#wow just about 12 months exactly

[beneathsilverstars]

ok i queued up copies of all my thoughts from twitter, plus enough fanart to alternate btwn textpost and reblog.... now i HAVE to go to bed

[ashwhowrites]

Drugs or me?

⚠️talks of drugs, alcohol, slight abusive scene, talks of smut

- Eddie has to pick between drugs or being there for his family

~~~

Eddie had a dream of being a rockstar, and it was a dream he planned to do anything for. He wasn't scared to leave anyone behind, he didn't have anyone. He didn't care to burn bridges because he would never cross the same one again.

He moved out to California and got a new band and a contract. He was a rising star. He had women chasing after him, begging to get in his pants and anything to taste his skin. He felt on top of the world.

What he didn't expect was to fall in love

~~~

She was just another fan in the crowd, singing along to the lyrics in her small skirt and tight top. Eddie couldn't keep his eyes off her. She was gorgeous and so alive.

Eddie usually picked a new girl each gig, sending his security to bring her into the back room so he can fuck her before he's back off to his apartment.

And that's exactly what he did.

The second she made it through his dressing room door, she was slammed against it, her skirt flipped up and his cock slammed into her.

Their loud moans filled the room, their skin smacking and the thud of the door.

But something felt different, he finished off in her mouth, her beautiful eyes staring up at him. It was like he didn't want to look away. She had him locked in. She cleaned off her mouth as she stood up. Watching him closely as he stared at her.

"Eddie?" She asked, snapping her fingers in his face.

He quickly snapped out of it, tucking his cock back in his tight jeans.

"what's your name, sweetheart?" He asked with a smile

~~

Five months later, his mind is still all about her. His eyes moved to the side of the stage where she now stood. Ever since that night, he hasn't touched another girl.

Once his hands touched her skin, he never desired to touch someone else again. Feeling her kiss and her hands in his hair. Nothing compared to it. She was different and he was fascinated by her.

He had a feeling she was keeping something from him though. He's never been to her house, she never spends the night, she can only go to shows on the weekends, and she always has phone calls during their dates. They aren't official so he feels like he can't question her, but he's worried he may not be the only one on her mind.

Eddie plays in the same run-down bar, moving around small towns close together. And when she can, she'll follow behind. There's something there that keeps her following him. That has to mean something right?

He knew he would never get answers if he didn't ask the questions.

That's how Eddie found himself looking down at a phone, a smiling boy with dark hair and green eyes looking back at him. A baseball cap on his head, some team logo designed on it, and a matching baseball uniform.

"You have a son?" Eddie asked, he had to be honest, her having a kid was not what he expected. Did he suspect a husband or another boyfriend, but a whole kid?

"Yeah. His name is Jake. He's 12 years old, I had him in high school. He loves baseball, it's practically his whole life. His dad taught him when he was a baby, and it's the only thing that keeps his dad around, sadly." she sighed, her eyes looking down at Jake, a small smile on her face as she shut off her phone.

"You just....wow...like...you don't look like you'd have a son. You're like....damn is it bad I'm turned on thinking about fucking a mom like she's a slut?" Eddie smirked, leaning closer, his nose bumping into hers.

"not a bad thing" she smirked back, her hand sliding up his thigh

~~

That's how it all started. Three years later Eddie found himself with a wedding band on his left hand, a son, and a baby girl. Jake was 15 years old, and their daughter, Aria was just about 9 months old. Their family was perfect. Eddie became Jake's stepdad, but to Jake, Eddie was more of a real dad than his biological dad ever was.

Eddie and Jake had a connection that Y/N has never seen between Jake and his birth dad. Jake only connects with his actual dad through baseball. But Jake and Eddie? There's music, guitar, songs, bands, drawings, and movies. Eddie may have only been around for a little over three years, but he showed Jake that loyalty and love don't come with time, it comes with the person.

Eddie was a girl's dad, as well. Aria looked just like him. Brown hair slowly growing, big brown eyes that always looked innocent. Y/N and Eddie both knew she'd grow up to have a huge personality.

But as their kids grew, so did Eddie's fame. More gigs, different states, and many hours in the studio.

Eddie believed family came first. He went to every baseball game, not caring if he was halfway through a song. He didn't care how far away the game was, he'd make it on time. And having an actual baby was different for Eddie. He got to take care of Jake after he was already half raised. But Aria? Eddie gets to raise her from the very beginning. And he wasn't going to miss a single thing.

Eddie doesn't care what hour it is, or if he has to be up within two hours, if he hears her crying he's flying through the nursery. He appreciates all the long hours his wife spends with her during the day when he's gone or the long nights when he's performing. If he's home, he's taking care of his whole family.

~~

Eddie grew up without a mother and a father, and he understood the pain Jake felt whenever his dad didn't show up. Eddie knew that no matter how many games he, Y/N, and Aria attended, Jake spent his bench time searching for his dad's face. Eddie understood Jake's dad would always be first, and Eddie didn't take any offense to that.

Eddie hated Jake's dad the second he met him. He was tall, and had dark hair, and green eyes. He looked exactly like Jake, but the personalities were total opposites. Jake was caring kind, and all the things his mom was. Jake's dad, Liam, was an asshole, selfish, and full of himself.

Liam disrespected Y/N whenever he had the chance. Eddie couldn't stand it but tried to keep his cool in front of Jake. Whenever Liam would pick Jake up for his weekend, he'd size up Eddie, roll his eyes, and walk out.

The bad blood between Liam and Y/N was always noticeable. The two couldn't be in the same room for even a minute before a screaming match would begin. After one huge blowout, Eddie sat her down and asked what happened between the two.

Eddie learned that she and Liam were never married, just teenagers that got pregnant, and both decided they'd keep the baby. Liam convinced her he'd always be there to help with Jake, help raise him and love him as a dad would. And at first, he did. The two were in love and raised their son together. But Liam went off to college and got caught up in alcohol. Y/N was fine with the alcohol and partying on the weekends. She worked a small waitress job to earn money. Her parents helped with anything they could. Jake was going to get a big corporate job and bring home lots of money once he graduated.

But then Liam got a taste of drugs. He stopped attending classes, spending nights snorting little white lines and passing out for hours. Sneaking into the bathrooms to stick needles in his arms. He stopped being a student, he stopped being her boyfriend, and he stopped being a dad.

~~

Y/N loved that Eddie was blowing up, but fear settled in her stomach. Being a rockstar meant attending parties. She trusted Eddie, him cheating never crossed her mind, that's not what kept her up at night. It was knowing he was going to be surrounded by the same alcohol and drugs Liam was sucked in by. She knows Eddie is different, he isn't a stupid teenager, he's an adult with a real family. She tried to convince herself Eddie wouldn't get sucked in as Liam did.

But then Eddie got to open up for a huge rock band, a band the whole world knew. And it was a huge opportunity for Eddie. She was so proud of him and knew how this would make his career. But that fear was building up.

~~~

Saying goodbye to his family was just as hard as he expected. Jake tried to keep it together but let a few tears slip once Eddie pulled him in for a hug.

"just a few months, okay? Then I'll be back. And don't worry, we have some off dates and I'll be there for those games. I promise." Eddie said softly, kissing Jake's forehead.

Jake already had one dad that didn't show up to anything, Eddie wasn't going to make it two.

"I went ahead and circled all the games on your days off. You don't have to show up but I think it would be cool if you came." Jake said with a shy smile. Passing Eddie the piece of paper.

"I think it would be cool too." Eddie winked. Giving Jake a final hug.

Then he moved to his girls. He grabbed Aria from Y/N's arms, kissing the small girl all over her face. Closing his eyes as he takes in her giggles. Her chubby hands yank on his long hair.

"Don't grow up too fast, okay?" Eddie blinked away his tears and kissed her button nose. Taking a deep breath he passed her over to Jake.

Pulling himself together as he looked over at his wife. She was sobbing into her hands, refusing to look at him.

"hey, I'm always a call away, whenever you need me. I'm going to be there." He promised, moving her hands away from her face, and kissing her wet cheeks. Pulling her into his arms.

"I know. I just hate knowing you won't be here" she sobbed

"I know, but I'm coming straight home on my off days. I'm going to be here for Aria's birthday, I'm coming home for our anniversary. I'm coming home any second I can. My family will always come first. Whenever you need me, I'll be on a plane and be here." Eddie promised, kissing her head as he rubbed her back.

Eddie promised a lot of things that day.

~~

Eddie's been on the road for around two months, he may be physically away from his family, but he was still there for them as much as he could. He listened to his wife's rants every night, the least he could do since she volunteered to stay up until his gigs were done. She'd ask about the show, ask what songs he played, and how the crowd interacted with him. Then they'd move on to her day, her stress of work, Aria needed more attention than usual with both parents busy and Jake's baseball. Jake would call after school, a quick chat before his practice, then he'd call again once he was back home. Generally enough time before Eddie had to take the stage.

The family made it work the best they could. With a missed call every once and a while, but that was out of their control.

Aria's birthday was a month away, Jake's first baseball game of the season was two months away, and their anniversary was three months away. All events Eddie promised he'd be back home for.

~~~

Eddie missed his family a lot, and he felt like he could handle being on his own again. But now that he had the taste of a real family, he's been dying through withdrawals. He spent hours before the show calling and texting. And spent hours after the show trying to sleep away his loneliness.

He had his band, and the tour crew, but he felt so alone.

One of the singers from the rock band he was opening, Blake, invited him to a big party. Eddie wanted to pass but Blake insisted he goes, he promised to show Eddie how to handle being away from loved ones.

Eddie didn't know "handling it" was by slamming drinks, strip clubs, and little white lines smeared across a bathroom sink.

He wasn't aware of the damage that was heading his way. The new addiction that his body would be craving.

~~~

The phone calls were going unanswered. Eddie's red eyes see his wife's face pop up, he watched it ring and ring until it sent her to voicemail. Another unopened text followed behind.

Y/N had no idea what changed on Eddie's side. All of a sudden her text and calls were being ignored. As more days passed he slowly stopped reaching out and answering.

Y/N didn't know what to tell Jake, she could tell he was upset that Eddie was pulling away. And she was growing mad that she couldn't reach Eddie to even talk about what the problem was.

But she had other things to focus on, things like Aria's birthday. Which happened to be in just a few days.

~~~

It was the morning of Aria's birthday and not a word from Eddie in over a week. Eddie doesn't believe in social media so it's not like she could find out what he was doing.

Y/N spent the morning getting the party put together and decorating the house. Her friends and family arrived earlier to help set up all the food. With her mom handling Aria, Y/N sneaked off to her bedroom, finally having enough of Eddie's silence, she called his manager.

"Hi, this is Y/N, I was just wondering if Eddie was around. I haven't been able to contact him lately and he's supposed to be coming home today." Y/N explained, anxiously biting at her nails as she paced in the bedroom.

"Yeah, let me grab him for you."

~~~

Eddie's head was pounding, he was in his dark hotel room and yet everything seemed too bright. His phone was ringing nonstop and had been for weeks. He knew who was calling and he wasn't man enough to answer. The second he felt the drugs in his system he knew he fucked up. And the more he craved the white lines, the more he was destroying his family.

When he was sober, he bathed in his guilt. But when he was on drugs, he didn't feel a thing. Eddie made the selfish decision that feeling nothing was better than feeling guilty.

"Yo, Munson! Phone." Lance said, using the key to walk into the hotel room. Turning on the light as he threw the phone on Eddie's lap.

Eddie groaned and grabbed the phone. Yawning as he said hello to the speaker.

"Edward Munson, where the fuck are you?" Y/N spat, she didn't bother to waste time being nice or allowing herself to miss him. It was their daughter's birthday and he was supposed to be home last night.

"Hello to you too." Eddie groaned, sitting up as his eyes adjusted to the light in his room.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Hello to my husband whom I haven't heard from in over a week. How are you? Sleeping well? Glad we got caught up. Now when the fuck are you coming home?" She snapped

Eddie felt himself growing irritated at her aggressiveness, he felt like shit and a fight was not how he wanted to deal with his headache.

"I'm coming home in like a month like we talked about?" Eddie questioned

"Yeah! That was last month! Do you even know what day it is?" She asked, Eddie could imagine she was burning holes in the floor as she paced back and forth

"A Saturday morning? Did someone's period arrive or something? You are acting like a bitch, Jesus Christ " Eddie snapped back, crawling out of bed as he walked to the bathroom. He needed cold water on his face and down his throat.

"A bitch? Oh you are such a selfish prick. No, my period didn't arrive. I am pissed off because it's our daughter's birthday and you don't seem to give a shit. You were supposed to be here last night. But of course, you don't answer your fucking phone so I've been shooting in the dark with what the hell you have been doing. The party is at 4, either be here or don't."

Before Eddie could respond he heard the line die. Eddie took in the silence, looking at himself in the mirror. His tired eyes, his pale skin, his knotted hair, and the bags under his eyes. He looked as horrible as he felt. He splashed the cold water on his face. Taking a deep breath as he looked on the counter for a towel. He grabbed the towel and cleaned off his face, his eyes caught the remainder of leftover drugs from the night before.

He had two options, to get out of the bathroom and go home to his family. Beg for forgiveness and admit his mistakes.

Or

Keep running

~~~

"He's not coming is he?" Jake asked, helping Y/N clean up the party.

"I think something came up. But I'm sure he'll be here for your first game. He wouldn't miss it." She said, kissing Jake's forehead and sending him off to his room.

Once she heard his bedroom door close, she allowed herself to cry.

Jake opened his door, watching her through the crack. Her shoulders were shaking as she scrubbed the dishes. He could hear sniffles and her taking deep breaths.

She was trying to collect herself. Jake hated the way she looked so alone during the whole party. Her eyes watched the front door and her phone never left her hand.

One promise out the window.

~~~

"Okay so here's your water bottle, snack, and your spare bat." Y/N listed as she handed Jake all his materials. Aria giggled in the stroller next to them.

"any word from dad?" Jake asked

"You know him, he'll show up if he wants to," she said, rolling her eyes

"And Eddie?" Jake asked, he honestly didn't care if his dad came or not. It was Eddie he wanted here.

"I'll give him a call, go warm up," she said with a smile, kissing his head and watching him run to the field.

Jake watched over his shoulder as she called him, her arms waving in the air as she paced. He watched her shoulders drop, throwing her phone in her purse, and wiping her eyes.

Jake offered a smile when she made eye contact with him, a small shake of her head and sad smile told him neither dad would be attending his first game.

Another promise left behind

~~~

Eddie was falling deeper and deeper. He knew was fucking up but a part of him didn't care. It was easy to run when he was on the road and didn't have to face his family in the eyes. He could run from the phone calls and the texts.

He called Jake the night of his first game and apologized that he couldn't make it. Eddie could feel that Jake didn't accept his apology or care. Jake said goodnight and hung up. The call was barely two minutes long.

Eddie was losing his family and he couldn't pull himself together to face the consequences.

~~~

Y/N didn't bother with their anniversary, she gave up on calling and texting. She didn't want to hear his lies and whatever bullshit excuse he would give her.

She's been treated like shit before and she wasn't going to sit back and take it. He made promises and he broke all of them. She knew he wasn't going to show up for their anniversary, he wasn't going to show up for anything.

~~~

The tour ended and Eddie knew he had to look his wife in the eyes and confess everything he has done. She deserved an explanation and he knew he needed to ask for help.

But once he knocked on his front door, he couldn't do it. He didn't have a connection to drugs anymore, maybe he could get clean being home and she didn't have to know.

When she opened the door, he felt every emotion hit him. She looked gorgeous. She was holding Aria, who screamed with joy once she saw Eddie. Reaching her small arms out, Eddie smiled and grabbed her easily. Hugging the small girl and hiding his face in her hair. Taking a second to hide from what was going to come.

Y/N was still pissed, no doubt. She was ready to give Eddie a piece of her mind, scream at the top of her lungs, and demand answers. But a small part of her was happy to have him home. The sight of him holding their daughter reminded her just how much she loved him.

"Hi mama" he smiled shyly, placing Aria on the floor as she raced to grab a toy. Eddie held open his arms, a part of him scared that she wouldn't embrace him. Just roll her eyes and turn around.

"Hi" she said softly, allowing herself to be weak as she let herself melt in his arms. She smiled as he took in his scent, he smelt like him. He felt like him, but his eyes didn't look like him. His body felt thinner and he sniffled a lot. She pulled back, locking on his face as she took him in.

"EDDIE!" Jake cheered, racing to the front door. Y/N stepped back to let Jake embrace him. Jake had his reasons to also be pissed at Eddie, but having him home was all he's been waiting for.

"Hi, bud!" Eddie smiled, holding the kid tight. Eddie felt even more guilty. He had his beautiful family waiting for him to return home, and he acted like they didn't exist.

~~~

Y/N ran out to get dinner, and the family agreed on pizza. While she was out, Eddie began to unpack. Jake by his side helping him dig through his suitcase. The boys talked about the tour, the shows, and the experience. Jake didn't want to ask why Eddie was distant, he didn't want to ruin the excitement he felt having one of his dads around.

As they got to the bottom of the suitcase, Jake spotted a little bag, filled with white powder and a note taped on it.

"Um, Eddie? What's this?" Jake questioned, he held up the bag, watching as Eddie's eyes widened in horror.

"Fuck" Eddie spat, quickly snatching the bag from Jake. Turning around so his back was to the kid. Eddie felt sick to his stomach, he didn't pack any drugs with him, he needed a clean break.

"Rockstars can still feel good at home"

The words on the bag haunted Eddie, Blake must have snuck it in Eddie's suitcase when he wasn't paying attention. Eddie put the bag in his pocket, turning around to face Jake with a worried smile.

"Nothing, don't worry about it." Eddie said quickly.

But Jake knew, he wasn't stupid.

"That's why you got distant, isn't it?" Jake questioned, crossing his arms as he glared up at Eddie.

"It's nothing" Eddie tried to brush him off, throwing the suitcase back in the closet.

"You have to tell her." Jake said

"Jake, it's done and she doesn't need to know." Eddie tried to explain

"That's what he always said." Jake spat, rolling his eyes as he turned to walk out of the bedroom.

"Hey! I'm nothing like him" Eddie argued, following behind Jake.

"YES, YOU ARE! You are selfish and only think for yourself. If it's done then dump it out and flush it." Jake demanded. Walking towards the bathroom, holding open the toilet for Eddie.

Eddie froze, looking between Jake and the toilet. The bag resting in his pocket.

"If it's done, then throw it out" Jake repeated.

But Eddie couldn't move. His feet felt like they were glued to the floor.

Jake could feel the anger building, racing to Eddie and digging in his pocket. Eddie tried to fight Jake off but Jake ended up with the bag in his hands.

Jake yanked open the bag and dumped it in the toilet. Eddie's vision went red. Screaming as he shoved Jake away from the toilet.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?" Eddie screamed

"MOM DOESN'T DESERVE THIS. YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE DIFFERENT! I ALREADY HAVE ONE DAD THAT PICKS DRUGS OVER ME, ARIA DOESN'T DESERVE A DAD LIKE THAT EITHER" Jake screamed back.

Jake couldn't even recognize who he was looking at. Eddie's eyes were wild, his breathing was heavy, and his body was shaking.

Eddie felt rage take over him, slamming Jake against the wall, holding his shirt in both fists. Staring down at the boy. Jake gulped, no matter how many times his dad got pissed he never touched him. And Jake never thought Eddie would land a hand on him.

Before either boy could speak, Y/N's panicked voice rang through the silence

"GET OFF OF HIM!" Eddie felt his body being yanked off and shoved to the other side of the bathroom.

Y/N caught Jake as he fell to the floor, once he caught his breath he began to sob. Y/N quickly wrapped her arms around him. Looking over at Eddie.

"what the fuck is wrong with you?" She spat. Eddie was never violent. And seeing him shoving her son against a wall was not something she ever thought she'd see.

"I, um, I'm sorry" Eddie whispered, it was like all his rage left and he was in control of his body again. His eyes watched as Jake sobbed, refusing to look anywhere but at his mom. The scared look in Y/N's eyes.

He watched in fear as she looked towards the toilet, her eyebrows scrunching as she took in the powder floating.

Once her eyes found Eddie's, he knew she knew.

She whispered into Jake's ear. He nodded as he wiped his face, walked out, grabbed Aria, and raced to his bedroom.

Y/N stood up, flushing the toilet, and slamming down the lid as she looked over at Eddie.

"Get the fuck out" she spat, pushing his hard body out of the bathroom. She raced past him, grabbing his suitcase from the closet once again.

"Let's talk about this!" Eddie panicked, trying to take the suitcase out of her hands.

"TALK? YOU PUT YOUR HANDS ON MY FUCKING SON" she screamed

"I'M SORRY! I know! I don't know what came over me and I just..." He didn't have the words. He put his hands on his son and that would never be justified by anything.

"ON DRUGS? YOU ARE ON FUCKING DRUGS, EDDIE" she screamed, throwing his clothes into the suitcase, shoving as much as she could.

"I'M SORRY. IT WAS A MISTAKE. I MISSED THE FAMILY AND BLAKE SAID HE HAD SOMETHING TO HELP. I JUST GOT LOST!" Eddie screamed. This was the consequence he was terrified to face

"I don't give a shit about sorry, I don't give a shit if you missed us and I don't give a shit about your excuse. If you missed us, you should have answered the phone, you should have been here when you promised. Maybe in some way, I could have forgiven it, but the second you put your hands on Jake was the second you crossed the fucking line. You don't ever touch my children and you don't ever come near them again" She wasn't shouting anymore and that's what scared him. Her tone was aggressive, mean, and cold. She shoved the suitcase against his chest, walked towards the front door, and yanked it open.

"What does this mean?" Eddie panicked, walking closer to her, but she nodded towards the door.

Eddie walked out the door, standing at the entrance, tears in his eyes as he looked her over.

"It means get yourself a lawyer" she spat, slamming the door.

