think," you tried to dissuade him.

"You can't do any worse than Jeff did. Come on."

Unfortunately you did, your combined momentum from a spin was too much, and as Eddie went to dip you, you both fell in a soft pile of limbs and giggles and love. You rested your head back against the cold ground as Eddie rolled to the side, and when you opened your eyes you saw it.

A grand mirror, the frame of which was a dull and tarnished gold and layered in vines and slimey excrement. The edges of the reflective glass were scratched, but in the center, there you were.

The laughter and joy died in your throat as you stared at yourself, alone.

No monsters, surely, but no Eddie either.

You felt a familiar panic settle within you as your eyes darted back and forth around the reflection. A familiar hopelessness. And dread filled you because you knew, instinctually, that Eddie was still behind you...but was he?

"Sweetheart what's wrong?" Eddie questioned softly.

What if you turned around and you were alone again?

Lost again?

"Talk to me." You felt his hand on your shoulder, saw the indent of his touch in the reflection...but didn't see him. "What's going on?"

You wrenched your eyes shut as he fully grasped you by the shoulders and hovered over you.

"C'mon baby please," he sounded desperate. "What's wrong? Nothing's gonna happen. It'll be ok. I promised you, I'm here, it's gonna be alright. Trust me. Have faith in me."

Faith.

Was this a test of your faith? A test full of temptation? You taking the place of Orpheus as you sought safety in this underworld? And Eddie your Eurydice, continued existence hinging on that fragile string of faith?

But you knew deep in your heart, if you didn't have faith in anything else, you could have faith in him.

You slowly opened your eyes.

And witnessed a terrible sight.

Eddie, your Eddie, your soul and your salvation.

Broken.

Bleeding gashes on both sides of his neck, a slash on his wrist, a tear in the side of his shirt revealing a terrible wound, and lips that bubbled with blood.

"There you go," he muttered as though nothing was wrong. As though there were no droplets spattering onto your face as he spoke. "There's my girl."

You screamed.

"But if you bite and devour one another, watch out, or you will be consumed by one another.” - Galatians 5:1

Next Chapter: Chapter 7 - Exodus

[doomandgloomfromthetomb]

Shellac - 7th. Street Entry, Minneapolis, Minnesota, October 29, 1994

Guest post! This one comes from friend-of-the-blog Xopher Besinger — a loving tribute to Shellac of North America and the late/great Steve Albini ...

When Steve Albini passed away this past spring the underground music world lost a champion and a crucial resource, both technological and philosophical. But he wasn’t only an engineer, studio owner, and opinionated online presence Albini was also a singular guitar player and for the last 33 years member of the power trio Shellac along with Bob Weston of Volcano Suns and Todd Trainer from Rifle Sport & Brick Layer Cake. The band carved out a special niche, where Wire and Gang of Four overlapped with AC/DC, shearing away all unnecessary elements until the music was compressed down to a single razor blade guitar spinning off coruscating shards of metallic sound over a massive, unstoppable rhythm section and sometimes some yelling.

They made several studio albums, but Shellac was primarily a live band, part comedy act, part blistering noise unit, always conducting shows with the laid-back ease of a long running house band. Toward the end shows were as full of familiar bits and gags as much as new songs but this show, from October 1994 in front of a rowdy home turf crowd (c’mon everyone knows the 7th St Entry was their home) approaching Halloween the band is still very new, a couple of singles had appeared the year prior and the first full-length, At Action Park, came out that month but not everything had completely settled just yet, even the infamous Q & A sessions appear here in nascent form as Albini just fields specific questions about Montana.

This show probably isn’t a holy grail to anyone except for me, I remember seeing the show flyers up around Dinkytown when I was briefly attending the University of Minnesota, but I was still 18, not old enough and without a fake id. The sound is a bit rough on this audience tape, plenty of dance music bleeding in from the First Avenue main room next door (a normal hazard throughout the 90s) and drunken crowd chatter but the band is clearly in their element, teasing Minneapolis icons Morris Day & Arcwelder’s Bill Graber and battering the hell out of the songs. Albini has obviously been listening to the also recently released Jon Spencer Blues Explosion album Orange as he exhorts “blues explosion! number one blues singer!” several times. The setlist draws mainly from the singles & first LP but there are a few surprises, such as the mellow coda to “Rambler Song” from their split single with P.W. Long, an early version of “Disgrace” and of course “Spoke”, which was the normal closer in the early years but didn’t appear on an album until 2007.