~~~

There's part 1! I hope you enjoyed it <3

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @slightlyvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergent @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila

[daydreams-after-dark]

What's your fanfic fantasy? part 5

Chapter Contents.

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // Parts 10 // Part 11 // Part 12 // Part 13 // Part 14 //

Chapter Summary: You and Minho chat after Chan leaves the room. You find out why Minho agreed to fulfilling your fantasy, and you instigate some roleplay.

Premise: OFC + Chan + Jisung 18+ fanfic. This is an AU story about Chan bringing your fantasies to life... but what happens when boyfriends Chan and Han fall in love with you?

Warnings: anal fingering, anal sex, role play, blindfolds, coming inside, fantasy play, comfort.

“Do you think Chan’s okay?” you ask as Minho nestles into the bed resting his head on his hands. He looks up at the ceiling and sighs.

“He did seem weird.” He agrees. “But I’m sure he’ll be fine. Jisung will look after him.' His tone is reassuring.

You slide down alongside him propping yourself up on an elbow to gaze at him. “I suppose so.”

You can’t help but feel concerned. Chan’s behaviour had been so odd, and you worry that you’re to blame. What if you’ve freaked him out somehow? But Minho’s right, Jisung would be with him now. He knows Chan more than anyone. He’ll know what he needs in this moment. Right? Right? You’re not entirely convinced.

“W-was this okay?” Minho asks with a hesitant voice, breaking your thoughts.

You look at him excitedly. “Yeah!” You grin like an idiot. “I don’t know where you learnt to be so…. skilled.” you smirk.

“So it was satisfactory then?” he searches your face.

Oh dear God what kind of question is that? Satisfactory? It was fucking perfect. Minho was perfect. You can’t fathom why he is feeling so insecure.

“I hope you didn’t mind me asking to take the blindfold off?” he adds. He watches your face carefully for your reaction.

“No, of course not.” You rest your hand on his muscular chest hoping to reassure him. “I actually thought it was endearing.” You circle his nipple with a finger.

“Really?” he says, sounding surprised.

You lean your head on his chest and he wraps an arm around you, and you snuggle in. “Mmm. It made my heart feel like it was going to pound of my chest, and… and actually,” you hesitate to continue, “I was really glad it was you.”

Minho beams at you.

“So what made you want to take it off?” you ask.

Minho takes a moment to consider his answer. “It just felt… right. Like the right thing to do. I thought I’d be okay with leaving it on…but… I needed to see your eyes.” He smiles sheepishly. “Is that cheesy?”

He is literally the sweetest man alive. “Nah.. Not cheesy.” you smile.

“You don’t think I’m…like… weird do you? With this fucking a stranger fantasy?” you sucked your bottom lip into your mouth.

Minho chuckles and squeezes your arm. “Nah, everyone’s got fantasies.” He hums.

You rub your thumb over his nipple and he shudders. “So how did Chan approach you about - this?” you're curious to know. It’s not something you go around proposing to people on a daily basis. Well apart from this week it seems.

“Hmmm. Well I can only imagine he didn’t ask Jisung because he can’t stay quiet, and you’ve fucked him already.” He explains like it’s common knowledge. “Then Felix has someone.” He adds, ruling him out too.

You fling your head up in excitement “Wait. What? Since when? Wow! About time. He's such a nice guy!” You gush. Felix has someone? You make a mental note to poke him about it tomorrow.

“Yeah, didn’t you know? He’s got a girlfriend now. I think they’ve been together for a few months.”

You rest your head back down. Fuck.

“Then there’s Binnie.” Minho continues his deductions. “I don’t think Chan asked him because Bin would hate you to confuse him with someone else. He’d be livid. He wants you to know exactly who’s fucking you. He wants you to see exactly what he’s doing to you. Plus- ”

“HIS HANDS!” You both exclaim and burst into laughter.

“Have you seen how rough they are? You’d guess it was him the minute he touched you.” Minho shivers with disgust like he’s imagining Binnie’s filthy hands on him. Minho doesn’t like rough hands then?

Binnie does sound interesting, and you wonder what it would be like to experience him.

“So you were what was left then?” you tease.

"Yah!" he pinches your arm playfully. “I was the best person for the job. I ticked all the boxes. Quiet. Careful. Diligent. Mysterious”. You gaze at him. He is right. He was the best person for the job.

“Hmm. So did Chan just come up to you and ask directly, or?” you push. You are so curious, you can't leave the subject alone.

“Pretty much, yeah. He explained the situation, asked if I would want to do it. And I said yes… obvs.” He shrugs like he does this kind of favour all the time.

“And why did you say yes?” you press.

Minho hesitates and wriggles to adjust his position. Maybe you overstepped with that question? “I… I wanted to take my mind off someone.” He sighs.

“Oh.” You go quiet and wonder if you should ask him more, or just leave it. You continue to caress Minho’s chest and stomach while silence fills the room.

“You know how I do dance performance?” he asks eventually, breaking the silence.

That’s right, when he’s not performing for the band he dances. He is a wonderful, powerful, strong dancer. You take in his physique. Mmm, definitely a dancer’s body.

“Well there’s this guy. His name is Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin. You say the name in your head trying it out.

“You like this Hyunjin?” you ask softly.

“Fuck do I like him, kitten!” he wails. “He is the most beautiful creature you’ve ever seen. He’s elegant but strong.” He sighs again as he describes him. “The way he moves it’s art… and his lips… Oh y/n, they’re the most plush lips I’ve ever seen. He’s perfect. Long hair, long fingers, long -”

“Long dick?” you poke and look up at his face, but he looks defeated.

“I… I wouldn’t know.” He says solemnly.

“Have you told him how you feel?” you ask.

“No… But there was this one night. After practice. Everyone else had gone home and I stayed back to work on a routine. I thought I was alone, but Hyunjin was there…watching me. He came out of the shadows and began dancing too.

I know it sounds silly, and like nothing, but it felt so intimate.

We practiced for hours until we were exhausted and I collapsed on the floor out of breath.” He pauses for a moment, wrapping his arm tighter around you. You in turn, wrap your arm around his torso in a hug.

“Hyunjin laid on the floor next to me. We were both just laying on our backs trying to catch our breath. Fuck his breathing is beautiful too. Then I felt his fingertips touch mine. I thought it was an accident at first. Until his fingers interlaced with mine."

"What did you do?" you whispered, hanging on every word of his story.

"I didn’t know what the fuck to do. So I just laid there. Then… Then Hyunjin... He slid closer to me and leaned over me.”

You can hear the longing in Minho’s voice as he tells his story.

“He was looking into my soul, y/n. I was mesmerized. Frozen still. I could’ve sworn he was going to kiss me, but…”

“But what?” you whisper.

“We heard a noise outside in the corridor. Someone had come back to the studio to collect something they left. Hyunjin was startled and he left. Just got up and left. Without a word. Then that was it.” He finishes his story and goes quiet.

Wow. You don’t know what to say. Poor Minho. Poor Minho’s heart.

“So were you able to take your mind off him tonight?” You try to lighten the mood.

“Does it sound like it?” he huffs, then laughs. “Actually for a little while yes. Thank you.” He says sincerely.

You lean back up on your elbows and scan the room, wondering whether you are meant to go back to your own room or stay here. Your eyes rest on the blindfold. You have an idea. A devious part of you springs into action.

“Minho?” you ask.

“Hmm hmm?” he responds lazily.

“I’m going to blindfold you. Is that okay?”

He looks at you suspiciously, narrowing his eyes. “Yeah.” He replies slowly, unsure about what you're doing.

You reach across his body to grab the blindfold, your breasts practically smacking him in the face as you do. “Just trust me.” you say as you place the blindfold over Minho’s eyes and secure it at the back.

“If you don’t like it I promise I’ll stop.” you reassure him. Minho lays there compliantly. He’s such a good boy.

“So,” You begin slowly running your finger down his chest and abdomen. “You have fantasies about this Hyunjin do you?”

“All the time.” Minho answers without hesitation.

“Do you imagine Hyunjin kissing your body?” you ask.

“Y-yes” replies Minho.

You kiss his chest delicately. His muscles tense. You kiss him again this time on his stomach, gently exploring the dips of his muscles with your lips. Minho’s breath starts to falter.

“Do you imagine Hyunjin touching your cock?” You whisper as you make your way down down down to Minho’s partially hard cock. You take it in your hand. For the first time that night. Well the first time ever, really. But you don’t plan to be y/n right now.

“Yes” he whispers back and swallows hard.

“Does he stroke you like this?” You slowly and gently stroke up and down his shaft. He moans softly. “Yes. Yes he does.” he manages to respond.

You watch his breathing become laboured and soft little moans start to fall from his lips as you stroke his cock.

“You know Minho,” you remove your hand from him and he whimpers at the suddenness of you letting it go.

“Hyunjin wants to suck your cock.” You say in a low tone. “Will you let him? Would you like him to?”

Minho nods vigorously. “Yes! Yes.. Please”. His cock twitches as he begs for Hyunjin’s mouth.

You position yourself between Minho’s legs and take hold of his cock again. How would Hyunjin give head? You have no idea. Minho isn’t fully hard yet, so sink your mouth down over him, taking him all in your mouth.

Minho moans in approval as you continue to gently suck and pull his cock with you mouth until he is rock hard.

“Hyunjin likes having your cock in his mouth.” You hum. “He looks so good sucking you off like this.” you do your very best to give Minho the best blow job of his life - as Hyunjin not as y/n.

Minho starts to breath faster. This is exciting for him. you want to keep playing this game. You want to please him.

You circle your tongue around Minho’s tip, tasting his pre-cum, before sinking back down the shaft.

“Oh fuck! This feels so good, Hyun - ”

“That’s right, Minho. Hyunjin is doing so well isn’t he?” you purr between motions.

Minho seems to be in his own world, he’s actually imagining you as Hyunjin. If you're honest it’s turning you on.

“Mmmm...aaah” he's getting noisy, which is a far cry from earlier on when he was so conscientiousness, diligent and so silent for most of it. You're loving watching Minho let go, lose control.

He whines and whimpers and begs for Hyunjin to keep going. You can see he is starting to come undone as he cries for Hyunjin to take him to the stars.

You want Hyunjin to please him.

You slip your mouth off of his cock and reach for the coconut oil. Minho cries out as though he’s been abandoned. “Hyunjin… please.”

“Minho?” You say timidly. “Hyunjin wants to ride your cock. Would that be okay?”

Minho tenses up at those words and hisses through his teeth. “P-please-" is all he can muster.

“Can he? You need to say it Minho.” You urge firmly.

“Please.. Hyunjin.. Fuck.. I need to be inside you.”

“Okay… it’s okay, Minho. Hyunjin will sort you out. He wants to take care of you.”

Minho sounds like he’s on the verge of tears, and you think he is going to come at just the thought of being ridden by Hyunjin.

“Minho? Hyunjin needs you to help stretch him open. Can you help him get ready so he take your cock?” You shimmy back to Minho’s side poking your ass towards him. You take his hand and pour some oil in it and direct his fingers to your ass.

Minho begins to press on and circle your asshole, much like he did earlier that night, and it doesn’t take him long to be working two fingers in and out of you. It’s hard to stay quiet but you don’t let your moans escape. You don’t want to distract Minho from his fantasy.

“That’s it, Minho.” you say. Fuck, his fingers feel so good that you rock back on his hands. You take his cock back in your hand and resume stroking it while you're being fingered.

“Hyunjin needs just one more finger.” you pant. It’s getting hard to suppress the sounds of pleasure.

Minho works another finger into you, stretching you open. You already feel so full like you're going to be torn in two, how are you going to fit his dick inside?

An orgasm approaches. Not yet, you tell yourself. “Hyunjin is ready for your cock now.” you announce.

Minho removes his fingers leaving you feeling empty. Hyunjin's going to be a lucky man if he ever experiences what Minho can do with his fingers.

You straddle Minho and pour a generous amount of oil over his cock. You hover over him, and holding his cock behind you, you guide him to your entrance. You haven’t had anal in a long time and you hope you can do this as gracefully as you want to. You want Minho to really feel like it's Hyunjin he's fucking.

Minho’s cock presses against your rim as you begin to sink yourself down onto it. The tip slips in fairly easily. There’s not a lot of resistance. You've really slicked up his cock, and Minho really knows how to work a hole.

He sucks a breath between his teeth and tenses his stomach muscles. “Fuck… Hyunjin… Oh God.” He pants.

You exhale slowly as you sink a little further down his cock. It’s so much more than a few fingers and you take a moment to adjust. It’s a mixture of a burning sensation, being stretched as far open as you can possibly imagine whilst being filled so fucking deep that your eyes might get poked out.

It’s glorious. You want more.

Eventuallly, you push yourself down all the way so Minho is fully inside of you.

You catch your breath. “Minho? Does Hyunjin feel good?” you manage.

“Hyunjin…” Minho grips the sheets with his hands in desperation. “Please… please… please… I need you to fuck me.”

You begin to slowly slide yourself up and down Minho’s cock. Just a little at first. As you pick up the rhythm the intensity builds. It feels almost unbearable, but you're full of lust and you're on a mission.

“Hyunjin thinks you feel so fucking good.” you growl as you bounce up and down harder. Your cunt clenches as you're being fucked in the ass.

“He looks so good riding your pretty cock.” you pant.

Minho has well and truly lost control. He isn’t even trying to hold in the primal sounds now. You allow yourself to moan now too, hoping it won’t distract him. You fucking want to scream but you don’t want to bring Minho out of his fantasy.

You rock your hips back and forth, rolling them so that your clit rubs against his lower belly. The wetness from your pussy covers his body and allows you to slide back hard against his cock. The angle of the thrusts reaching parts of you that have never been reached.

“Fuck!” you cry out. Everything that can be clenched clenches, and your orgasm hits you like a ton of bricks. Waves upon waves of relief wash over you.

“Fuck… Hyun - ” Minho cries out now. “I’m so close.”

You compose yourself and try to stay in character. “That’s right, Minho. Come for Hyunjin.” you urge him on as you pick up the pace again.

“Hyunjin needs your cum.” You pull yourself up off his cock and slam yourself back down.

Minho cries out.

“He wants you to come so far up inside of him… he wants to know your cum is inside him long after this… Can you do that? Can-”

Minho bucks his hips up against you, and pumps his cock violently into you.

“Hyunjin!” He cries out as he comes and you can feel the warmth of his release deep inside you.

You take your time to catch your breath before sliding off of Minho and curling back up alongside him. You quickly find a towel and place it behind you to catch any cum that leaks out.

Well that was wild!

Minho is shaking and panting like he has a fever, as you reach up and remove the blindfold. His eyes are watery and his cheeks are flushed.

He finds your gaze and smiles. “Thank you.” He whispers.

You return the smile and snuggle in close. You both lay there for what feels like an eternity.

“Y/n?” he asks eventually. “Can we...Would it be okay to keep this just between us?”

“Of course, Minho.” you promise. “It’ll remain in the sanctity of the Boudoir.”

You hold each other as you drift off to sleep dreaming of other people.

tag list : open

@rylea08 @channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @kangnina @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @wolfennracha @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @rixenluv @piscesrising01 @lunearta @shltsnglggles @lilbabiebunni @jiminssluttyminx @armystay89 @krayzieestay @stellasays45 @hxnnielk @yaorzu-blog

[ughgoaway]

secret santa // day 1

content warnings; swearing, mention of boners, drinking?, pining and stressed matty lol

a/n; day 1 wooooo!!! For some reason, this is my longest fic i have for the 12 days, so we are starting with a bang, i guess?? I'm not totally sure how I feel about this fic... but tbh I never like anything I post, so that's not really new lol

word count; 4.2k

(this fic takes place pre-relationship)

12 days masterlist

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“Daddy!” is the first thing Matty hears when his daughter comes bounding into the house after school that day. Adam follows behind her with an exasperated look on his face, and her bright pink unicorn backpack slung over his shoulder.

“Hi mate, Annie has some very exciting news that she just can not stop talking about,” he says, stressing the fact that she just will not stop talking. Matty gives his friend an understanding nod as he takes his daughter's bag.

“Ah wow, how exciting! I can't wait to hear all about it,” Annie opens her mouth to talk, but Maty quickly cuts in before she can start, “After Uncle Adam leaves, okay? Say, thank you for picking me up to Uncle Adam!” 

Annie comes bounding up to Adam and hugs his legs. He can't help the smile that breaks out on his face. “Thank you, Uncle Adam!!” Annie says, looking up at him with that cheeky face he loves so much. Adam pats her head and waves to Matty before swiftly leaving to hang out with his much more peaceful son.

Matty manages to corral his daughter to sit at the kitchen table to share her very thrilling news, Annie is practically vibrating in her seat with excitement. Despite her palpable eagerness, Annie waited until Matty had sat down and given her a nod to start talking, something they had been working on.

As soon as she got the nod, words started vomiting out of Annie's mouth at a speed most people wouldn't be able to decipher. But if anyone was an expert on little Annie Healy, it was her dad.

“I get to do the Secret Santa!!” Annie eventually says, grinning so wide that Matty isn't sure her cheeks won't split. He pauses for a second, trying to process his daughter's words. How does she even know what secret Santa is?

“Oh wow, darling!” he says, fieigning happiness for his daughter, but his face tells another story, “That's great, sweetheart, but what does that mean exactly? Secret Santa with your friends? I thought we already got them presents?” Matty distinctly remembers about 2 hours in the Tesco toy aisle choosing out the perfect toy for each of her friends.

“Not for my friends silly,” Annie says sighing, as if her father's obliviousness was just so ridiculous, “for Miss y/n!!!” she smacks her hands on the table with a flourish, acting like this was an obvious piece of information.

Well, it certainly piqued Matty's interest. As did anything that involved your name, really. He remembers last month when someone got hired at Dirty Hit with the same name as you. Matty nearly got whiplash with how fast he turned when he first heard someone say “Y/n is here to see you!” The disappointment on his face must have scared the poor intern half to death. He quickly fixed his expression and was polite, but he felt his pulse racing under his skin.

“Ooh wow, munchkin, that's awesome! Did they give you a note or anything for me to have a look at?” Matty asks. He's sure they wouldn't trust a 6-year-old to relay this information.

Annie perked up at his words, “Oh yeah!” She says, jumping off her chair and scurrying over to her backpack. She unzips her bag and starts furiously pulling out different objects. Matty isn't sure how it all fits in. It's like Mary Poppins bag. She pulls out 5 books, 2 jumpers, 6 pieces of mystery paper, 2 toys (that she is not allowed to bring to school) and one of mayhems toys before she shrieks out an “Aha!” and in her hand is a crumpled pink slip of paper.

she brings it over to Matty excitedly and shoves it into his hand before straightening her back and puffing her chest out, clearly proud to have been chosen. Matty laughs at his daughter's infallible confidence before trying to straighten out the paper enough to read what's written.

“Okay let's see…” Matty says to himself, “Congratulations! If you have received this note, you have been chosen for our teacher's Secret Santa program! We at bridgeside school believe that our amazing teachers also deserve gifts this holiday season, so we choose one student from each teacher's class to be their Secret Santa. Don't worry, parents, there's a £10 limit so no need to go too wild! Students are picked based on enthusiasm and progress in school, so you should be proud to be picked! Please ensure all gifts are given to reception by Monday next week to allow time to distribute them. Thank you!” Matty finishes reading the note under his breath, and he can't help but grin to himself at the fact Annie was specially chosen.

He puts the paper down on the table and turns around to Annie, who is standing beside him with a nervous look on her face. Matty pauses for a few seconds before jumping and grabbing her, Annie shrieks at the sudden attack. He pulls her onto his lap and begins tickling all over her, revelling in her roaring laughter and infectious smile.

“Specially chosen, huh!” Matty says loudly to his daughter, still squeezing her tight in his arms and tickling where he can reach. Annie nods as best she can whilst being attacked with tickles, and Matty laughs at her gappy grin.

He soon lets up and leaves Annie sitting in his lap, looking happy as can be, “I know, Daddy!! The headmistress came to me today and said it because I've been trying so hard at my spelling!” she says, the look of pride on her face made mattys heart swell.

He remembers the late nights of practising her spelling. At the last parent’s evening, you had brought up Annie was falling behind a small bit in the weekly spelling tests. Not too much, but enough where some work at home would be beneficial. So Matty dedicated every Monday night as spelling night, and he and Annie sat and worked on it. He couldn't be happier that their hard work was recognised or that she's making such good progress.

It's then that the gravity of the situation at hand hits Matty. He has to buy a gift for you. For YOU. For the woman he… cares a great deal about. What does he buy? And for only £10! What good can he get with that? He didn't want to give you a shitty bottle of wine, this is his first opportunity to give you a gift and he wasn't about to fuck it up with a bad pinot.

Knowing he was about to spiral, Matty sent Annie off with a genuine smile and a quick hug. Annie being Annie, ran off oblivious to her dad's growing stress and began trolling around the house looking for mayhem. She had got some new hairclips in a magazine and was determined to give him a makeover.

Before he could go completely insane, Matty ran into the kitchen for his phone and just dialled the most recent number he called. Anyone would help right now, Matty was just sick of his own mind. 

“Hey Matty, you alright?” Ah, Adam, perfect. He was level-headed, a good dad, and knows how to deal with Matty’s hysteria. 

“Adam.” Matty starts in a disturbingly calm voice, “How could you just LEAVE when you knew what Annie was going to say?!?!” Matty scolded his best friend and was just met with the sound of laughter over the phone. 

“Why would I stay? It's no big deal, right? You have said on many occasions you feel totally neutral about Miss y/n, so I felt no need to stay” Adam teased, having had many conversations with Matty about his clear crush on you.

He first saw it at the school parent's day, he and Matty were casually chatting when you walked over and he saw his friend change in front of his eyes, suddenly becoming a lovesick 16-year-old. But Matty insisted he didn't have feelings for you, according to Matty he was “remarkably and totally neutral towards you”. 

Adam decided this news was a great way to test this theory. As soon as he heard Annie chattering on, he knew Matty would freak out, grab his phone, and call him. So when he got home, Adam simply made a cup of tea and sat down with his phone in his hand, waiting for a call. And 20 minutes later, his phone rang.

Silence is all Adam heard over the phone for a good few seconds, and he could almost see Matty weighing up his options with that scrunched-up face he does. He picked up his tea and loudly took a sip, reminding Matty of his presence.

On the other end of the line, Matty was doing exactly that. Does he embarrass himself and admit his feelings in exchange for help? Or does he fight to keep the last shred of dignity he had?

“Fine. I really really like her. Are you happy now?” Matty sighed, deciding that any dignity he might have had in the eyes of Adam died when he found him passed out in a bin with George at 19.

Adam grinned teasingly on the other side of the phone but decided to leave any real teasing for in person. It's just no fun when you can't see Matty's cheeks gradually turning more pink. “Okay. now that we've got that out of the way, what the fuck are you gonna get her?”

Matty scoffed at his friend's question, “Mate. Why the fuck do you think I'm calling? I have no idea!! I don't want to be boring and just get a candle and a bottle of wine.” Matty pauses thoughtfully for a moment before returning to his ramble, “although she does like candles. I remember her saying her apartment is covered in them, she even set off the smoke detector once. And she is always smelling like Jasmine so maybe that is her favourite scent? God she smells so good, you know I think her shampoo is apple and that mixed with-”

Adam cut Matty off before he started giving him your home address and national insurance number, “Dude how do you know what scent shampoo she uses? God, you're such a stalker. Don't go full Dahmer on this girl, yeah?” Adam jokes.

“It's not my fault she has nice hair! Anyway, shut up. You are not being helpful right now” Matty whines petulantly, and Adam realises he's actually freaking out about this. He decided it was time to go full dad mode and be supportive.

“Right, it's clear you know a lot about her, so why don't we focus on that? Do you know her favourite perfume or something? Maybe some jewellery she wants? I’m assuming you are not sticking to the £10 limit”

Matty simply scoffs, confirming Adam’s suspicion. Before he can continue throwing ideas at Matty, he hears him gasp, “I know what to get her!” Matty says excitedly.

Once again, silence falls over the two men, and Adam sighs, knowing what Matty wants, “and what is that, Matthew?” he says with sarcastic excitement filling his voice. 

Adam can hear the grin over the phone as Matty speaks, “I'm going to get her a copy of “The Little Prince” but a proper nice one, first edition in the original French and everything” he puffed out his chest in pride as he finished, despite no one being around to see him.

“A kid's book? Matty shes a teacher. I'm sure she's sick of kid’s books, why would you get her that? Does she even know French?” Adam can't help but think Matty saw a copy on her desk and just assumed she liked it. Maybe she was just teaching with it, and Matty took the idea and ran.

“No no, you don't get it,” Matty starts, “it was her favourite book as a kid. She was obsessed and read it cover to cover so many times the spine fell apart. She told me that this book is what made her want to teach. As soon as she read it, she went into her class the next day and did a whole presentation on it, read it to her whole class, and answered questions." Matty envisioned an 8-year-old you buzzing with excitement talking about the book, your teacher smiling and encouraging as you were blabbering on.

"She had a copy from her grandmother that she treasured, but it got lost in the jumble when she moved. It was in the original French, and she learnt French just to be able to read it. Nothing means more to her than this book.” As he finished, Matty noticed the massive grin on his face, something that was inevitable whenever he spoke about you.

He decided not to talk about the one time he actually heard you speak French, not wanting to share the experience of trying to hide a boner during a school-wide meeting and sneaking off to his car pretty quickly after it wrapped up.

Adam was taken aback by Matty's words. Who was this person, and what did he do to his best mate? He's pretty sure for his last situation-ships birthday, Matty got her a card with a bouquet of lilies. And she was allergic to lilies.

But here he was, considering things you loved in childhood, things that actually mean something to you. He had never seen Matty so infatuated with someone, remembering every little thing they ever said.

Matty was in love with you. 

“Fuck man you are whipped” is what Adam decided to say, not sure whether Matty had come to the whole “love” realisation by himself yet.

“Ha ha ha, Adam you're so funny.” Matty said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “So do you think it is okay? She’ll like it?” he anxiously chewed on his nails as he spoke, desperate not to fuck this up.

“It's perfect. She's gonna love it, if you can find one that is” came Adam's response, he decided to lay off the comedic responses for a little bit, just to stop Matty from having a mental breakdown. 

“Oh I'll find one. Otherwise, I'll have to get her a candle, and that's just shite” his confidence was clear through the phone. And a determined Matty is someone who gets something done, whether you like it or not.

As soon as he knew what to get, he practically hung up on Hann mid-sentence, but he stayed long enough to give him a rushed goodbye. Not quite long enough to say thank you, however, but Adam got a text a few seconds later simply saying, “Thank you, I needed that”

Adam, being a middle-aged man, simply sent back a thumbs-up emoji, ‘an image that speaks a thousand words’ he thought.

////

After a week of calling every rare bookshop in the area, Matty managed to get his hands on a first edition of “The Little Prince”, for substantially more than £10 but that secret was between him, god and his wallet. 

He explained to the school that Annie wanted to give her gift to you personally, so he asked if he could bring it directly to you on Friday. By some grace of god, the school agreed, and here Matty was standing outside your door gift bag in hand and pulling anxiously at his shirt.

“Matty!” You say in shock as you open the door, a beaming smile on your face. Matty took in your dress and almost had to grip the door frame to steady himself. It was the staff Christmas party that night, and it was clear you were all dressed up and ready. You stood in a sleek black dress, nothing glittery or fancy, but the way it looked on you had Matty's hands itching to touch you.

“I'm here too miss y/n” came a little voice from below. You were too busy staring into Matty’s eyes and watching them skirt over your body. 

“Oh, Annie! I'm so sorry, sweetheart, your daddy is so tall I almost missed you!” You laugh out and pat Annie's head in apology. Matty couldn't help but preen at the mention of his height.

“I'm so sorry to interrupt you. You look amazing, by the way. Well, not like - not amazing in a creepy way - I mean-” Matty stuttered, trying to get back to his point. You simply nod along with his words and bit the inside of your cheek to hide the smirk threatening to break across your face.

“Anyway,” Matty said after he pulled himself together with a shake of his head, “we're here to give you your Secret Santa present! Annie, do you want to pass it to miss y/n?” he patted his daughter on the back and passed her the gift.

With flushed cheeks and a pink nose from the cold, Annie grinned up to you and passed the bag over. Matty had added a few filler presents, a candle and a bottle of perfume Annie chose, and that he thought you'd like. Just the book felt… odd. A little too personal, maybe, he didn't want to scare you off with his slightly stalker-like tendencies.

“Wow! Thank you, Annie! I didn't think I was even in this year's Secret Santa!” You lie, you knew Annie was your gift giver the day she got chosen. That cheesy smile wouldn't leave her face all day.

Annie giggled clung to her dad's leg, suddenly feeling shy at the attention. Matty simply smiled at his daughter and began to fiddle with her curls.

“Okay well, we will leave you to go to your party now. I hope you have a good time! Say bye to miss y/n Annie,” Matty prompts his daughter, who gives you a wave and runs away. Matty spins on his heels and begins to follow before turning around to say one last thing. 

“I meant what I said earlier, by the way. You look beautiful” he said with a bashful smile, acting almost as shy as his daughter just had. 

Words escaped you at that moment. You wanted to run and give him a hug for the present and a kiss for the compliment, but you simply whispered, “Thank you, Matty.”

The door had barely clicked shut, and you had already all but ran to your desk to open your present, your heart in your mouth at the prospect of a gift from Matty. Well, technically from Annie, but you're pretty sure if Matty gave her £10 and let her loose in Tesco, the present would end up being something totally random like a bag of celery.

But maybe you were reading too much into this. Your silly schoolgirl crush has just been growing and growing over the passing months. Your heart aches for Matty. It has gotten to the point where you sit in bed late at night and perform autopsies on conversations you had months ago. Desperate to find something said in the unsaid, something new.

You won't see him for a week, and you'll convince yourself it's just a physical attraction thing, a casual crush. But then you see him swooping in at pick up with his rockstar sunglasses and beautiful curls, and you feel your heart stutter and pause. Every time you speak with him, butterflies hammer at your ribs, and your brain seems to just stop around him. Much to your embarrassment. 

Recently, you vowed to be more natural around him, totally normal. However, trying to play it cool and casual is a great plan in theory, but attempting to do that whilst looking into his eyes is an almost impossible task.

But tonight, you managed to at least play it off like Matty's comment didn't knock the wind out of you. His calling you beautiful was going to go around and around in your head for weeks. You wish you could have memorised the moment better. You should focus on his shy smile or the way he wrung his hands together anxiously. Maybe even the look of pure love in his eyes.

But you were too busy internally repeating to yourself “Don't fall over. Don't act like a twat. Make sure to smile and not freeze.” so all of those small things got lost in the jumble of thoughts.

As you pulled the tissue out of the paper, a waft of matty hit your nostrils. god, were you that desperate that even tissue paper smells like him now? You could swear it has that same musk and warmth that follows him around.

Little did you know Matty had to actively choose not to constantly think about you. He has to try not to think about the way you bite your lip when you're focusing on something. Or the way you fiddle with your hair when you're nervous, twisting it around your fingers absentmindedly. Or even the way your cheeks flush when someone compliments you, the way it spreads from your cheeks to over your nose and down to your neck. He has to really try not to think about your neck, to not obsess over the thought of pressing kisses up and down it as you giggle into him. But alas, he had actual adult responsibilities, much to his dismay, so he couldn't just sit and analyse you every waking moment.

You stick your hand in and grab something that feels like a candle, and it is… oh. It's a candle. Huh.

You're not disappointed. It smells good and has a beautiful jar, but you can't help but feel slightly odd at the lack of warmth. But whatever, you were expecting too much anyway. A candle and a bottle of wine are perfectly normal Secret Santa presents, and why should you expect anything other than that? Just because you were lusting after Matty doesn't mean he thought about you any longer than he had to.

You shake off any disappointment you had and resign yourself to the idea that this is a totally normal parent present. There won't be anything amazing or showstopping. The budget was £10 and you're sure not even world famous rock star Matty Healy could get anything good with that.

You pull out the perfume next, immediately smiling as you notice it's your favourite scent, jasmine. What a lucky guess. It's a nice bottle, too. It had you immediately thinking of a use for it afterwards, the same way any nice bottle or jar does. You must have a collection of 20 candle jars on your mantle at home filled with knickknacks, little things from the kids, or strange porcelain figures you didn't have the heart to leave in a charity shop.

The bag is still heavy in your hands, but you scrunch your face in confusion. Surely there's no budget left? Tentatively, you reach in and feel a book, which is even more confusing to you, but you pull it out anyway, interested to see what Matty thought you read.

Oh. fuck. 

There in your hands was your childhood in physical form, the curly script reading “le petit prince.” Your eyes skirt over the cover as they well up. Slowly, you spin the book around and audibly gasp as you look it over, admiring its worn spine and somehow pristine cover. 

Your vision is foggy, tears gathering at your lash line and you're intent on not letting them fall, but as soon as you open the book and a small certificate of authenticity falls out you can't help but wetly laugh in shock as tears stream down your cheeks.

The first edition of your favourite book of all time. The book that meant everything to you, everything to your grandmother. You never thought you'd see a first edition in real life, let alone own one.

With shaky hands, you carefully pull apart the pages and begin to read, muttering the french under your breath. Tears drip onto the desk and blow you. You sniffle and bring a shaky hand up to wipe them away, but it's futile. They continue to find their way down your cheeks.

With a pounding heart, you place down the book with the care of handling a newborn baby, and as you do so a small white slip of paper under the certificate catches your eye. You slide it out from under and try and read it despite your wet eyes.

“To y/n,

I know this is over the limit, but I also know what this book means to you. I still remember talking about it in depth on World Book Day. Us two huddled in a corner, trying to escape the other parents. Your vulnerability and honesty that day meant so much to me. Thank you for sharing. also, thank you for being the very best teacher to my little girl. I don't know where either of us would be without you. Anyway, I'll stop rambling now, Let's keep this gift between us, though, huh? I wouldn't want Mr. Johnson from the year 5 class to find out his nice cheese platter isn't the best gift of the year.

Happy holidays darling, 

Matty x”

Well, safe to say any hope of that crush faltering had just died and gone to hell. 

[thelunarfairy]

Theory time! The change of paradox

If you haven't seen chapter 111 yet, this is a spoiler, the new chapter is available in the manga up!

Akane was responsible for creating a new present. Then he looks at the clocks on the wall, specifically one with the date 1968.

If we go back in time a little, we have the date when Nene found Amane crying in the classroom.

And also, the date when Tsuchigomori was treating Amane's injuries, in the same year and month.

Probably 1969 was the year the twins died, and if Akane went back and changed some important event from 1968… Something crucial was changed to change the present. Among the possibilities of what it was, the first one that comes to mind is the murder and death of the twins, given the connection between the dates and their deaths.

Kako said that the thing inside Tsukasa was a problem, not exactly in those words, but assuming the thing is to blame for the current events.

So, in order to solve the problem, something related to Tsukasa must be done. What could be done to stop Tsukasa from doing everything he did up until the events of the present?

Not allow the death of the twins?

If they didn't die, Tsukasa probably won't create a bond with Sakura and Hanako won't have a wish to fulfill (Mitsuba won't find Tsukasa either). In other words, Tsukasa will not do anything he has done since the beginning of the story.

Theoretically speaking, it is a path that can be followed, but we are not sure. What was 12 year old Tsukasa like in life? Hanako didn't seem pleased, and he confirmed that he had doubts from the beginning whether he was really his brother.

The mysterious hand talks about an incident that happened at a festival, so let's imagine this is somehow linked to the twins as well. What can guarantee Akane that Tsukasa won't do what he did in the present?

12-year-old Tsukasa appeared to Nene, calling her to play again, in other words, what can guarantee that preventing the twins' deaths will make Tsukasa not try to change what happened?

The solution would be to go back to their childhood and not allow Tsukasa to find that thing, Amane would die, and Tsukasa would stay alive, that is, there would be no possibility of little Tsukasa finding Kou and Nene in the future and wanting to return.

But Akane went back to 1968… it's not related to their childhood, the dates don't match.

So, let's now get into the temporal paradox.