As always there is a healthy amount of back-and-forth between the band and crowd and even amongst the band onstage, but Shellac always made it clear that those interactions were as much a part of the gig as anything. This holistic view might be one of the reasons the shows were so memorable, it wasn’t just a band playing music to an audience, the talking, the tuning up, the waiting for the show to start, the lines to the bathroom, the obnoxious people in the crowd, the songs you had never heard before, were all given equal weight as components to the experience. And that to me is what this recording captures, the full weight of seeing them, with all those other things included.

I am going to miss seeing them dismantle the hecklers, I am going to miss the way they could flip from goofy to visceral to transcendent in the matter of seconds, but more than anything I am going to miss that biting, clanging guitar at the start of “Billiard Player Song” cutting straight through everything. Everything. So, grab a cigar, a match, and people who don’t care if you smoke it and loudest speakers you can find. Requiescat!

[thegrinningghost]

LOTFTOBER, DAY 18 : Lyrics

Welp, I'm back, finishing off any prompts I have left or want to do even though October has technically already passed.

Oh well, doesn't matter much right? Lotf year-round!

Anyway, take some lyrics I've had sitting around in my head.

_

[Percival]

When I grow up

I will be tall enough to reach the branches

That I need to reach to climb the trees

You get to climb when you’re grown up

[Piggy]

And when I grow up

I will be smart enough to answer all

The questions that you need to know

The answers to, before your grown up

[Sam’nEric]

And when I grow up

I will eat sweets everyday on the way to work

And I will go to bed late every night

[All The Littluns, Piggy, + The Twins]

And I will wake up

When the sun comes up

And I will watch cartoons until my eyes go square

[The Choir + Ralph]

And I won’t care cause I’ll be all grown up

When I grow up

[The Choir]

When I grow up

[Ralph’s Tribe]

When I grow up

[The Littluns]

When I grow up

[Everyone]

I will be strong enough to carry all

The heavy things you have to haul around with you

When you’re a grown up

And when I grow up

[The Choir]

When I grow up

[Ralph’s Tribe + Littluns]

When I grow up

[Everyone]

I will be brave enough to fight the creatures

That you have to fight beneath the bed

Each night to be a grown up

And when I grow up (when I grow up)

I will have treats everyday

And I’ll play with things that mum pretends

That mums don’t think are fun

And I will wake up (I will wake up)

When the sun comes up

And I will spend all day just lying in the sun

And I won’t burn ‘cause I’ll be all grown up

When I grow up

[Ralph]

When I grow up

I will be brave enough to fight the creatures

That you have to fight beneath the bed

Each night to be a grown up

When I grow up

[Simon]

Just because you find that life’s not fair

It doesn’t mean that you just have to grin and bear it

If you always take it on the chin and wear it

Nothing will change

[Ralph]

When I grow up

[Simon]

Just because I find myself in this story

It doesn’t mean that everything is written for me

If I think the ending is fixed already

I might as well be saying

I think that it’s ok

[Everyone]

And that’s not right!

_

AU: Simon actually is a mystic, and at the constant pleading, hopes, and prayers of many like Jack, God finally sends him a message, albeit, perhaps not the one they hoped for

[Simon, Eyes Closed]

I am the prophet with the answers you seek

Time, I’ve unlocked it

I see past and future running free

There is a world where I help you get home

But that’s not a world I know

[Ralph]

What?

[Simon, Showing Ralph The Stars]

I see a song of past romance

I see the sacrifice of man

I see portrayals of betrayal *mimics Roger’s scary movement*

And a brother’s final stand

I see you on the brink of death *gestures towards Ralph*

I see you draw your final breath *gestures towards Jack*

I see a man who gets to make it home alive *to everyone*

But it’s no longer you *points to Roger on “you”*

[Ralph, Holding His Head]

This can’t be

We’ve suffered and [fought] through the toughest of hells

Now you tell us our effort’s for nothing?

[Simon]

I see [this island] covered in red

Faces of men who had long [wished you] dead

I see your [friend] with a man who is haunting

A man with a trail of bodies

[Ralph, Clutching Simon, Screaming]

Who?