If Akane went back in time and changed some event from 1968, the twins (maybe) didn't die, if they didn't die, they didn't become supernatural (only Hanako, Tsukasa was already a supernatural)

If Amane didn't die and didn't become Hanako, then he didn't get involved with Yashiro, if he didn't get involved with Yashiro, no seal was removed, and if no seal was removed there wasn't the severance and if there wasn't the severance, Nene and Kou didn't find little Tsukasa.

And if they never found little Tsukasa, then he never returned and if he never returned, that means only Amane survived and Tsukasa stayed in the red house, taking us to Amane's ideal future, becoming a teacher.

So, Nene won't be Kou's friend, and Kou won't get attached to Mitsuba, who won't become a supernatural after death, in fact, we don't know if Mitsuba's death was caused by the house's influence, that is, it could be that Mitsuba is alive depending on the cause of his death.

He died in an accident, but if he took a photo of the house, developed it and left it in the room, it means he came out of there alive and may have returned later. Just a theory without much proof.

But, returning to the paradox, if Akane doesn't allow the twins to die, there's no way Amane could become Hanako, so all the events didn't happen, and if Nene didn't find little Tsukasa, he won't return, so Akane saved the twins, but even then only Amane will be left alive.

Wow, paradoxes work like that, and well, that was the clearest explanation for me so far, how could going back to the year 1968 change the present? That's the answer I'm thinking for now.

It would be easier to return to their childhood, but Aidairo doesn't like easy and obvious paths.

So, for now the main idea is that Akane prevented the death of the twins….

But well, that probably doesn't change the fact that the seven mysteries still exist, perhaps? Kako wouldn't send Akane back in time if he knew it would lead to his own destruction…. Will there be another number seven?

The God continues to exist, and so do the paths, what changes is who is the new number seven? Does it exist? Hmm…. There's something missing….

Tsukasa can apparently also travel through the time stream, so he can change it back whenever he want. Perhaps? Nene when she found Amane crying, she kept his keys, but it happened in 1969, if Akane went back to 1968, then it's not related to that…. Um….

Tsukasa made a point of making Nene go back to 1969, so that she could get this key…. Hmm…..

So, are we likely to see Amane as Nene's teacher from over 50 years old? Wow. This is new. But well, don't worry too much, I don't think this will last long.

Tsukasa is generally not affected by these things, he will find his way to make things return to normal, if not him, it will be Nene, she will definitely remember everything, like in the PP arc (will she?). The key will probably be important in this arc, I don't know if Nene still has it, but paradoxes always leave gaps.

Now yes, we are finally entering the arc of number one! I was really skeptical that it would be so easy, either there was something wrong with Aidairo or it was just a play, luckily it was the second option.

Let's see what Akane tried to change, and how long it will last…

[chejuu]

20 questions for writers

thank you @wingdingery for the tag and excuse to self-indulgently talk about myself <3

1. how many works do you have on AO3? 17 on cheju, then 11 more on my various and sundry accounts 🫣

2. what's your total AO3 word count? 73,122 on cheju, a total of 110,145

3. what fandoms do you write for? nightwing + some original work as of late + various fandoms i used to be in that people request in fic exchanges

4. what are your top 5 fics by kudos? like two days ago bad desire just surpassed the kudos of a ten-year-old sansa/margaery fic i published on my old account. wow! please ignore that i was writing smut at 16

setting aside my other accounts, then it’s diesis (smut), listen to teeth (smut), sex, lies, and audiotape (mafia au. also smut), and exactly what it looks like (silly identity porn crack)

5. do you respond to comments? always!

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? down together leaves it open but probably fits the bill, in that the sex makes things significantly worse between slade and dick

7. what's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Rescued Slut Thanks His Studly Savior is established relationship sladick fluff (if pure smut can be fluff i guess) which i thought i would never write so maybe that. or better now, but it's about theater camp (2023) which is already a feel-good comedy movie to begin with

8. do you get hate on fics? not yet. i feel like it's a rite of passage, tho. quick someone send me hate

9. do you write smut? If so, what kind? it’s like... all i do

10. do you write crossovers? no, but never saying never!

11. have you ever had a fic stolen? nope

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? nope!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? i think i’d be too embarrassed

14. What's your all-time favorite ship? gotta be drarry (sorry sladick)

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will? i plan to finish all my wips eventually, even the unpublished ones! at least any that have made it out of the notes app and into a word doc. the only one that maaay not make it is a recursive fic (author permission granted!) based on a popular sladick story—i’m a bit nervous about not living up to the original 🙈

16. What are your writing strengths? character voice, i think, and banter in particular. sexual tension, smut. so i've been told!

17. What are your writing weaknesses? i hardly write anything longer than a single scene, let alone more than one chapter. the one time i've given it an earnest go, i've gotten so caught up in the weeds that i haven't updated in months T_T

i'd also like to get better at atmosphere. not so much descriptions of the setting, more like... creating a distinctive tone through detail, metaphor, word choice. sometimes i feel like unless i'm writing a very particular setting, the tone is just. nonexistent?

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? i honestly have zero thoughts

19. First fandom you wrote for? harry potter when was 14. wow it even has an A/N and everything

20. Favourite fic you've written? i think it’s bad desire so i’m glad the people agree hahah 

-

tagging @lordwisteria @roipecheur @mattdillon @thesubtextis @ontheropesss !

[osamusbigtits]

Single Dad Osamu 👁️👁️

wow this one's so popular 🤭 :3

anyway

osamu and this girl get together, when they're both about 19 years old. they're young, a little dumb. she ends up pregnant a few months into the relationship. and of course osamu's like "whatever you do, I support, I'm here for you, it's up to you."

she decides to have the baby, mostly from pressure from her own parents. but she does see how happy osamu gets to when he receives the news that he is going to be a dad

that baby girl, kanako, is the light of osamu's life. he does everything for her, cuddles her. he is always holding her, anytime she cries he's trying to fix it. he's a little overprotective and a little too worried, but it's his first kid, he's young, and he wants to be such a good dad.

about 10 months after giving birth, osamu's girlfriend decides she can't do it. osamu comes home and all of her things are gone and his poor babygirl is all alone.

he goes straight to his baby, fussing over her because he doesn't know how long she's been alone. he doesn't even think to figure out what happened with his girlfriend until a few hours later. he finds a note that just says "sorry, I cant."

osamu calls his mom because as much as he loves his baby girl, he can't raise a baby on his own. he works long hours at a restaurant, he's trying to save up to start his own restaurant, he's still young.

osamu treats it as it's him and kanako against the world. he does everything for her, he does his best to be a good dad, he loves her so much.

with help from atsumu and their mom, osamu's able to continue his dream of owning a restaurant. kanako is basically raised in that restaurant. regulars see her in a back booth, completing homework or behind the counter, helping her daddy take orders.

when she's 12 she starts working at the restaurant after school. she joins the volleyball team, she's a setter just like her uncle atsumu.

I think osamu is fine with being single while his daughter is young. he doesn't think about dating because he's got so much going on. however, that doesn't stop kanako from trying to set him up with nearly any woman who steps foot into the restaurant

suna is called uncle rin, he babysits anytime he's in town and kanako loves him so much. together they are absolute menaces, planning pranks on both of the twins. it makes osamu so fond.

I think osamu struggles at first because he doesn't know exactly how to make it clear that he's always there and if she needs to talk about something she can come to him.

osamu is always going to his mom for advice

she tells him he needs to calm down and he's doing great. he's got a healthy, happy kid and thats all that needs to be.

I do think there are some mental health issues that run in the family that kanako starts to show symptoms for, so osamu gets her a therapist. osamu explains complicated things to her and let's her know she can always come to osamu with questions.

osamu panics when she gets her period. she's like 12 years old, she calls for him while she's in the bathroom and osamu just has a gut feeling and she's like "there's blood"

osamu goes to the store and buys every single type of pad and tampon 💀

kanako thinks it's the funniest thing and tells everyone that story. but she's really happy about it because it does show how supportive her dad is.

um, that's all I've got for now.

[likeadevils]

Any timeline news bestie?

actually yeah!! a good chunk of news that i need to officially type up and source, but if you want to just take me at my word that i’m not making up interviews:

@1989worldtour and @taylor-on-your-dash found an old interview where taylor says she wrote back to december in new york, meaning it was likely written in early/mid may 2010

in that same interview she also said she wrote mine while on tour, probably in texas (that’s her saying probably texas not me). which would put it march 10-12 2010. the thing that trips me up about that though is scott borchetta said she showed it to him in february, which isn’t a big time difference, but taylor left for the bahamas right after texas. i don’t know exactly what day she left, so it’s possible she flew from texas to nashville’s to the bahamas and recorded the first mine demo then, but unless she did that the next time she could be in nashville would be on the 21st, and the next time she’s in nashville for longer than a day would be march 29, both of which are pushing the february mix up. but no matter what taylor probably wrote it in early march, since all the dates in february were in australia and tokyo, which seem hard to mix up with texas.

in that same interview she said she started mean in her kitchen but then had to leave to go play a show. that could be whenever, but the only 2010 show she played without a show right before/after it was in baton rouge on may 29, where she had two days off before and after it, so speculation but better than the “idk sometime in spring?” that i had it under before

(side salad: you might be thinking claire, is that too many may 2010 songs? and if you’ve read the speak now timeline you might be thinking, but what about long live in the first week of june and the story of us in the second week of june? is that too many songs? and to that i’d say wow, thank you for paying so much attention. but, taylor does go into writing frenzies in the months right before she finishes an album, and she finished writing for speak now in june and recording for it in july, so like. it makes sense that there’d be a cluster right at the end)

nathan chapman, the guy who produced basically every song taylor recorded between 2006-2011, posted a couple photos from the speak now and red sessions! unfortunately we don’t know which song she was making in the speak now picture (my kingdom for speak now studio credits), but the one from red is likely girl at home— it is the only released song taylor made with him at his house after cutting her bangs and straightening her hair

and some super early tortured poets speculation— on october 17, post malone said he’d just hung out with taylor, and on october 20 deuxmoi said taylor had just been in LA working with a new producer. dm is normally absolute dogshit at getting information out of taylor’s camp, but idk about post malone/whatever producer’s side of things. so i’m putting a very shaky maybe on fortnight in october 2023

if anyone has an opportunity to enter electric lady studios please tell me if they have a tan couch in front of a dark wood background. i have crawled through their website and instagram and i can find no such couch but taylor and jack working in a non-electric lady/his house studio would be insane (EDIT JACK BUILT A NEW STUDIO IN LA AND THE PHOTOS I WAS TRYING TO TRACK DOWN WERE PROBABLY TAKEN THERE)

[jo-harrington]

As Above, So Below - Chapter 4: Malum Malus

Previous Chapter: Chapter 3 - Crucible

Summary: The past haunts you, tempts you, but now you need to come to terms with it before it ruins your chances to save Hawkins from the Darkness.

Word Count: 16.3k

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, Religious Themes, Criticism of Religion/Catholicism, Fate vs. Free Will, Death and Injury, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Mentions of Major Character Deaths, Grief, Mourning, Yearning, Discussion of the Upside Down, Supernatural Encounters, Angst, Smut, Sexual Tension, Ambiguous Sexual Identity, Unspoken Confidence in Sexual Identity, Psychological Manipulation, Dub-Con, Non-Verbal Consent, Vaginal Fingering, Grinding/Humping, Groping, Sexual Activity with Multiple Partners, Bloodletting, Biblical and Other Literary/Media References

Note: Wow what a weird month. Remember when I said I wanted to get 2 chapters out in October? Wild. Gonna stress the importance of reading the warnings in this one. We dive into some…dicey territory especially at the end. Do not give into the temptation. Or do. That's kind of…exactly what this chapter is about. (But seriously read the warnings.)

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!

“If I am the chief of sinners, I am the chief of sufferers also.”  - Robert Louis Stevenson, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

October 11, 1987

You were filled with a horrible sadness.

Worry.

You were alone...together alone.

He'd banished the others so he could focus on this...disgusting undertaking, but he'd put an obvious distance between the two of you purposefully. So he could do as he wished without your pitiful interference.

You knew this would be good for him: a singular focus, a task, a distraction. The end result would bring him to the light...but deep down you were worried he would be tempted further off the path as he forged through the darkness to get there.

"Be careful," you reminded him as the infernal red lightning flashed overhead. "You don't know what this will do."

"This will change things," he hissed excitedly. "It'll be different. It'll be perfect."

"Please." His hunger, his desire...it was palpable and overwhelming, saturating your surroundings. "Just...wait."

"It's just a little grave robbery," he chuckled darkly and closed his eyes. His form grew, large and imposing, and his hands reached for the heavens. "Everything will work out. You'll see."

"It's forbidden. Unholy."

He rolled his eyes and grinned at the challenge.

"You'll be here," he reasoned. "If anything goes wrong...you'll be here to fix it. You'll fix everything. Everything will be better. Soon."

He threw himself at the ground and drove his claws into the dirt, reaching...reaching...until the both of you shouted in pain at the resulting surge that tore through the Upside Down.

That tore through you.

You fell to your knees as you felt it pull at your heartstrings, as it ripped through your limbs, and you prayed...you prayed that everything would work. Because if it didn't...it would kill you.

And Eddie would be lost.

"You'll see," he sounded desperate now as he willed his little experiment to succeed. "Triumph over God. Over fate. We'll be together. Forever. Finally."

October 12, 1987

Deep below the Vatican laid the skeletal remnants of the Sanctuary of the Knights of the Holy Order. It was no longer in use--hadn't been for over a century--but it was there. Waiting. Kept as a reminder that mistakes had been made and lessons learned.

It had been a barracks, a place to train and rest, and mostly, a place to reflect and pray. To know oneself was to know God, because He lived inside them all. Through Him, they could overcome any challenge they faced.

Challenges that, occasionally, lived inside as well. Conflict between what was Good and what was Right.

Because the Sanctuary had also been a dungeon. A prison. A lab.

The Friars had been tasked to maintain the Sanctuary in those early days, to create weapons to aid in the fight when the Heavenly powers fell short. But in order to defeat something, you had to understand it. Creatures of Darkness had been captured, imprisoned, studied.

All of the books about the supernatural that you’d studied in your adolescence only existed because of the Order and the Friars of the Sanctuary.

But it was soul-splitting, hardening labor, and though the intentions were good…they were unethical. Unholy. But wasn’t that the way? Terrible things done in the name of goodness…were considered good no matter how terrible they were.

It wasn't until the Napoleonic Wars--when the Knights had been the worst kept secret in Europe after the conquest of the Papal States, as they did the bidding of the insidious Emperor--that everything changed. When Pope Pius VII returned from his banishment and saw that the Knights had been used for the bidding of one over the good of all, he reformed the Order.

All the dark deeds done in the name of good were buried. All of the research and experiments stopped.

And the Sanctuary closed its doors for good...

...except to you.

Where all the other Knights were anointed under the light of the moon, under the watchful eye of heaven, and were gifted with a blessing...your forefathers...you...were banished to the depths to make your vow.

That had been your first stop after you'd left Hawkins, so you could take the Oath properly.

You'd been led down the dusty winding staircase and made to explore the dank hole that still carried the stench of corruption and failure. You'd shined a light over the centuries-old dusty tomes, touched bones of saints, and viewed the body of your ancestor--the one who had turned down the offer of penance, the one who had killed his Pope--unnaturally preserved and kept on display.

He was a reminder, for your family and your family alone, of what would happen should you fail your life's purpose.

What a jarring experience, to speak the vow and then have your hand cut open to pour blood onto the knife still embedded in his heart.

They'd left you then, the Knights who'd brought you there, once they were sure you had taken the first solid steps on the path fate had in store for you. They clapped you on the shoulder, offered the briefest of congratulatory words, and then left you to, once again, crawl and climb through dark, unfathomable depths.

In hindsight, it was just a load of shit.

But for the briefest moment, you felt right. This had been the right choice, a birthright rather than a curse, and your determination would guide you to your ultimate goal.

It was a transcendent, euphoric experience akin to the moment you had realized you loved Eddie. You felt reborn once again.

Emboldened by this newfound confidence, you took the winding pathway back and you explored. The temptation was too strong. You read the tomes, you slashed through the air with a forgotten old sword inscribed with the Oath of the Order.

And you giggled as you pushed an old door open and found what you thought was an apothecary of some sort. You shined your flashlight over a set of shelves that was stacked with dusty old specimen jars labeled in antiquated script.

Your thoughts had immediately turned to Eddie; how the two of you had spent several hours making old pasta sauce jars look dusty and crusty and filled them with cornstarch, water, and food coloring for his Halloween campaign.

Venenum. Bilis. Sanguis.

You had intended to take a closer look when you kicked a jar that had been on the ground. Old and misshapen, it rolled into the shadows and you followed it. Several yards, until it hit a solid object and stopped.

The light of your flashlight hit the label first, Phlegethos Sanies, and you reached out to grab the jar.

Then you dragged the beam of your flashlight up and up, further and further.

Until you came face to face with a hulking skeleton with a horned skull.

A minotaur.

Chained to a chair, its head tilted back and jaw opened wide in a perpetual silent scream.

It was an unexpected sight and in your shock, your finger brushed the dusty, withered limb, and you saw.

Saw the atrocities committed all those years ago, heard the endless whines and screams that echoed against the stone, felt the pain that surged through every single creature that had been set upon that chair. That had been cursed to live out their final days in this place. In the name of Good. In the name of Heaven.

Your joy suddenly diminished and dread flooded you.

You already knew that the Sanctuary brought anything but sanctity to those who entered its depths, but to see it...to experience it in such a way--

"Go," the spirits warned. They amplified everything that you had felt less-than in the two short decades of your life and made you aware that while you were here as a Knight, you were very much other. Just like them. "You don’t belong here. Go. Before they get you next."

--would last with you forever.

That memory was what flashed before your eyes now as Steve threw Billy's unconscious body into the folding chair in the garage. As he and Robin wound rope around his body, and then latched handcuffs to his wrists. As they argued between each other and then spat accusations at you.

"He was dead!"

"How the fuck is he back?"

"What did you do? How did you do this?"

Mary Victoria stood beside you resolutely, and spat sharp words right back at them.

“She didn’t fucking do anything!” She leaned closer to you and muttered under her breath. “Did…did you do this? It’s fine if you did I just…need to know if I need to kick someone’s ass if they come after you.”

“I didn’t,” you reassured her numbly.

“Ok good. Good. We can work with this,” she nodded.

You tried to feel a little proud of her. She was dealing with all of this madness with more strength and composure than anyone had given her credit for.

Did she get a little—

“Shut the fuck up Harrington, stop pointing fingers.”

—enthusiastic? Yes.

However, you had yet to check on her, and if your state of mind was anything other than WHAT it was at that very minute, you would have dragged her out of this room so she wouldn't have to bear witness to what followed.

Because you could feel that it would not be pretty; feel it in the very marrow of your bones.

Watching a man crawl from a grave...to see him reach out to you before he collapsed...and then to have to haul him back to wherever it was you had come from...had been a draining task.

Especially when you did your best not to touch his skin.

The others didn't seem to have that hang up though, as they manhandled him, seemingly debated one another over what the rest of his life might look like locked up in this garage.

"How are we gonna keep him here forever? He's gonna need food, water, clothes."

"Maybe he'll just wake up and be normal?"

"Hargrove? Normal? Pfft."

"Do we need duct tape? Just in case?" Robin asked warily, her hand going to her mouth so she could chew on her thumb nail in contemplation. "He was pretty strong last time...with the Mind Flayer and everything."

"I don't think we need to worry about that," you finally spoke up, ready to get the show on the road. "Resurrection takes a lot out of you; it'll take a good amount of time for him to wake up, let alone be strong enough to do any harm."

Of course you were immediately proven wrong as he gained consciousness with a strangled gasp and coughing fit. Everyone jumped as they startled.

"What the fuck! What the fuck!" Robin backed as far from him as she could.

"Maybe you're not the expert on this that you think you are," Steve accused harshly.

"Alright he's awake now. What do we do? Douse him in holy water? Just start asking questions?"

"Can you guys shut up," Dustin hissed from the door to the garage. "Before we wake someone up. That someone being Nancy. You know she's gonna be pissed off when she finds out about this."

"Respectfully," Mare spat. "Fuck Nancy. Who put her in charge here? I'll fight her."

"Yeah we have a literal zombie tied to a chair," Steve scoffed. Unexpectedly, your curiosity was piqued and your mind began to race. "There aren't rules for this."

"Funny you say that," you took a step forward, closer to Billy, whose head hung limply as he took calculated breaths. As if he'd never taken a breath before now.

"What, there are rules?"

"Yes and no. More like...guidelines." You waved a hand dismissively. "And I meant...more your use of the word zombie. The origin of...zombie...is--"

"Listen, you gave us a lesson in vampires and resurrection last night too. But does it really matter?" Robin questioned.

You paused and looked around the garage.

Four faces stared at you expectantly, as though they were simply waiting for the next thing to happen. No silly lore, no story, no explanation of what would come next. Dustin and Mare looked curious enough, but it had been a long day and a longer night. They didn't have the patience.

For a moment, you were transported again.

Reminded of another life. Other lives.

One lonelier, so much lonelier. Twenty-some-odd years spent so obviously separate from everyone else, mostly silent as decisions were made for you; thoughts and opinions and words buried deep that would never matter because your fate was already written. And then another, where you were seen and understood. Your silly stories were shared and embraced. Appreciated and loved. Not just by one person, by many...but because of one person.

It had been years since you had walked away from it...but had taken just as long, it took until right this second, to resign yourself that you might never have it again.

You shot a tight, apologetic smile at the others and then crouched down in front of Billy. You gently called his name.

"Can you hear me?" You asked. "Billy?"

He groaned and raised his head weakly, his bloodshot eyes slightly unfocused until they landed on you. He fought against the restraints for a moment, but you held your hands out to try and calm him.

"Don't...we have you tied up, but don't be afraid. It's just a precaution. You're safe here."

His shoulders heaved for a moment but he relaxed.

"Good. Now...we have some questions. Do you know where you are?" You looked at the others and then back at him. "Do you know who you are? Recognize anyone here?"

He stared at you.

"Billy?"

Just kept staring.

"This is going nowhere," Steve sighed.

"No, no, it's disorienting," you explained. "Give it a second. How long has he been dead for? Two years? Almost three?”

“His body doesn’t look like Barb’s.” Robin noted. "Or Heather’s or Chrissy’s or—”

“Ok now you want to hear what I have to say?" you snarked, and you almost apologized when Billy's lip quirked the slightest bit. Then it was gone.

You narrowed your eyes in suspicion.

So there was something inside--someone--with a sense of humor.

You thought back through what you'd seen in Max's memories.

Billy wasn't...he wasn't a joker. Could he be? With friends and people he felt safe with, sure. Would he laugh at the expense of people he saw as lesser than him? As a way to bolster his own confidence? Yes. And could you say that the people in this room were definitely ones he would target for his own sense of security.

But this wasn't that.

Those empty eyes--abyss-like with blown pupils--stared at you still as you shifted, they followed you...and you froze. It was microscopic, barely noticeable if you hadn't been looking right into his eyes.

You'd seen that before.

The demogorgon. How it had followed you. Disinterested in the hunt, in Wayne. Specifically gunning for you.

It had reached for you. Just like Billy did before he collapsed.

"Kas?" you questioned, and without even looking, you could sense everyone else in the room stiffen. The air grew tense; a shift in the mood. "It's you in there right? How are you doing that?"

He blinked.

Your skin erupted in goosebumps.

Not an answer, per se, but enough of one.

"That's a neat trick," you goaded, hoping to maybe get a little more than just a blink. "Can you do that to all of them? Or just this one? The empty ones."

No reaction this time.

You stood to your full height and he watched. Watched as you paced, so purposefully. In a human body once again, instead of a demogorgon, but akin to a predator tracking its prey.

In those dark depths, there was need. Hunger.

But you had a need too. Kas was challenging you, had been, and you needed to win.

You were suddenly determined to get something from this revelation. Could you get him to bend? Get him to break? Reveal his hand unintentionally.

Victory so sweet you could taste it.

"You don't like me, do you? Is that why you're sending your pets after me?" Billy blinked, his eyes widened. "You want me? You have me. It's ok, you don't need to talk. I can still hear you loud and clear."

"Uhhh..." Dustin timidly piped up from the door. "Maybe this isn't a good idea, if...if Kas really can see everything--"

"It's fine," you dismissed.

Mary Victoria huffed beside you.

"Listen, you might as well talk," she said to Billy, to Kas. "Give us something. You're not going anywhere, and it's not like we're gonna break your knees or anything."

It was a joke. Of course it was a joke, it was how she dealt with stressful situations. But...it got you thinking.

"I mean, we could," you whispered.

Robin, Steve, and Dustin all reacted harshly, admonishing you, asking if you'd lost your mind. And maybe you had. For a brief moment, the memory of the minotaur's skull, mouth open in a perpetual scream, flashed before your eyes.

But triumph was too tempting.

So you locked that memory away. Used it as a motivation even. Worse things had been done for lesser causes. This was...

What was it?

What were you fighting for anymore? For Hawkins? For Eddie? For yourself?

...this was war.

"I mean he's tied up," you gestured to him. "Just like Mare said. Might as well."

"I don't know what you are besides...absolutely bonkers," Robin dismissed you, then looked to Mare. "But aren't you a nun? Aren't you supposed to...not...commit sins or something."

"I'm a novice," Mare shrugged. "I'll say a few Hail Mary's, it'll all be ok."

"That's...it's still Billy's body," Dustin tried to reason with you. "We're not here to torture him."

"Why not, maybe he can give us answers?" Mare disagreed.

"No!" Steve immediately tried to step between you and Billy, especially as he saw your hand reach for the knife on your belt. "No torture. That's not gonna give us answers; that's just gonna hurt him."

"What do you care?" you scoffed.

"He's a person. He's innocent."

Anger burned through you at the hypocrisy. Sure Billy was innocent when you wanted to take control of the situation, but they had no problem tying him up because of the potential danger.

"Billy is a vessel," you explained through gritted teeth. "A vessel for Kas. Just a suit. He isn't in there. Do you know that? None of you want to hear my explanations...fine. But just trust me...there isn't enough of Billy left spread across the entire universe for him to be in there. But Kas is. And we need answers. So I'm gonna get them."

"Then you're gonna go through me," Steve challenged you.

"Through us," Robin agreed and stepped beside him.

You rolled your eyes and clenched your fists.

"We don't have time for this."

"What if it's just a big misunderstanding," Dustin interjected again. "What if he's trying to get a message to us."

"What kind of message?" Mare questioned curiously.

"Fat fucking chance," you scoffed. "He's killing people. You said it yourself, he wants out. He's hungry. What's he gonna do if he can get to this side? Boom. Feast."

"No, Henderson's right," Steve agreed but you wouldn't be stopped.

"You were all for hunting him down a few hours ago."

"We were going to hunt the undead. The ones attacking the town."

"One chance at guessing who sends them to attack the town in the first place."

"Maybe he's just trying to get information from us in return? To make a plan?" Robin suggested.

"Yeah," Steve snapped his fingers at Robin in agreement. "Maybe that's all it is. He wants to get a message out. Wants to communicate and get information and make a plan but he chose Billy Hargrove and he's having a rough go of it. So why don't you just...do that thing? Jump into his mind. Talk to him that way. Like you did with Max."

"M-Max?"

The tension in the room broke and everyone looked at Billy.

Something changed.

You watched the transition happen, as one pupil constricted, then the other.

"M-m-Max," he stammered.

As his cheeks flushed. As Kas gave up control...and something else gained it back.

"No," you shook your head, unwilling to accept defeat. You pushed through Steve and Robin, and dove for Billy. You grabbed the sides of his head and looked directly into his eyes.

You clawed your way in. Desperately. Savagely. As though something deep inside of you yearned for it. And you knew you could do it, because he did it.

You became Billy Hargrove, for the briefest of moments.

You had met him once.

Met was a generous term.

A halloween party Eddie had dragged you to, one where Billy had behaved abysmally and then got too drunk to know up from down. You had seen him slip in the kitchen, heard the thunk when he hit the floor, and it had only been your intention to go and see if he needed help.

But when you touched his skin...the hollowness you felt there...it shook you.

A man fully living shouldn't have been hollow in that way.

Eddie had warned you after the encounter to stay as far away from Billy as you could, some irrational fear of the danger he might bring. But your fear of that hollowness had been enough to make you agree. 

He was dangerous...a man...and, you thought, a beast.

After you'd had enough time to process it though--after you'd encountered more people and gained life experience--you had come to an explanation. You likened it to scratches in wood, deep divots that had been carved out of his being, either by sadness or cruelty, his own or others you couldn't know. 

He was not hollow, it was just that someone had taken a little too much of him than his being could withstand giving.

You'd met plenty of people like that in your travels. Untouched by the supernatural, simply...irreparably damaged by the fact that they were too human to keep going.

Pair that with what you'd seen in Max's head, and it was no wonder he'd been an easy target for Vecna's dark ambitions.

It was why you had been wary of touching him when he collapsed on the grave. If he was already empty before he died...what would you find?

Now though...you had touched him. Dove into the depths of his mind, in a different way than you had with Max. You didn't just brush the edge of his mind to search his thoughts, you needed to be amongst his very being.

And lo...nothing again.

In fact, less than nothing...worse than nothing.

You were empty...empty...dying. Your limbs felt heavy and weak.

Then you realized.

You weren't breathing.

You took a deep breath and it felt like your lungs had expanded for the first time in centuries. They were stiff and crackling. Even so, the dank, stale air felt like a relief to breathe.

After several breaths you took stock of yourself. Not dying anymore. Living. Again.

You looked down at yourself; you still had some visage that was your own but when you clenched your hands, you couldn't feel. You watched your fingers move, willed them to do so, but couldn't feel the movement.

You wondered if it was a side effect of the resurrection. What did the dead feel after they died? Their spirits, you knew. Their bodies, a mystery.

Until Billy.

What a curious thing though...

He had already been emptied so thoroughly before he died. What was left to put back so he could return to the land of the living? What had come out of the grave with his body? What had Kas scratched from the bottom of the proverbial barrel to put back into him to get him to rise again?

You observed your surroundings then. You were in a desolate hallway, dark and filled with doors. They were all open, broken, and hanging off their hinges. Abandoned. Empty. Akin to something twisted and surreal that Dali might have imagined.

Suddenly footsteps echoed behind you--in front of you? Direction didn't exist here--and you spun to try and find the source.

There.

An open door with a faint light shining through it. You caught the slightest glimpse of a clawed hand grasping the door jamb before it disappeared within.

Fight or flight activated, you were quick to the chase.

Kas was here. He was still in here.

The ground beneath your feet was uneven, unstable. With no sense of self, you kept faltering, and you knew you couldn't continue to exist in this place for very long.

There were no physical limitations here, however. So you could cross great distances much faster than in the real world, and you reached the door much quicker than you might have in the real world.

You were gonna catch him, confront him, kill him right here and now.

But when you crossed through the threshold, you found...yourself.

Not a reflection; an actual duplicate of you.

All of your sense of urgency and anger dissolved.

And in its place, confusion took over.

She looked worn and disheveled. Clothes ripped. Split lip. Legs shaking as though it took all the effort in the world to stand.

Both of your eyes widened at the recognition of one another but before either of you could say anything, that clawed hand wrapped around her waist and tugged her through a tear in the ether. Her mouth opened in silent protest, her hand reached out, and she was gone.

And so was Kas.

The frustration returned and you let out a roar of expletives, ready to tear the room apart.

Only for a faint sound to capture your attention.

Across from you was another doorway...another room with brighter light this time. Almost blinding. Sun shining through an actual window.

You slowly crossed the distance and found a familiar figure crumpled on the floor, breath shallow, ropes around his wrists. He weakly tried to get to his feet and you did nothing but watch.

Your focus had been so singularly on Kas that you didn't realize that Billy would be in here too. A remnant. A revenant. His spirit torn...just like your own mirrored visage had been.

You rushed to help him, and when you did, you glanced through the window and saw yourself again. Bigger this time. Time frozen. Eyes locked.

Strange.

In your arms, Billy stirred.

"Who..." he spoke weakly, head resting on your shoulder. "Where..."

"It's ok," you reassured him, your conflicting emotions forgotten temporarily. "It'll be ok."

You summoned the strength inside of you, hoping you could access your body out there from...whatever you were in here, and you poured the healing light into him, until he could stand on his own.

Until he could scream.

"Max!"

You wrenched your hands away as you were thrown back into your body. Steve and Robin grabbed you as you backed away and Billy started struggling against the restraints again.

"Max, Max,” his voice got clearer and stronger. “Where is she? Is she safe?”

He grit his teeth and closed his eyes and pulled at the handcuffs. To everyone's surprise, the metal gave just the tiniest bit.

"We really should have used the duct tape," Robin muttered.

"Billy, everything's ok," Mary Victoria stepped around you and attempted to soothe him. She shot him a gentle smile and held her hands out in front of her to show she meant no harm. "Max is alright. She's at home. Safe."

He took a few deep breaths, eyes darting between hers, before he relaxed. He hung his head again.

"I don't...don't..." He made a whining noise. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" Mare repeated. "What don't you know?"

"She cried over me. But I don't know her. Who is Max?"

Mare whipped around to look at you and you sighed wearily and shook your head. You didn't even know what to think at this point.

Clearly everything you knew was wrong.

"What do you remember then Billy?" she asked.

"I..." his brow furrowed in concentration.

Contemplation.

"Don't," you spoke up and his gaze shot to you, then to your knife, and back. You shrugged Robin and Steve off of you and held your hands out just like Mare did. "Don't strain yourself. It'll happen when it happens."

He nodded and wet his lips.

"I remember...Max hurt me too," he began. "Before. I scared her and she hurt me. Why did I do that?"

"What else?" Robin asked.

"The...I think he was here." Billy nodded over to Steve. "And I hurt him. I'm...I'm sorry..."

"Shit, never thought I'd hear Billy Hargrove apologize," Steve muttered in disbelief.

"Shut up Dingus."

"The beach. And a woman. A room...a diner. Silly Billy."

You'd heard that before too...an echo of the human parts of Billy that had been present in '84, despite the great gouges inside of him.

"She called me her Silly Billy."

"And you," he nodded towards you, and then his eyes got stormy. "And Eddie."

Mare looked to you again.

"Eddie, that's your..."

"My boyfriend, yeah," you nodded. "Halloween a few years ago. Eddie...roughed him up a little bit. Why would you remember that though?"

"Because it hurt," Billy strained, his voice hoarse. And despite the hoarseness, there was a clarity there. An understanding that you simply couldn't fathom he possessed given his state. But he did. And you know it was because Kas made him aware, and that simple fact burned you.

"What else would he let me remember?"

"What are you thinking?"

"I don't know...a lot of things."

"About Billy?"

"...no."

There was a pause and the mattress glub-glubbed as Mary Victoria shifted on the waterbed.

"About Eddie?" she asked, peeking down at you as you laid on the floor.

"No," you responded truthfully, startled that it was probably the first time he wasn't on your mind. "About Kas."

She sighed.

"Listen, maybe you need to let this Kas thing go," she offered. "Focus on fixing things here first. That was your plan right? To help get Hawkins back on its feet."

"I can only fix things here if I stop him," you replied. "Otherwise he's just gonna make them worse again. And he knows it. That's why he's after me now."

"After you?"

"You heard me before, when he was...possessing Billy. He's sending things after me. To kill me, probably. One of the vampires--"

"I thought you said they weren't vampires."

"--and then a demogorgon when I was out visiting Wayne. And now...now Billy himself."

"Why?"

"I'm a thorn in his side, why else?"

"Could be anything else," Mare offered. She was quiet for a moment, then she continued. "Maybe you think he wants to stop you. What if Dustin is right? What if he needs you? What if he needs your help too?"

"Then he could ask! What are these games, just ask for my help. Simple as that." You watched as she gnawed at her lip. "What is it?"

"I don't...I don't know. I have a theory. Maybe. I just need to think through it for a little bit. Let it bubble like a stew. Could be something; is probably nothing. But maybe this...this is all he can do. He's calling, you're just not listening."

You stared at each other for a moment, and she looked incredibly unsure of herself. You could sense the words that were coming next. Forget it, forget I said anything and you stopped her before she could.

"Maybe you're right," you admitted with a sigh. "I know I was quick to jump on the let's kill Kas train of thought. But can you blame me? There are rules. And he's breaking them."

"He probably doesn't know them."

"You're right, probably not. But neither do you." It was your turn to feel apprehensive now. Guilty. Instead of defensive; you turned into a bitch when you got defensive. "How are you doing? I haven't checked on you really. I'm sorry."

"You've only been a fucking mess yourself," Mare sniffed judgmentally and then winked. "Can't really blame you though. I'm...handling it."

"Not overwhelmed yet?"

"Most certainly overwhelmed," she disagreed. "But not enough to quit."

"Good."

"You can make it up to me next time."

"Next time?"

"Yeah...you're not getting rid of me that easily."

"And what if I die here Mare?" The words escaped your mouth instinctually before you realized they had, and you both froze. You especially, your mind going a million miles an hour. "I mean..."

What did you mean?

What did you mean?

"You know, this whole thing...this whole curse is supposed to end in fire for me anyway," you shrugged. "It could happen any time and this...Hawkins is personal. I know I'm not being as careful as I would any other time. I mean, look at me already. What if I die here?

"What if...what if your theory...whatever it is...is wrong? What if everyone is wrong and Kas just needs to be stopped and I'm not strong enough and I die?"

You said it all in one breath and heaved by the time it was all out.

"Are you afraid?" she asked after a beat. "Of death?"

"Not enough to stop doing this dumb shit, apparently."

"You said you wanted...wanted to break this curse...for Eddie."

"I do."

"So are you afraid of dying? Of leaving him? Is that why you're telling me?"

"I'm afraid..." you paused. "I'm afraid I've brought you all this way and I'm gonna leave you to fend for yourself. I'm afraid that I'm gonna leave Hawkins worse off than I found it. I'm afraid...I'm afraid of leaving him alone because losing me will hurt him more."

She reached out a hand and you met her halfway to grasp it. Tightly. Desperately.

And you thought...you thought she'd do what she had been doing. Thought that she would offer some comfort or some words of wisdom to make you feel better.

He's in Heaven and he's waiting. He's waiting for you.

"What if he isn't in Heaven?" she asked, face entirely serious. She gripped your hand tightly. "What if he's in Hell? And all of this...is for nothing? You do all of this...you break your curse...and you're still alone?"