[Simon, Shoving Ralph Off, Opening His Glowing Green Eyes]

I see a song of past romance

I see the sacrifice of man *gestures to Pig*

I see portrayals of betrayal *gestures towards most of Choir and some Littluns*

And a brother’s final stand

I see you one the brink of death *gestures to Ralph*

I see you draw your final breath *gestures to Jack*

I see a man who gets to make it home alive *points to everyone in the crowd*

But it’s no longer .  .  . you *lands on Ralph*

_

Idk how many of y'all have heard of Grace doing posting about making a Julias Caesar musical on Instagram, but it's really cool to follow and this is a WIP song she posted about that just reminded me of two boys I absolutely hold dear. Enjoy!

_

The night before Simon’s death, he’s sitting on the beach as the other boys drift off to sleep. Well, except for the hunters. He and Jack both seem to sense something in the upcoming day; something that strikes them with excitement and awe.

Simon explores this feeling as he treads along the beach while Jack stands upon a rocky cliff-face overlooking the beach, searching for the exact same thing .  .  .

[Simon]

There is a storm in the distance

I can see it

Creeping closer

Lightning strikes in an instant

And thunder shakes the sky

I’ve seen this before, you can’t escape it

Can’t delay it

No point racing rain clouds

The only choice is to brave it

Turn and face it

No running away now

The trees will tremble and fall [starts seeing visions]

The dark will cover the moon

The birds will send out a call [stops seeing visions]

Though the end isn’t soon

The fools in darkened rooms will pray

I don’t believe in all that

But on nights like these, I do

I do

[Jack]

There is no peace in this moment

Not on Earth [looking around]

[Simon + Jack]

Nor in the heavens [looking up at the sky]

[Jack]

But then, what’s one more opponent? [hits his spear against the rocks]

Even—

[Simon + Jack]

—Tempests have their endings

[Both]

I know the others are watching

Do they think I’m one to hide? [Simon glance at the shelters, Jack turns to look at the choir lazing about]

There is a hurricane deep inside me [Simon clutching his heart, Jack grinning]

That I cannot deny

They’ll say I’ve angered the gods [Simon scared, Jack angry]

They’ll jeer as I take the floor [Simon holding his head and pacing, Jack balancing along the edge of the cliff, staring at the shelters]

And they’ll say we’re the first,

But we’ve been here before [Simon looks up at the cliff-face, Jack looks down at the beach]

And in my fear, I’m drawn to pray

I can’t run from the fight

What am I here praying for? [Simon deflective, Jack remorseful]

[Jack, Same Time As Simon]

.  .  . a storm in the distance

I can see it

Lightning strikes in an instant

An answer I already

Know .  .  .

[Simon, Same Time As Jack]

I don’t see how this can end well

I can’t prophesize the fate of [home]

Tell me how, and tell me now

An answer I already

Know .  .  .

[wednesdaysraven]

phantoms of my former self.

synopsis: yoko recounts her life as a vampire to her best friends at a nightshade girls’ (+ thing) sleepover.

word count: 3,026

tags: headcanons ✶ fluff ✶ not proofread

warnings: mild violence, sa (mentioned)

┈─★ note: since quite literally nothing is known about yoko or her story, besides the fact that she’s an amateur mixologist (thanks divina), i’m taking complete creative liberty here! and since it’s been confirmed that naomi will not be coming back to reprise her role as yoko, it’s safe to say we might never get to know about her past. ┈─★ note: yoko is a canonical lesbian but lesbianism in the early 1900s? people would shit themselves. my headcanon is after yoko lived through the more acceptable years of history, she started to find herself, you know? ┈─★ note: i am a huge history buff so i like to try my best when using actual history in my fics!

“You know what I just realized?” Enid asked as she painted Thing’s index finger a pretty shade of lavender. “I don’t know anything Yoko’s past or how she became a vampire.”

Divina picked her head up so fast from her card game with Wednesday and glanced toward her girlfriend who was currently sitting on the floor, playing Call of Duty with Bianca. “Oh, let’s not get into that, I’m sure Yoko doesn’t—”

Yoko paused her game with Bianca and twisted around to face the group behind her on the bed. “It’s alright, Div. I guess it would be fine to tell you. I suppose if you’ve been around as long as I have, certain things just tend not to matter as much.”