You could hear them then, a thousand years of your bloodline screaming what should have been the answer in your ears. Your grandfather. Your father. Fuck, even your grandmother who had no curse upon her but spent her life and all her goodness to prevent your damnation.

And then you thought of Wayne…his words. The way you tried to deny them.

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

Your throat tightened, but the response was easy.

"I guess I'll see him in Hell then."

You'd never seen him cry before.

Well, you had.

But not here. Not in this place.

Seeing the blood drip down his cheeks shook you to the core.

"Was it not enough?" he sniffed pathetically. "Why wasn't it enough?"

What could you say to that?

There would never be enough.

Not until you could save him. If you could ever save him.

How could you fill an empty cup...when the pitcher was empty too?

He roared when he didn't receive an answer, startling you.

"What did you expect to happen?" you asked wearily. Even if you couldn't help him, you could attempt to alleviate his woes. Just like you always had. That was your purpose: a balm to his soul, a buffer. "You couldn't control the others at the beginning."

"And I can't control them now either, can I?"

"They're willful."

"Aren't they."

"But so are you." He scoffed, but you continued. "And you're cunning. You have a plan."

"You have plans. Plans that fail, if you haven't noticed." He slashed at you with his claws, lashing out, but you appeared on the other side of him instead.

"You just need to try again," you offered sagely.

"And what good would that do?"

That was when the tide changed.

You'd been through if before but...there was no before that was quite like this. Something was so minutely different this time that you didn't realize it until it was too late.

His mind raced, his mouth raced faster, as he voiced his thoughts and put them forth into this dastardly dimension. If things were better, it would have reminded you of all the times he voiced his harebrained schemes. All of the silly little plans he had for the two of you.

Instead, they began to take shape, dark tangible things that you simply couldn't keep up with. Couldn't put to sleep as fast as they were brought to life.

Further and further into temptation--desperation--he went, and the more you tried to hold him back, the more he resisted.

You thought it was him, succumbing to the darkness once again. Drifting over the edge but then the realization came.

It was you.

"Why are you still here? Why? You act like you're here to help... but you're a burden. You've...you've ruined it. Ruined everything! I have to fix it. I have to."

He slashed again and you could suddenly feel it. For the first and only time. You felt it carve through you. Not painfully, not really. But the space where he would have run you through...disappeared.

You disappeared.

You'd done it on purpose before. Countless times. Disappeared into the void of him. Back where you belonged. But this time...this time he made you go. He dispelled you.

How long had it been, how long had you tried. How much had you given to him, to sustain him, with no hope of ever getting it back. He took from you. Took and took and took. It could have been a day or an eternity.

Suddenly there's no possible way to cling onto this reality, to hold him back from careening over the edge into darkness. Because you found yourself falling as well.

Lost.

You tried to do it on your own for so long, but now it was truly the end. You'd always known it would come. You'd worked so hard, you hoped you could save him before it came to this.

You needed her now...just as much as he did.

Lost.

You reached out one last time as his shoulders heaved, as the thick red tears ran rivers down his skin. Fingers brushed over his cheeks, his eyelids, his lips.

A farewell.

You melted into him one last time; you'd wait until you were well enough to return, whole once again.

You could rest now. What a relief.

Lost.

October 14, 1987

Having an alliance with others was a strange concept to you.

Although you did most of your work alone, it was not out of the realm of possibility to have a partner from time to time. Partner. Singular. They were few and far between, though. And for all intents and purposes, in Hawkins, that was Mary Victoria.

Your right-hand-man, your conscience when you were led astray, responsible to make sure the other didn't get killed.

Now, suddenly, there was a whole team that had your back. Mare, obviously...but Steve, Dustin, and Robin too.

It felt like an episode of the Brady Bunch.

Was this what it felt like to have siblings?

"Friends," Mare rolled her eyes when you made the comment to her. "They're called friends."

For an entire day, you all lurked around the Harrington's with the acute knowledge that you had a shared secret and that you'd have each other's backs any time someone potentially came close to finding it out.

Steve was the main person to run out to the garage whenever someone needed something. It was his house, after all; no one questioned it if he wanted to roam around at will or if he wanted some areas off limits.

Food was the next hurdle; Claudia did a great job working with limited supplies to feed an entire house of friends and neighbors. But sneaking an entire extra helping was challenging. Dustin was often the person to keep his mother distracted while extra bits of mashed potatoes or casserole were scooped onto a plate. And then you and Mare brought the food out to Billy, taking turns feeding him and keeping watch.

You all had agreed that you needed to keep him tied up and in the garage. It was just too risky, especially with Kas potentially lurking somewhere deep in his mind.

But Billy barely said anything when you went to visit, barely even acknowledged someone else was there short of opening his mouth for a bite of food.

Mare wondered, at first, if that meant Kas was back. It didn't take much for you to realize that no, Billy was the only one in there. He was just...disinterested. Disoriented.

Recollecting the mismatched pieces of a puzzle that he had no idea how to put back together.

He had moments of recollection sometimes, as he began to shuffle those pieces around. He'd make...parts of a picture, but not enough to discern anything truly useful. He'd ask about people sometimes. Mostly about Max. Ask if he could see her, which Steve harshly declined.

"Not a chance," he scoffed. "You think I'm gonna let him near Max? Any of those kids? After everything they've been through? Over my dead body."

"Maybe it'll help," Mare suggested. "With the memories. To see his sister. For them to talk."

"You wanna know the first time I knew Billy was Max's brother? Hmm?" Steve put his hands on his hips and looked at her expectantly. "When he beat the shit out of me, could've killed me. Max had to knock him out with a tranquilizer to get him to stop."

"Holy shit."

"So no, even though he seems innocent...different, he's not getting near those kids."

And then Billy would go nearly catatonic once again, back to shuffling the pieces around until he could make sense of himself again.

Another meal. Another bout of silent chewing and half-present responses. Another opportunity for Mare to try and coax him out of his shell.

"It takes time," you explained.

"How much time?"

"I...I don't know. Enough."

"Well," Mare sighed and loaded up a spoon to feed him. "Guess we're just gonna have to help him get there." From that point, she always tried to get a response out of him.

Mainly, by making airplane noises as she fed him.

"It's funny," she defended.

"It's infantilizing," you chuckled from your place at the door.

"I mean...it's still kinda funny," she shrugged, sending another biplane full of pot roast and veggies onto the next mission in Billy's digestive tract.

"We don't need funny. We need him to see he can trust us." You looked past her at Billy then, realizing that he might have been sick of being spoken about as if he wasn't just sitting there. "You can trust us, you know? When you're ready."

He just blinked at you.

"Maybe...maybe to start feeling alive again, he just needs to hear our life stories too," she sat up straight and cleared her throat. "Hi Billy. My name is Mary Victoria. I was born in a small town in Nebraska--"

And on it went.

Breakfast, lunch, and dinner for two whole days.

You bounced around different topics, trying to get Billy to react to something. Anything. California, sports, the supernatural, politics, action movies, musicals. And he did. Sometimes there were just sighs or a huff that sounded adjacent to a laugh. No rhyme or reason to what it was he reacted to. Just...a reaction.

Better than nothing.

“…and then Mr. Perkins said 'nobody waves anymore' and Steve joked 'it's because we're not near the ocean.' And I thought it was funny," Mare put her hand on her chest. "But Robin just rolled her eyes."

Billy made a long-suffering sigh as he chewed his creamed spinach.

"I know, it wasn't funny," you agreed with him, then you glanced over at her. "It wasn't funny."

"It was! I like corny jokes!"

"Obviously."

"Do you think they're dating?" she asked, suddenly, out of left field. "Robin and Steve?"

"Uhhhh."

You didn't really know how to respond to that. Billy, the most reactive that he had been in the past few days, scoffed. Or sneezed maybe.

"Why do you ask?"

"I don't know, they seem close," she shrugged. You narrowed your eyes at her. "He's cute. I wouldn't put it past him to have a girlfriend or something. End of the world and all...and there's this...I don't know it's gonna sound silly."

"What is it?"

"Ok, disclaimer, I'm not going crazy." She pointed at you in warning. "Remember that. I just...whenever they're around each other, there's this string. It isn't there. I don't see it. But it's...I just know it's there. I notice it with a lot of people, actually. Especially here."

Interesting.

"What kind of answer do you want?" you asked her and leaned back in your chair. "The one you want to hear or the long one?"

Mare groaned and rolled her head back.

"Knight Lesson 102," you offered her. "Or, more fitting, like...Nun Graduation Revelation."

"But moooommmmm." She stomped her feet a little. "Can you do a worse job of reminding me that I'm not supposed to feel any kind of...attraction towards anyone. Married to God and all of that."

"You didn't take your vow yet."

"Whose. Side. Are. You. On!"

She clapped to emphasize every word.

"Long answer first," you began with a laugh. "Everyone here has a connection that spans what the eye can see. Those strings you feel, did you also feel them between Steve and Dustin? Robin and Nancy? Hell, even between us and them now, those bonds are forming.

"The Moche civilization in Peru believed that your life-force flowed through you and into others the more you shared yourself with them. And vice versa. Through conversation, through dance, through love and friendship. You make connections with everyone you meet and become a complex web of the people whose lives you touch. It's what gives us empathy."

"So that means I'm still connected with my douche ex. Great."

"Yes and no. Yes, because he's left his mark on your life and you wouldn't be you without him. But also no because you both severed that tie a long time ago."

She seemed to accept that answer.

"What about Robin and Steve then?"

"Do I think they're dating?" You asked for clarity and she nodded. "I don't know, how could I? But you can sense their bond is stronger than others, right? I thought they were siblings when I felt the connection between them. I think they just...will walk through life on a shared path for a very long time."

"Sounds like fate," she snorted. "Or soulmates or something."

"Soul..." Billy rasped, the unexpected sound causing you both to jump.

He jolted in his chair against the restraints, coughing and spitting and gagging. The convulsions lead to all manner of bodily sounds emanating from him.

"What the..!" Mare exclaimed. "What's happening to him?

"I don't..." You shook your head. "I don't know."

The anticipation was the worst. In fact, you anticipated the worst. You had thought, initially, that it was Kas trying to jump back into his body, and you could be ready at the very least. Ready to confront him, ready to jump back into Billy's mind in order to grasp Kas with your own two hands.

But you didn't anticipate nearly enough.

The food came up first. Days worth of food. It wasn't Exorcist-adjacent pea soup; it was undigested, save for chewing, and mostly whole. It spewed from his mouth violently and you both backed away as chunks landed near your feet.

"What the fuck dude!"

"Can you heal him or something?"

"I can try."

"Yes, please, try. Jesus fucking Christ."

You took a step forward, hand already outstretched so you could take a hold of him, but he spewed the last bits of foot and bile, right in your path and you jumped before it could hit you.

The dirt was next. He choked on it before he erupted.

Dust, then pebbles, then thick clumps of wet earth. It clatters and splats all around you. You dodged a hailstorm of bits and pieces, the likes of which would put the blast of Mount Saint Helens to shame, and then watched in horror as a slow, constant flow rolled and dripped from his mouth. Like magma.

Tears flowed down his cheeks and he spat to clear his airway, only for more gravel to be expelled.

"Are we sure he isn't the Antichrist or something?" Mare grabbed your arm, and pulled you back to her. To protect you or herself, you couldn't be sure.

"That isn't a thing." Although you couldn't be sure of that either.

"Then how do you explain all of this? What the hell is happening?"

You didn't know. It was beyond you.

You tried to race through everything that you'd read and heard of and seen. Dream interpretation and superstitions and cautionary tales. Your mind conjured images, interpretations of God vomiting angels and expelling them from Heaven and into Hell, another of Him spewing dirt to create the Earth itself, and a third of Zeus freeing his siblings from the belly of the dreadful Kronos.

Let alone the symbolism. You didn't have time to analyze all of it.

If you had a hundred years, if you could stop the flow of time, maybe you could come up with some idea of what this was and how to stop it.

"Help me!" He sobbed around mouthfuls of dirt and dust. "Please."

Instead you needed to act, react, as fast as you could.

"Help him!" Mary Victoria screamed.

You took the steps forward again to try and use your healing power to stop this, but you recoiled for the briefest of seconds, as Billy's eyes dilated again and blood began to leak from his dear ducts.

Kas.

But Billy wrenched his eyes shut and screamed, deep and guttural and painful.

"GET OUT!"

You didn't hesitate to take two fingers, slot them into his forehead, jamming his third eye chakra.

"Sleep," you commanded.

And his eyes rolled back in his head as his body stilled.

You left your fingers there, as the last little bits of dirt dripped from Billy's mouth and bounced down his chest and to the ground. You tried to feel him, heal him, but you felt...

Nothing.

His body was still, you couldn't fathom where the dirt and the Earth came from. There was no supernatural cause. The fragmented pieces of him remained as intact as they could be; he, for all intents and purposes, was whole. Even the connection to Kas in his mind had been severed, you felt no pathway leading to the Upside Down or its Master.

Strange.

You wondered if it had anything to do with his resurrection, if somehow the act of crawling from the ground had caused something to settle within Billy that he needed to regurgitate to finally and fully return to life. Maybe if you touched the wet earth that had been expelled from him you could feel some kind of psychometric evidence of its origins. And know what had caused it. The way God could feel Abel's blood scream from the earth after it was spilt.

Was this how Kas had resurrected all of them? Had their rebirths been just as violent?

Frantic footsteps made it to your ears then, voices clamoring over one another at the door. You and Mary Victoria turned as the knob jiggled and Dustin and Steve's voice overlapped with another.

You expected a shitstorm. An argument.

You expected Nancy.

You steeled yourself for her. Expected her. Hardened your heart so that you didn't burn with the sting of her venom.

But as the door was thrown open, all you saw was betrayal in a pair of innocent eyes.

"What on Earth," Claudia stared at the scene before her, horrified, her attention unable to fully land on one thing, "is happening here?"

And you didn't know what was scarier.

Everything you had just witnessed.

Or her disappointment.

“I’m coming with you.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Ok so maybe I'm not but you don’t need to leave.”

“I think it’s better if I do.”

“No one asked you to go. You don’t have to do this self-sacrificing thing.” Mary Victoria snorted.

“This isn’t self-sacrifice,” you retorted. Hands on hips, you turned to her. “Or have you not read the Bible. Exile. It’s kind of a thing.”

Claudia was…concerned.

Disappointed, yes, that you all had kept Billy a secret. But concern was the main reaction once you’d all sat down to explain how he came to be in the Harringtons garage.

And alive.

She didn’t raise her voice, didn’t yell. She wasn’t angry.

She wrung her hands and her voice wavered as she formulated questions and responses. Her eyes kept sliding over to Dustin, who would take her hand in his and reassure her.

It’s ok mom. We have a plan. Don’t be afraid.

Claudia looked to everyone for confirmation. To Steve and Robin, even Mare. But when she got to you, her eyes only held betrayal.

You were good at what you did. Probably, no one had really ever told you that you were shit. Cursed? Yes. A snarky bitch, a meddler, a loudmouth, etcetera etcetera. But bad at defeating darkness? Never.

You knew you could protect innocents. But what was the point if you didn't...protect innocence.

And that’s when you decided you needed to go. To give them some space without your bullshit.

“Self imposed.” Mare rolled her eyes. “Like an asshole.”

“It's really not the insult you think it is,” you explained. “I’m just going to stay with Wayne. I’ll be back tomorrow morning to take Billy on a drive and maybe knock a few marbles loose—”

“Careful. He doesn’t have that many marbles to begin with.”

“—then we can continue the work on your Knight lessons ok?”

"And save Hawkins?" she followed up and you shot her a strained smile. "Yeah. Sounds good."

"Stick close with the people we trust," you nodded towards the group of your friends who had congregated at the door to witness your temporary exodus. "Don't let them do anything to Billy, and most importantly, keep yourself safe."

"I thought you'd be back tomorrow."

"A lot can happen in one night."

You threw your bag into the backseat of your car and Mare pulled you into a hug.

"You be careful too, ok? No going out after curfew, even if you see something shiny luring you out into the woods," she cautioned.

"I'll be f--"

"You're incapable of staying out of trouble. And I know if you're not careful you're gonna get yourself killed. It's like you're tempted by danger or something."

"Who's the mom now," you joked.

"Shut up."

And then you were off. Back across Hawkins to Wayne and Lover's Lake.

You forewent the radio this time, opting to drive in silence and listen to the whistling wind and any potential wing flapping. The whole radio feedback misfiring happened twice more since the little mishap with Sympathy for the Devil and you decided that 3 strikes so music was just off the table for you for the foreseeable future. And as much as you'd like to have listened to Fats Waller crooning on that old mixtape Eddie made you, about how dark and stormy it was inside this heart of mine, you listened to the distant thunder as an actual storm moved in instead.

"Great," you muttered and stepped on the gas a little faster so you wouldn't have rain pelting you in the face, thanks to your non-existent windshield.

That was gonna be a bitch to fix.

The windshield, probably part of the frame. On top of the air conditioning was already long gone and the heat on its last leg. Power steering had gone out once as you were driving through the Rockies. That had been fun to find a place to fix.

You were just old enough to remember your grandfather bringing the car home, brand new. Of course at that time you didn't understand. You just liked standing on the bench seat with your hands on the steering wheel going vroom vroom. The whole family took a drive.

It felt like such a normal memory in comparison to...literally the rest of your life.

Then a few weeks later, he was gone. And so was your dad, replaced by your father.

Nonna wore a set of black robes that first year--from which, came the tasseled cord belt that hung from the rearview mirror--to mourn her husband and son, and then to dedicate herself to your salvation. And Mom had been the one who started taking the car out for joyrides to escape from her bleak reality instead. She’d taught you how to drive, taught you how to question your faith--question yourself--in the car.

It was a strange, contradictory symbol of destiny, denial, and devotion.

And then when you skipped town, temporarily dodged your fate, the car became your problem.

Your problem that was now navigating broken streets and taking detours to avoid another fissure that seemed to have opened up overnight.

That wasn't there a few days ago...

In fact several streets seemed to be inaccessible when they'd just been clear just the other night. And the further you got in your detour, the worse it got, until the road seemed to literally shake and split right beneath your tires.

"What the fuck," you muttered as you swerved around a crack that was actively forming beneath you. "Why do I feel like I've jinxed myself? A lot can happen in one night. Fuck me."

Your headlights flickered and thunder cracked overhead.

And as you rounded another bend, your car, quite literally, died.

It was like a wave, a tangible spark, an electrical overload. The headlights flickered, and the radio turned on of its own volition and wavered to an ear-splitting screech that almost, almost sounded like your name, and then it died. Everything died. An audible power down of the electrical system before your engine sputtered out and your car rolled to a stop on the side of the road by some trees.

You turned the key in the ignition. Once, twice, stepped on the pedal. Nothing.

Until your right hand began to tingle. Burn.

You wrenched your hand off the key and used your other hand to press down into the space between your life and head lines, trying to massage out the pain. It felt...beyond your being. It felt heavy. There was something in there. A weight. Could you dig it out? Dig a hole into your hand and dig the hot burning thing out?

You were a fan of horror movies, of action movies. Media was one of the few indulgences that you were allowed to have growing up. Books and movies instead of friends. Breaks in between learning about real life fantasies and terrors to entertain yourself with made up ones.

It made things a little boring sometimes, sure. You always knew when a jumpscare was about to happen. Could tell when the plot was about to reach a climax. You'd ruined a few movies for Eddie and the guys before. Even spoiled one for your own father on the rare occasion he'd been around.

So it almost felt too predictable that the broken ground just a few yards away from you began to split further. As the smoke emanated from it. As the gate began to pulse and glow ominously, in time with the heavy, burdensome pain in your hand.

As a clawed hand slithered over the edge.

"Well shit," you cursed through gritted teeth. You kicked open the door and rounded on the trunk. You fumbled with the latch with one hand, threw it open and then dug. You'd already fucked around with your weapons the other day when you and the others went vampire hunting and then they'd all been thrown back in haphazardly.

You needed a stake, a knife, something.

"Least if I die here in Hawkins, I don't need to get another car."

A crucifix got tucked in the waistband of your jeans. The revolver loaded with silver bullets shoved back there too--what gun safety?--and you'd managed to shove the blade of a knife between your teeth to hold for a second, when you were assaulted by a cacophony of sound.

Wings flapped heavily, a jarring screech that made your blood run cold, and then the laughter.

It was taunting you.

Heavy footsteps dragged on the pavement, one after the other. Closer and closer.

"Are you hiding from me?" the reedy voice cooed patronizingly. "That's cute. You can't hide. Not when I can feel the fresh blood coursing through your veins."

There was a deep inhaling noise; slightly slurred, like a breath taken through clenched teeth. Then a loud flapping and suddenly the voice was on the other side of the car.

"Delicious."

Your eyes scanned over the contents of the trunk, thoughts swirling as you wondered how you could cause the most damage and buy yourself the most time.

If it was cruel irony that your car would die and you'd be attacked in the middle of the forest after you told Mare that a lot could happen in one night, then this was just some kind of karmic intervention.

The jar of peppers.

You knew it was a weird, unfamiliar thing that she'd just latched onto because she wasn't used to it and it seemed funny, but superstition was real. And a jar full of peppers, garlic, vinegar and holy water--maybe some other mystical whispers from 20 years ago thrown in if you were lucky--would surely do some damage.

You were almost sad Mare wouldn't be here to see it in action.

You grabbed it and shuffled closer to the edge of the trunk, as close as you could to peek to the side and witness him stalk closer to you.

A smug, elongated smile and demonic black eyes just like the others had. His skin was grey and stretched over his bones, and the tattered remnants of a sweater vest and chinos, of all things, adorned his body. One clawed hand was pulled back, as if ready for an attack as he got close enough, as were his wings.

And most prominently, a scar stretched across one cheekbone.

"Oh Fred," you taunted around the blade in your mouth. "I'm not a cheap date."

You shuffled to the side swiftly and threw the jar at him. It shattered upon impact with his head and doused him in the spicy, spiritual mixture, sizzling and burning his skin. Watching it filled you with a sense of triumph; finally, the slightest bit of an upper hand on Kas, who you were sure was behind this whole mishap.

He definitely was.

Fred was not as fragile as Barb had been though, and he already started to heal once the shock wore off, so you knew you had to act fast to finish him off.

Bloodthirsty, the revolver was in your hand before you could stop it and you let off one shot after another. They ripped through him, tore chunks from torso and his wings until you heard the click click click of the empty barrel.

You thought--you hoped--the handful of bullets would be enough and maybe you'd get lucky and puncture his heart.

Unfortunately you were not lucky. It wasn't even luck. You were not a good shot to begin with--as demonstrated by the fucking crossbow--and even if you were pretty ambidextrous, you favored your right hand. Which, thanks to the heavy nagging pain that coursed through it, meant you were at a disadvantage.

Still, Fred faltered and roared in agony as his body expelled the bullets. He tried to flee, but you wouldn't let him. His wings flapped uselessly when it came to flight but he still used them he propelled himself through the trees, with you close on his heels.

Thunder boomed overhead as you ran and it soon began to downpour. The dirt became mud and your sneakers slid as you pivoted and turned, struggling to keep up with him.

Despite being wounded, he would have the advantage. You were only human, despite your abilities. And you were a human that hated running. So all he had to do was flap his wings a little harder, or scurry up the trunk of a tree...and you'd lose him.

You slowed your pace and came to a stop, then noticed...your surroundings seemed familiar.

You wiped the rain from your face and looked around. The trees were less dense here; actually, several had been knocked down entirely, trunks covered in deep scratches and splinters. The forest floor covered in dead leaves. And there was one tree that looked...magical in and of itself. With moss and mushrooms and an assortment of sticks and...yarn.

A shelter against the elements, almost.

You jumped as something brushed against your leg and then you laughed to find a tiny little face looking up at you, entirely unamused at your antics. Big green eyes, whiskers twitching, grey fur damp with the rain; her tail flicked back and forth curiously. This was her kingdom, after all; why were you here?

"Hello," you muttered and wracked your brain for a minute. You'd met this cat before, early on in your relationship with Eddie; he'd taken you out here to meet her and her kittens, to feed them like he did with the other resident cats of Forest Hills. You'd made a joke, thanks to all of the downed trees, that she was some elusive cryptid.

"Don't need to knock down any trees when big, scary metalhead Eddie Munson is bringing you Chicken of the Sea, huh?"

"You wanna get married or something?"

"Fuck you Munson."

Your heart ached at the recollection, at the sweet innocent declaration that...that would never come to pass.

"Lucy," you cooed, basking in that memory. "Queen Lou."

You knelt down and offered your left hand in greeting, but she swiftly dodged and pressed her head into your right hand. The heavy pain and throbbing dissipated almost immediately as she nuzzled and purred. But the pain in your heart remained.

"You out here by yourself?" you asked. You looked around in realization; the trailer park must not have been far off. "Or did you come back here to see what the commotion was? Sorry about that."

Lucy lavished in your attention for a few moments, enjoying your scratches behind her soft, damp ears and then she startled. She turned, hackles raised and you were suddenly on alert too. Wings flapped wetly overhead and she bolted to chase after whatever creature fled.

"Shit," you muttered and began to follow. You might have joked that she was a monster but she was most certainly just a tiny little kitty. Definitely not equipped to fight an...undead bat thing.

But damn, she was quick.

The trees got more and more sparse until you were in the condemned remnants of the Forest Hills Trailer Park itself.

Fuck, it was bleak.

Out of all the damage you had seen in Hawkins, the aftermath of two "earthquakes," this was the worst.

Most of the buildings looked intact just...abandoned. Doors left open and swinging, laundry left to rot on the line. The brightly colored remnants of FEMA markers spraypainted on the sides of the trailers were especially vibrant against the grey sky. The ground was uneven and cracked, great plates of earth tilted this way and that to compensate for the thick, cavernous crack that carved through the center of the park. Soil was overturned and cursed smoke bled into the sky, though the rain kept it from rising too far.

You wondered if the veil between this world and the Upside Down was the thinnest here. This was, after all, the place where Vecna first punctured his way through with his Curse.

A hiss gained your attention and you kept going, following Lucy despite the dread getting larger in your chest. Further into the park until it opened a cavernous maw that bore your heart to the world as you found yourself in front of the Munson's half-destroyed trailer.

The frame of the trailer was shorn apart, walls and siding jagged as the origin point of the gate started in what used to be the living room. Wayne had confided in you, about Chrissy; how he'd found her body, mangled in a way that would forever be burned behind his eyelids.

You hadn't realized at the time that Chrissy had been the vampire from the square. The one who had tried to carry you away. Would it have taken some weight off his mind to know she was...alive? If you could call it that? Did he already know? Or would it add insult to injury knowing this was a worse fate for her?

A soft brrr and your eyes zeroed in on Lucy sitting on the counter in the kitchen, the open mouth of the trailer exposing it to the elements. She watched you for a second before she jumped off the counter and disappeared down the hall leading to Eddie's room.

It was then that the ghosts decided to appear.

You crawled up the side of the trailer, on the half-demolished porch steps and into the kitchen. There the two of you stood, huddled next to the stove, arms around each other as you waited for the water to boil for hot cocoa and marshmallows; so stupidly affectionate after making up from one of a dozen dumb fights. The ghosts disappeared as you passed, and suddenly there was no pan on the stove. There wasn't even a stove anymore. The wall of mugs gone. Even the doors on the cabinets were half-broken.

You continued down the hall, where you could hear your own fists pounding on the side door on that fateful night. After you crawled from the Earth after the tunnels collapsed, the only place you knew you'd find comfort was here. Was with Eddie.

Was that why Kas had chosen to resurrect Billy in such a way? To mirror your own ascent, crawling from Hell? Born anew?

The phantom of Eddie ran out of his bedroom and opened the door for you, and you collapsed against him sobbing. You watched as he held you, soothed you, wiped the dirt off your skin and promised it would all be ok. And as he kissed your forehead, they were gone.

There shouldn't have been electricity, it should have been the first thing FEMA cut off...but a light flickered in the bathroom.

On and off and on and off and on.

On. Off. On. Off. On.

On and off and on and off and on.

You stared at it, felt your throat get tight.

You blinked, hard, and the bulb over the sink exploded.

It wouldn't misfire anymore.

If only you'd have investigated that a little further, just to save yourself the heartache that awaited you in the bedroom.

Because as soon as you stepped over the threshold, you became overwhelmed. This was where you spent so much time together, why wouldn't the ghost be active and abundant here?

Sitting on the floor by the stereo listening to mixtapes. Sleeping, talking, writing, laughing. There was one of you pacing at the foot of the bed. One of him running through the door with a bag of McDonalds French fries for you to share. A set of you in the bed, limbs intertwined, whispering words of devotion as your bodies became one.

You stared at them the longest, eyes burning because you refused to blink.

Once you did they would be gone and you would be alone again. Alone with the person you hated the most in the world: yourself.

The you in your mind would always have her Eddie, but the you here would never have him again.

You ached to be back there.

What you wouldn't give to be back there, back there with him. Turn back the clock and say damn Hawkins, damn destiny, damn the world. You would sooner rip out your own heart than follow Gabriel to the tunnels that night in November of 84. The words, the oath, the fire, the dirt. Why did you go there when you could have come back here?

You could hear Gabriel's stupid voice echoing in your head, words that he'd repeated too many times after you'd ask him why, when, how you could come back to Hawkins, back to Eddie.

"Godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation and leaves no regret. Worldly sorrow brings death."

"Then I would rather die," you hissed now, aloud, as you watch the ghosts reach the pinnacle of pleasure and melt into each other. A great, glorious being with two heads and four arms, four legs, and one heart.

You held the tears at bay for as long as you could until you shut your eyes. The ghosts began to evaporate around you, whispered words faded into the din of the rain outside, until it was silent.

Until you were alone again.

You didn't want to open your eyes again, didn't want to face reality again, but when you did...you found a pile of cassettes on the ground.

You kicked them, gently, nudged them with your toe. Almost as though you expected them to disappear too.

And when they didn't, you knelt down and looked through them.

You should have been looking for Lucy. And further still, you should have been trying to find Fred before he healed too much and disappeared back through the gate, if he hadn't already. But curiosity got the better of you.

But no one was here to judge you. Wayne wasn't here to catch you snooping, wanting the last little remnants of Eddie that you could latch onto before you walked away and left the trailer to rot. Sure, you had asked Wayne and you could ask him more, but it was the little things that he didn't know, the secret things that were only between the two of you, that you hungered for again.

So you moved around his room and dug through the little piles of abandoned objects, blew off layers of dust, and scraped the tiniest bit of psychometric energy off them and directly into your heart.

Eddie screamed "this is music" when Robin called his tapes shit, that he needed real music. How many times had he said that to you when you'd attempt to put one of your tapes in?

A loaf of bread that, now, was just a moldy, desiccated mess. But a brush of your fingers over the plastic brought an Eddie sitting on the floor quietly tinkering away on an original song and getting hungry for PB&J.

Postcards and posters and random bits ripped out from magazines all scattered across his dresser and then tucked into the side of the mirror...two tickets.

Ozzy Osbourne with Special Guest Metallica Tuesday April 8, 1986 7:30PM Market Square Arena

Tears built up in your eyes as you ran your fingers over the faded ink.

The tickets being handed over to Eddie and Jeff who then started screaming on the sidewalk in front of the box office, how Eddie refused to let Jeff keep his ticket.

"Nah man, I'll keep them safe. With my life."

Talking about it to Wayne once a week, how they'd have to miss a set at the Hideout but it was ok. How often did you get to see Ozzy and Metallica?

Him practicing songs from the new album every night in front of the mirror, every night for 3 weeks since its release all while staring at the tickets and his eyes drifted up to...

You frowned, and concentrated.

Eddie's eyes drifted up from the tickets to...

You moved your hand off the tickets until you touched the glass of the mirror; something had been there.

Eddie walked into his bedroom in a daze, clutching a tiny piece of paper in his hand. No...not paper. It was stiffer...card stock. There were tears in his eyes, but a smile on his lips.

You gasped and pulled your hand from the mirror. You immediately dug into your pocket and pulled the same piece of cardstock, the one you'd fumbled with at Rick's when you didn't want Wayne to know you were snooping. It had come from here.

No.

It had come from you.

You hadn't tried to pick emotions from it before, hadn't tried to lift memories, but now you were primed for it. Images flashed before your eyes.

Of you standing in front of a drugstore Christmas card display debating yourself for the perfect one, agonizing as you sat at the little desk in a motel room wondering just what to write. Could you tell him where you'd been? How much you missed him? Beg him to wait for you, again? To keep waiting?

In the end you knew you couldn't say anything, just a heart.

Of Eddie eagerly opening the card, recognizing your handwriting and the little butt-shaped heart you drew inside. Of his hope that he poured onto the paper that you hadn't abandoned him, hadn't forgotten him. He'd just have to wait. He'd wait forever. And every day he'd kiss his fingers and strum the strings of his beloved guitar and then press those same fingers to the cartoonish little mug of hot cocoa on the front of your card.

Wayne had said he'd taken things that meant the most to Eddie when he left...t-shirts, books, his guitar...and not the concert tickets...but your card.

You thought back to a card of your own. Sent to you from your father at Christmas. The beautiful drawing of the Loch Ness monster and his pathetic "Merry Christmas, From Dad" written inside. How irrationally angry you were that he would send you a card, after he'd said such terrible words to you, after he tried to force you to accept fate when he realized he was on the path to failure. You'd ripped the card up.

Now, in this moment...staring at the card that Eddie cherished, one that you'd cowardly sent without even signing...you felt some kind of understanding with your father. For the first time, truly, in your entire life. How much you would give...for a normal life for your loved ones.

And you knew how much stronger than you Eddie was, how patient he could be...how much more love that he had to give. How much more trust and faith he had.

Tears dripped on the card and you quickly wiped them away with the cuff of your jacket.

You were loath to do it, but you shoved the card back in the corner of the mirror where it belonged. You kissed your fingers and pressed it to the front of the card, and for the briefest moment you could feel the Eddie that lived deep inside you smile.

You cleared your throat and went back to digging and you noticed, there on the bed, a book.

Advanced Dungeons & Dragons Dungeon Masters Guide

Pages were randomly sticking out of it. Just like the books that had been at Rick's. You helped yourself as you began flipping and your thoughts fondly turned back to your own long sessions ahead of Halloween, when Eddie had convinced you to join Hellfire for one night only. Character creation and the mechanics of the game. He'd told you stories of monsters and villains like Xanathar and Vecna and...

"Wait," you paused. "Vecna."

Sure, Dustin had told you that Vecna was Henry Creel. But you'd never questioned the origin of the name. Villains gave themselves dumb names all the time. Like Batman's Calendar Man or Mad Max's Lord Humungus.

You flipped frantically, page after page after page...eyes scanning over unfamiliar words haphazardly. You didn't care about hit points and spells and experience, you needed to find one thing.

One thing that was on the tip of your tongue, the corner of your mind, you knew you knew it but you didn't know where...until now.

The Sword of Kas

"When Vecna grew in power," you read aloud. "He appointed the most evil and ruthless lieutenant to serve as his bodyguard and righthand. That henchman was the vampire lord Kas. For a long time Kas faithfully served the lich but legend says that the destruction of Vecna was brought on by Kas and the world was made brighter thereby. Son of a BITCH."

You picked up the book and threw it across the bedroom, where it crashed into a lamp and fell to the floor.

You backed out of the bedroom and back down the hall, into the kitchen. The wind whipped heavily outside and you knew you needed to find Lucy and leave...go back to the Harringtons and demand an answer but...how could you face the reality outside of those walls?

You needed a minute...to process all of it.

You stood over the sink, stared at the scummy drain and the basin filled with half-decaying leaves that had blown in.

Your heart was pounding, ears ringing, and your left arm started hurting, hand stiff and tingling where you clutched the edge of the counter; it could have been a heart attack but it could also have been everything that you'd been told since coming to Hawkins had been...what...a lie?

And here you were after a week and you had to start from square one again.

"It's ok, it's ok," you clenched your eyes shut and muttered to yourself. "It's not starting back at square one. You already know some things. So what? So what? So what his name isn't really Kas; you never knew someone named Kas in town anyway, did you really think that it was a real name?

"Of course you did. So why did they lie? The kids...Dustin...he must have come up with the name because...duh vampire. Makes sense. But then why wouldn't they tell you who Kas really was?"

You opened your eyes and stared into the sink again, then off to the side, sliding your eyes along the grout lines to help you calm yourself.

You were like a ticking time bomb of emotion. The...anger and sadness and mourning and need...all churning in your body. You were being selfish; these people, your former neighbors, had seen a lot. And here you'd come into town with your...Knight of the Holy Order spiel, spouting off how you'd be here to help and so far everything had truly...truly not worked in your favor.

"It's because I'm not trustworthy." You clenched a fist and hit the counter. "I know that."

What had you done? But...kill one of their friends and do whatever you wanted, go wherever you wanted...kept secrets. That's why you left the house earlier because you needed some space. And so did they. You being right under their nose, fucking up every step of the way, wasn't gonna do anything to earn their trust.

"And if they just trusted me, then I could help."

"And who's going to help you?" came a soft voice behind you.

You jumped and turned and saw her, hanging upside down from the jagged edge of the roof. Her hair cascaded down in a curtain to the floor, all perfect golden curls with a copper tint.

"Hello angel," she said in a long, breathy, drawn-out taunt, and then in a feat of impressive acrobatics, swung her body off the roof, flipping herself to stand upright.

She was a cheerleader after all.

"Nice to finally meet you too," you greeted calmly. "Chrissy."

She looked different than she had in the square, less bat-like, less creature-like, unless that was just your imagination now being so close to her. A strange mix of unsettling monster and conventional beauty. Her limbs were still long and a little in-human, but her pallor was less...dead. Her wings dragged along the ground behind her as she took one step towards you, then another. Her demon-like eyes, just like Fred's, stuck on you as you backed along the counter.

She grinned, all pretty, pouty lips and sharp, deadly teeth.

You mentally calculated how you could defend yourself if she decided to attack you here. The knife you had...fuck it was somewhere. Had you dropped it when Lucy had shown up? Regardless, all you had left was the crucifix tucked into your jeans and...yourself. Your powers. The thunder and lightning and rain still falling outside would be an easy conductor for a some kind of defensive play if you needed to.

The gate...also was an option. Crack the earth open further and swallowed her whole. But that wasn't a route you truly wished to explore just yet.

"You're thinking naughty things," Chrissy sing-singed. "Mean things. I'm not gonna hurt you. Not like the others want me to. Why do you want to hurt me?"

"You've hurt a lot of people," you explain. "Your master has."