Wednesday glanced up, “You don’t have to share with us if you don’t want to, Yoko.”

“I’m alright. Let’s do this.”

୨ৎ

My grandfather, Ahikito Tanaka was one of the most feared and most respected members of the Tanaka coven. He didn’t take anything from anyone. He did what he had to protect us which earned him lots of enemies. Those enemies cost him his life when he was killed by two normie men while on business in America. I never got to meet him, but I’ve heard all sorts of stories. My mother says we would have gotten along.

For years, the Tanakas were infamous for their power tactics on normies. Our motto is 美徳は行動にある, which means “virtue lies in action.” I was born on October 11th, 1898. My mother was physic and my father was a vampire. Growing up, I used to begged my father to let me go with on business trips to America, I wanted to travel the world someday. But of course, I was too young for it. Mother was turned in 1918.

So, when my father was away, I stayed with Mother who told me stories of how our coven came to be. We weren’t born vampires, we were turned. She would tell me how my father was turned. She would tell me about why my grandfather was so brave and forceful. He had wanted to protect his future grandchildren from what he had to endure. He didn’t want history to repeat itself.

Once, I was out by myself. I was eleven then and I had snuck away from my parents’ sight and went exploring the market. I wasn’t looking where I was going, causing me to bump into someone. I looked up at the boy who was reaching out for me to take his hand. He introduced himself as Kenzo. I smiled at him in response.

From then on, Kenzo and I were best friends. We were inseparable. Kenzo was apart of the Yamamoto coven, our rival coven. So our friendship was a shushed one, she snuck away from our parents to meet up in the market every Saturday morning at 9:30. We were each other’s safe place. We were each other’s home. We gossiped about school friends, our family, our siblings and everything inbetween.

After three years of friendship, we started to slowly fall for one another. Him first, then me. We were sitting behind a fruit cart in the market, eating stolen fruit when he turned to me, with a hurt expression on his sweet face.

“My family is moving to America in two days time.” He said, taking my hand in his and holding it. He wiped the tears falling from my face with his thumb. I couldn’t believe that my best friend was leaving me. I begged him to stay with me, to stay in Japan but we both knew that wouldn’t be possible.

So, in June 1912, Kenzo and the Yamamoto coven left Japan for America and I was alone. I was there to see him off, telling him that we should write letters to each other every day. We hugged and I kissed his cheek. I was alone for the next three years.

In September 1914, my family escaped to America during World War I. Japan entered the war in August of 1914. We had already lost three of my mortal brothers to the war and my mother didn’t want to lose anyone else.

Little did my mother know, not soon after setting there, I would be killed then turned. My father wanted the coven to settle in Jericho, Vermont. Back then, it was a sweet, little, cozy town where outcasts were welcomed. One sunny monday morning, Father told me to go into to pick something up for his and Mother’s wedding anniversary.

I made my way into town, taking my time. At this moment, we didn’t know a single word of English. But thankfully, the store owner, Miss Adaline Addams, had lived in Japan for a year before the war started. She knew some Japanese, to my happiness. I told her I was there to pick up something for my parents and she responded in my native language.

I left that little shop with a huge smile on my face.

That almost completely dissipated when I walked out. I was walking home and I was stopped by an older white man. You could say, I was intrigued by him? There was just something about him that drew me in and made me want to stop and speak to him. Even if I didn’t understand the language.

I was murdered in broad daylight by a stranger I had never met before. I was a native 16 year old girl from Japan during World War and I didn’t know the first thing about the American culture who didn’t speak the language.

The man charged at me. I bunched up my skirts so I wouldn’t trip as I ran as fast as I could. I prayed that I could get back to my home before my legs gave out. I made the mistake of checking behind to see where the name was. I stumbled over a rock, falling to the ground.

Before I could get up, I was tackled from behind. I glanced up to the man on top of me. He had a glittering silver knife in his hand, he raised it and all I remember was screaming and sobbing. I remembered begging him to spare me, to let me go.

Bracing myself for the immediate, immense pain I would endure any second, I prayed that I would be saved by a bystander. The man plunged the knife into my chest twelve times, repeating the action to my stomach an extra three. I was barely breathing when the man ran off as he heard footsteps coming.

I sucked in as many breaths as I could. My purple straw hat was lying next to my body. It must have flown off when I fell. My skirts were bunched to my hips with scratches and purple bruises all over my legs. I knew I didn’t have long but I couldn’t move due to the wounds on my chest and stomach.

Then I saw him.

Kenzo had found me. My life was fading. He gave me his blood to drink as the last of my lifesource left me. He held me in his lap, waiting for me to come back to him. It was hours until I stirred wake, gasping for breath. I felt around for something to ground me, to let me know I was alive. Well, in the vampire sense of the word. Kenzo walked me back to my home. I clinged to him the whole way. I still had blood on my dress and Kenzo had literal blood on his hands from trying to stop me from bleeding out.

My father flew open the door and ushered us inside. He knew something was different in me, my mother was positive I had just been killed and brought back by my best friend. She was, of course, correct. She was right about everything, she was a mother after all. Kenzo helped me to the sofa and demanded to know what had happened.

“I was stabbed 15 times. I was assaulted and abused. Kenzo found me on the brink of death and brought me back, for that I owe him for eternity.” I explained. Kenzo had placed the present that I had recieved from the store on the front table. I had forgotten I ever had that in my hand, due to my panic.

After that fateful day, my father trained me how to hunt and feed on mortals without getting caught. When he couldn’t, Kenzo did and we bonded. Got closer than we had been before he moved.

“Do you think we’ll win the war?” He asked one day after another fine hunt. I laced my fingers with his, pulling him towards my hip, looking at the ground.

“What do you speak of? Japan or America?”

“America, of course.”

“This is not my home. The Land of the Rising Sun is. How have you forgotten where you came from?” I asked, pulling away from me, reliving my hand from his grip. I was furious. He had lived here for three years and considered this is his forever home? How could he think that?

Now, at the time, I was very loyal to my mother country. I still am, to an extent. I lived most of my mortal life there, I loved it. I loved my life in Japan before the war.

1918. The United States had won the war. Japan experienced a period of economic growth due to its wartime industry, gaining new colonies in the Pacific from Germany, and securing a position as a major world power. As for America, the postwar years saw a wave of civil rights activism.

I was there when the 19th amendment was ratified on August 20th, 1920. I was out with my friends at the time, walking down the streets of Jericho. We were discussing if we thought the 19th Amendment would pass that night.

I thought it would be a beautiful thing for women to vote. All my friends were vampires as well. Clementine was the oldest of us. She was turned in 1765 when she was twenty-two. Amelie was 18, turned in 1901 and Juliette was 19, turned 1919.

That night, it was official. Women could vote in the US. But not all of us. The amendment excluded Black, Asian, and Native American women. Native American women weren’t able to vote until 1948. Asian women wouldn’t receive that right until 1952. Black women wouldn’t recieve it until 1965. So, I smiled and clapped as my friends recieve what they had been fighting for years.

Let’s skip all the way to my favorite part of my life, the 1970s. In 1972, Nixon was president at the time. The Watergate Scandal had just broken out to the public. His popularity was at a all time low. I, however, was having a fantastic time. David Bowie had just come out with ‘The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars’ the night before. I loved all of Bowie’s work, I wanted to see him in concert so bad. Juliette had bought 4 tickets for us because I wouldn’t shut up about him.

At the time, my family and I were in New York due to my dad’s work trip. My friends tagged along since that’s where we would go see Bowie. I got to a lot of famous people on tour since I’ve seen around for so long. I actually got to see Louis Armstrong on tour when he came to Vermont in the 1940s.

September 28th, 1972. Juliette, Clementine, Amelie and I all went to see Bowie’s concert in New York. I had a blast with my best friends. We went out to eat, we sang along, we danced. One of the highlights of my life.

1976, ABBA came out with Arrival and Queen with A Day at the Races. Another highlight of my life was seeing Freddie Mercury in concert as well as ABBA. This time I went with just Kenzo. He bought me dinner, as a surprise to tell me we were seeing Queen the next night.

The night of the concert, I put my hair into two loose braids with my sunglasses atop my head. I wore red lipstick, a Queen band t-shirt and flared jeans with a leather jacket. When we got to the area, I made a beeline for the merchandise stand and bought a poster and another shirt.

Kenzo and I danced together, we sang together. In the middle of Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy, Kenzo pulled me in for a kiss. I kissed back then pulled away. We stared at each other for a few moments before I pulled him in again. We laughed and put our foreheads together and hugged.

1989. President George H. W. Bush was inaugurated and the Berlin Wall fell after 28 years. Kenzo and I had been together for 13 years at this point.

You’re probably thinking, “13 years and no ring?” Well, for one we were permanently 16 years old and two, our parents would never allow it. And besides, we were fine with just dating.

We were sitting in the town square, facing the statue of Joseph Crackstone when I rested my head on his shoulder and interlaced our fingers. He was reading to me as I listened. I was content just lying there, hearing his voice.

“Yoko?” He asked, closing his book. I was in the middle of braiding a piece of my hair as I hummed in response. I was too preoccupied by my hair so I rolled off the bench when he told me the following.

“I think we should see other people.”

I started at him for a few moments before I pulled myself back up to sit back on the bench. “Why? Is it something I did?”

“What? No, Yoko. Of course not.” He told me, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear and pulling me into a cheek kiss. I turned away from him, crossing my arms.

He continued to talk, “I just...I feel like we’re been friends since 1909, that’s a long time. We need to take a break. We can still be friends, of course.”

“If you don’t like me, just say it.”

He just stared at me until I stood up, grabbed my bag and headed towards the flowershop next to Uriah’s Heap. “Nice knowing you, Kenzo. もしかしたら別の人生で.”

I never saw him again after that day. Last I heard of him, he had been killed by a normie on his way home in June of 1990. He was stabbed through the heart. He was 93 years old.

1991. I had been around for 93 years at this point. My father was away in Japan on business and my mother had went off to work. I was home alone.

Our new neighbors had moved in the morning before. They were a family of psychics. Their oldest daughter was named Francine and she was beautiful. She had red hair, brown eyes. And the cutest freckles across her nose and cheeks.

I was in love with her from the moment I saw her.

I was working at Uriah’s Heap when she came in with her friends, laughing and talking. They were wearing Nevermore uniforms. I hadn’t even heard of Nevermore at this point, despite it being around since the 1700s. I watched Francine from the counter as she looked around the clothes and other items in the store.

That night, I begged my parents to let me enroll. I knew we had the money due to my dad’s job. So, after hours and hours of pleading and begging, they let me go.

We met with Headmaster Nightstar the next morning. He could tell how badly I wanted to go to this school. He asked me to wait out in the hall while he spoke to my parents. I bounced on my heels, looking at the different art and plaques on the walls.

Then Francine bumped into me. I was completely enamored by this girl, so much so I literally forgot how to speak English and reverted to Japanese.

She looked at me like I had three heads. I blinked at her twice and laughed. Taking a deep breath, I stuck out my hand and introduced myself. “Yoko Tanaka. Vampire. I’m your neighbor.”

“Francine Lawrence, psychic. Nice to meet you.”

Francine and I were inseparable from then on. We went over to each other’s houses, we had sleepovers, we gossiped. We had fun. We were sitting in our shared dorm when she confessed that she had a crush on me. I immediately kissed her in response. We were together for eight years before she moved to New York with her family.

2024. I met some of the best people in my life who I wouldn’t trade for anything. I know these people wouldn’t leave me. We have a bond that no one can break and I love them with my heart. I went a bubbly pink werewolf, her goth girlfriend, a queen bee siren and an adorable, gorgeous girl who I fell in love with.

I have been on this earth for 126 years. People have come in and out of my life for different reasons. They all have taught me something. Never take this life for granted, do what you can when you can.

୨ৎ

Divina pressed a little kiss to her cheek before laying her head on Yoko’s shoulder. “We love you, Yoks.”

“I must say, your story was quite interesting.” Wednesday said, her hands fold in her lap as Enid ubbraided and rebraided her hair. “How many victims have you had over the years?”

Enid swatted her arm, “You can’t just ask that!”

“I never really fed on humans, more small animals when I could.”

“Pity.” Wednesday crossed her arms.

Bianca rolled her eyes, smiling as Thing finished he nail design. She fistbumped him and turned to her friends, “Who wants to watch a movie?”

Yoko scooted in with Divina as Bianca turned the movie on. She whispered, “I really love you, Div.”

“And I really love you, honey.”