"Master," she closed her eyes and stopped in her tracks for a moment. "He likes that. Master of Puppets, I'm pulling your strings. Yeah he likes that."

"Yeah? Nice to know he's happy."

"See?" she held her hands--claws--out to you. "We both want him to be happy. We can work together."

"Did you lose the ability to understand sarcasm when you died?" you snarked at her. Her smile dropped and her cheeks twitched. "He's a monster. He's a villain. He's killing people."

"He doesn't like what you're saying about him."

"Tough."

"You should be nicer, after all he's done."

"I'm not nice," you spit at her.

You'd shuffled to the edge of the kitchen but when you turned to try and make a getaway down the hall, you were immediately stopped by a solid wall of muscle. Clawed hands grabbed your biceps and pushed you away, then a mouth full of jagged teeth roared in your face, spittle and blood spraying you thoroughly.

If Chrissy felt more human and Fred more monstrous, Patrick was somewhere in the middle. His jaw was still slightly dislocated, from Vecna's curse or his own lack of care while feeding, you weren't sure. He was lithe and long, like a dancer, and he was strong. He turned you back to face Chrissy, and gripped your arms tightly; you could feel his claws puncture your jacket, your skin, deep enough you were sure he drew blood.

"You can't run," he hissed. "Don't run."

"Don't fight it," Chrissy continued, desperately. "Why do you fight it? He just wants you--"

"Wants me dead," you finished for her.

"He wants you," Patrick repeated, grip getting tighter. "He needs you."

Chrissy lunged for you then, one claw coming to your throat, the other gripping your jaw. You closed your eyes and tried to focus; you needed to get them off of you, needed to...expel them. You listened to the rolling thunder outside, trying to ignore the raspy hissing breaths in your ears.

If you could just...time it right...you could strike at least one of them with lightning.

You listened to the rumble and thought about an ocean...and...sea monsters.

You thought about Odysseus crossing the strait of Messina and encountering Scylla and Charybdis. A decision similar to yours right now; an adventure led astray that led to an impossible decision. Which path could he take that would cause the least damage? Which path could you? Strike Patrick and surely Chrissy would snap your neck; strike Chrissy and Patrick would tear out your throat.

Shit, even Odysseus had a fig tree to cling to.

You wracked your brain, tried to stay calm.

Until Chrissy's hands turned gentler, filled with care. Her thumb caressed your chin, then your cheek. The claw around your throat loosened, and she cupped your face in both hands.

"I feel what lurks," she hissed, breath fanning across your skin. "In your lusting heart."

"I hope you have a heart, because I'm gonna drive a stake through it," you spat at her.

Her fingers pressed into your face, punishingly, and then went soft again. She chuckled, deeply; not like the simpering giggle she'd given before. Something raspy from within her chest.

"You're funny." Chrissy continued, but there was a rumble in her voice now. Deep and dark and secret. "Denial...not just a river in Egypt. How's that for a joke? Why did you come here? Why did you come back?"

It wasn't Chrissy anymore.

"It's personal," you told her.

"Isn't it? It's just between us."

It was Kas.

Except Kas wasn't Kas anymore he was...something. And your mind bent trying to make sense of just who was on the other side of Chrissy's mind.

You felt her get closer to you and Patrick's grip on you tighten; the metaphorical rock and hard place that you'd been considering closing in on you. Your decision gone; you'd have to destroy them both.

But Chrissy's fingers kept up their gentle ministrations. Over your cheeks, then your brow, down the slope of your nose, over your lips. And if you ignored the rasp of her claws along your skin, you could almost imagine another set of hands. Doing what they always did. Soothing your thoughts, bringing you joy and comfort and love.

And surrounded by all of the memories, all of the ghosts that lived in the walls of the trailer it was overwhelming. A tear trailed down your cheek as you thought of him.

"Shhhh" she whispered, her own mouth close to yours now. She kissed away the tear as it rolled nearby. "Don't cry. How long?"

"It's personal," you repeated, but your mind flashed to the ghosts in the bed earlier, the memory of the two of you on a rainy October afternoon just like this one.

You hadn't thought of...another person like that since Eddie. You'd only ever thought of him after you were gone, and especially after he was. It was a self-imposed abstinence, but...well shit you were grieving. For yourself, for him. Your goal wasn't...pleasure...it was...Heaven. And heaven only ever was where he was, so if he was dead, so was your pleasure.

You knew that wasn't what Kas meant.

"Three years?"

But maybe it was.

"It's personal."

"I told you, it's just between us. How personal can it be?"

You grit your teeth, and turned your head away as best you could. The hands moved down your face, to your neck, fiddled with the remnant of Barb's bite. There was a growling between Chrissy and Patrick, but Kas continued.

"You want to be here."

"I don't."

"In Hawkins? Yes." The chuckling returned. "Yes you do."

The thumb ran slowly over the bite and you shivered, each ridge tender. There was a soft tsking noise, and then kisses up your cheek.

"I'm sorry." A lick over your skin, tongue flicking at the end. "But you're lying to yourself. You want to be here. You've been thinking about it since you set foot in the city limits; you're practically screaming it. Broadcasting it for all of Hawkins to hear. You're home."

"I..." Where was the lie in that? You had thought it, the minute you'd driven in town. You were home, in Hawkins. It was your home in a broad sense. This trailer was home. Eddie was home.

You hiccuped and scrunched your face up.

"Shhh," came a soothing sound, kisses over each of your eyes, just like Eddie would when you were upset.

"Get out of my head."

"I'm not in your head. I'm here. With you." You could hear the little grin in his voice. "But you're here, with me. You give a little, I give a little. A little back and forth. A partnership; we're both familiar with that aren't we? It's been a while...but it's just like riding a bike."

The hands moved...down...down...to the button of your jeans. Soon they were open and down further still, claws rasped against skin and cotton.

"I can give you everything you want. Everything you left behind."

There was that chuckle again, from Patrick this time, who pulled you closer against him, your back along the length of him. You could feel every limb accommodate the differences in your physiology. Vampire and human, unholy and divine. He began moving against you, length hardening into a prominent ridge against the softness of your rear. And Chrissy along your front, leaving sweet kisses and caresses, her fangs dragged over your skin intermittently as Kas continued his little speech, made his offer.

"But that means I get what I want too."

But which one was Kas? Were they both Kas? Were...

You couldn't think, the hands shifted just enough to play with your folds. You'd already been thinking of pleasure and Eddie, everything you'd lost and everything that could have been waiting for you. You were only human, of course you were going to respond.

It was a physical reaction...only a physical reaction, but...a little pleasure never hurt.

You nodded and fingers dipped, played with your clit, dragged your slickness up from your weeping, wanting hole to make it as sweet for you as they could.

Your head rolled back and rested against Patrick who had started breathing heavily behind you, huffing and heaving, a whispered so good, so sweet, as he used you.

"Ah but you already said it," there was a smirk. "I want you? I have you."

You had said that, hadn't you?

You thought of...god you could hardly think, but you thought of that last lazy morning together before you left. You late to work, Eddie late to school. He was behind you, face buried in your neck, fingers buried in your pussy as you both chased a high. A game of just enough but not quite too much followed by luscious words that helped get you to the edge together. He always told you how sweet you were. He liked to...

Fingers curled within you but bent in an oddly inhuman way that still abused your clit and brought you further along. You inadvertently clenched as the claws scratched and stung, and they both froze and hissed for a moment.

"Mine," they said in tandem, and then the movement became harder.

Rocking bodies, thrusting and bucking, fingers sliding in and out of your tight slit, palm grinding on your clit both delicately and punishingly, until a single tear became a river, and the storm outside emanated from you instead. You clenched your hands as Chrissy chased your high, as she pushed you over the precipice, as she stopped focusing on your channel and only focused on working your pleasure out of you for as long as she could. Legs weak, you arched away from Patrick and he chased you as well, pistoned his hips against yours until his own release followed.

You heard a distant clang of something falling to the floor, and your eyes snapped open.

And it was like a switch was flipped.

Patrick pulled you against him and Kas was gone; only a monster remained. A hungry one. And those fangs that had roared in your face just minutes easier buried themselves deep in your neck, the good side. They ripped into you and pulled, mouthful after mouthful of blood. It was a punishing kind of pain, especially with the remnants of an orgasm still coursing through you.

Chrissy was next, the gentleness in her gone, her hand, still slick, grabbed your chin yo keep you steady and with a feral grin she dove in and tore through the partially healed bite from Barb to take her own fill.

Their arms held you still while your body got weaker.

In your hazy mind you wondered if it had all been a trap. If Kas had wanted to take you out this way, obstacle removed by way of temptation.

You thought you heard your name.

There was a rumble and an unholy screech and before everything went dark, Chrissy and Patrick both ripped themselves away from your neck. Your blood splashed on the floor and dripped from their sharp mouths as they hissed at something.

But you couldn't keep your eyes open.

You were lost.

“The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it.”  ― Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray

Next Chapter: Via Domus

[hannahssimblr]

Epilogue (Part 2)

I wake at six with some noises and banging in the hallway. Groggily I climb to my feet and hobble to the door to see what all the fuss is about. It’s the makeup girl. The wheels of her cart of palettes seem to have gotten stuck on the high pile carpet and she’s careened the whole thing into the wall. “Sorry! I’m so sorry,” she whispers as I emerge, “I was looking for the bride’s room.” 

Another door in the hallway opens and Shane pokes his head out. He’s fully dressed already in his suit, meaning that sleep didn’t come in the end. “You’re at the wrong end,” he hisses, “Bridal suite is down in room six, Evie, would you help her?”

She looks at me pleadingly, “Oh, would you mind? I’m doing a bad job of pushing this yoke in a straight line.” 

I do, I go with her to the room, and when I knock Claire throws the door open looking perfectly serene in a silk dressing gown and matching slippers. “Evie!” 

“And the makeup girl!” I say, “I was helping her with her stuff.”

She throws her arms around me and kisses both my cheeks, “I’m so happy to see you! I can’t believe you made it.”

“Oh God, come on, I’d hardly miss it.”

“Come in, come in, both of you, it’s so early.” 

Inside the room her bridesmaids have already gathered and are lolling around a little fireplace, half asleep in their satin robes. The only one I know is Jaz from college. The others are close cousins from Tullamore who I’ve never met before. 

“Everyone, this is Evie,” she says to them, “My should-have-been-bridesmaid.”

“Who has been a terrible friend,” I add, “I’ve just been working too much to commit to this, I’m so sorry.”

“No!” She says as she cups my face, “You’ve been doing amazingly, Shane and I followed the articles about you all across the world for the last six months, you’ve been a busy lady.” 

“A tired lady.”

“Oh well maybe you can relax this weekend, do you think?” She climbs into a seat as the makeup artist begins to prep her face.

“You look amazing,” I tell her, “Your skin- What is that? What’ve you been using?”

“I’ll tell you a secret if you swear not to tell anyone else,” her lips curl into a smile, “it’s botox.”

I gasp and come closer to inspect her skin. I want to reach out and touch it but it’s already being wiped with a cotton round, “that’s amazing, you look twenty.”

“I wish, look,” she raises her eyebrows and her forehead is completely frozen, “No lines, isn’t that really weird?”

“Wow, keep doing that and you’ll make me want it too.”

And she rolls her eyes, “Oh come on, no, you don’t need to. You have those amazing genetics from your mam. How is it that she’s sixty four and doesn’t have a single wrinkle while my mam started getting lines at forty? Botox is something the O’Gorman women will have to invest in, the Kilbrides do not need botox.”

“News to me that your mam gets botox.”

“Oh Lord, yes, of course she does. It’s a lot of pressure to be the most glamorous woman in Tullamore, don’t you know? Now that it’s going to be me I need to step up my game,” She fists her hands with determination, “No slacking.”

In the three years since she and Shane have come back from Sydney, Claire has been busy too. She works at her dad’s office during the day – doing what I’m not exactly sure – and at night she takes classes in the local college so that she can get her degree in childcare, which might be useful seeing as she’s planning on having four of her own. Shane works in the lab at the pharmaceuticals company, his chemistry knowledge being put to good use, and he swears he really doesn’t mind it. It pays well, it doesn’t require him to travel and he leaves at five on the dot every evening to make his way over to the site of their new house across the lane from his childhood home and supervise the work. They should be moved in by Christmas, all going well. He hasn’t hung up his football boots yet, even since being dropped by the Swans. He coaches the girls’ under 10s and 12s football team two evenings a week at the local club. 

I hang out with Claire and the sleepy bridesmaids for a while before deciding that I should probably get myself ready, or eat something, so I do. I throw on something to cover up my pyjamas and go down for breakfast on my own. 

The snow is deep now, completely covering the landscape in a thick blanket and as I gaze out at it and eat my eggs and toast I wonder what would happen if it all got so bad that the roads closed down. What if it stopped us all from leaving? Maybe then, I think, I won’t have to think about work for a while, and I can take a holiday away from it all. “Sincerest apologies” I’ll write to my agent, “I’m trapped in a snowstorm away from my computer at the moment and there’s nothing I can do. I’ll send on the illustrations as soon as I can but really, I can’t make any estimation as to when that might be,” I smirk with delight and take a sip of my tea, thrilled by the idea of getting to do nothing. 

The hotel is quiet now but I know that frantic preparation is happening behind closed doors, and within an hour it spills out into the hallway. I can hear it as I do my makeup at the dressing table; the disorder of that crucial hour before Claire walks down the aisle and it all suddenly comes together. Caroline’s voice, directing someone somewhere, she’s straightening Shane’s jacket and ordering him downstairs. There is someone else, Will O’Connor, pacing back and forth rehearsing the lines of his best man speech. A woman is talking about the temperature of the room, the tuning of her violin, or something like that, and I swear that somewhere among the chaos of it all I hear a voice, deep, smooth, American, and as he passes by my door I freeze, knowing I should open it, stop him and say hello but I can’t because I’ve smudged my lipstick now. I grab a tissue and wipe it away, and then it’s too late.

I head down to the reception room just a few minutes before the ceremony begins, feeling nervous, though I know I shouldn’t because it’s not my wedding day. Shane is at the altar already, fidgeting, and Will is beside him looking spaced out, hands in his pockets and looking at the Christmas tree at the back of the room. I smile at Shane, and he smiles at me. Ivy is there too, with her violin playing friend from the music academy, they’re playing a gentle tune as the guests come in. And there’s Kelly and her parents, and Claire’s mother… and there’s Jude, and it’s like he can recognize my footsteps because he turns around to look at me the moment my feet hit the floorboards, and just like that we’ve just made eye contact for the first time in nine years. And I haven’t died because of it. I breathe. I’m fine.

Choosing a seat somewhere near the front seems like a wise idea. That way I can’t stare at the back of his head and that cute, short haircut for any length of time and I can think about other things, like how Claire’s mothers dress is just a little bit too close to white, but really, I don’t have much of a chance to think about it anyway, because the musicians begin to play Pachibel’s Canon and the door opens and we all turn around as Kelly’s daughter comes bounding down the aisle chucking fistfuls of white petals onto the ground. Everyone coos at her and whispers about how cute she is, and then the moment that she throws the basket onto the floor and sends it rolling under somebody’s seat I spy Caroline pursing her lips. 

“Fiadh,” she hisses, “Pick that up!”

Fiadh does not pick it up. She runs back down the aisle again and then Kelly is scrambling from her seat trying to grab her, now shrieking and weaving in and out of the seats. Someone captures her and holds her up, her fat little limbs squirming in mid air. I don’t know why I have an urge to look at Jude at this moment, as though I know him at all well enough to make a face and laugh privately about what’s just happened, so I try very hard not to, and anyway, I can’t. The bridesmaids are coming next. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

[gildedmuse]

[Top credit to @jhaernyl. Who knows of I would even write without her. She is one of the singule kindest, kniwst individuals I know. And I love her for both]

So, we have a problem..

A lot of time I see cute art and I can't HELP being inspired and want to write fic about it, or at least a ficlet. It's kind of a lot of my writing these days, it's helping me get back in the habit. But you can't just post art without proper credit!

(Speaking of which @jhaernyl for writing inspo.)

So what I'm do is post a link to a random site. And if it HAPPENS to remind you of the story I guess that's that.

Exactly like this.

[Gonna credit Sam Elias, if that's wrong please let me know. I'd hate to wrongly credit this random and unrelated art]

Idea:

College Law after his high school boyfriend moves in with him

Law: *20 year old starting his med degree working full time and trying to get an internship all at the same time*

Zoro: *15 and shows up at Law's door with one bag and three swords* Torao! *Throws himself into Law's arms*

Official Boyfriend

Law: Z-Zoro-ya? What are you doing here? *Glancing at his calendar. It's not Northerntide yet is it? He's been studying but he hasn't been THAT out of it*

Zoro: *Snickers* That's still a month off, idiot.

Zoro: *walks in to Law's apartment, perfectly comfortable* I just wanted to come and see you. Wow, your place is a mess.

Law: O-oh. *Blushing, moving to quick to stuff a.... Err.... Medical work out magazine under a pillow. Shambling some books onto his bed, tossing his jacket over the mess on his chair* I guess I haven't had many guest lately. Oh! *Looks down, surprised to suddenly have Zoro smiling up right next to him*

Zoro: Well now you have one. You're welcome!

Law: *Gives in, finally smiling softly down at Zoro* Yeah, I do. *Kissing the tip of his nose* My favorite guest, In fact.

Zoro: *snorts, punching Law's arm, but gently* You just told me I was your ONLY guest, flirt.

Law: *chuckle* But still my favorite.

Zoro: *standing there, up on his toes, staring up at Law all expectedly*

Law: *ruffles his hair* Right. Let me get you a warm drink.

Not what Zoro wanted, but he'll take it.

—🧡—

Technically, Zoro and Law have been "dating" since Zoro was 12/13 and Law was 17/18. Law wouldn't say it was dating. He would say he was acting as Zoro's uchidachi while also helping to tutor the boy so he'd be ready for his Third Level Exams - that's for students moving from Second Levels (11-14 year olds) into their third and final level of basic education (15-18) - but seeing as they were both orphans and both lived at the dojo (the North doesn't have "orphanages" as such. Its far more effective to send kids into some sort of school. Not for general education but for something like a vocation or else a specialty like a Dojo or a Theater or a Companion House) and since Law was both his uchidachi and his tutor and one of the oldest kids at the dojo, they ended up spending so much time together that Zoro decided it was dating.

When Law turned 18 he had to move out of the dojo, even though he was still finishing his final year of third level (the last two years are only for higher level students who are likely to go into universities. Law had earned a scholarship to the North Blue Marine Academy, so he was staying all three years, but the dojo only has so many rooms, and at 18, regardless of the situation, you had to go.) Law "rented" a room with his mentor, the one at the Academy who had recruited Law and even secured him a spot in the competitive medical school - under the stipulation that Law maintains his grades of course - so he was able to focus on his school.

However, he felt he needed at least a part time job. And while Law MAY have been the occasional problem back at the dojo, the Sensei did like to hold him up as an example to the other students as what they could achieve if they put their nose to the grindstone and followed all the rules.

Also, Donquixote Rosinate was a big donor and Law's mentor and no one wanted to upset Rosinate-san. So they hired him on part time as a assistant to the sensei which, at least the students liked him

But Zoro liked him MORE and so he was sure to establish that he was still Law's shadachi which Law ensured him that, yes, while he might be the assistant sensei for the whole class, he was only Zoro-ya's uchidachi which Zoro was very, very happy to hear.

So then, just to make sure, he checked that he was still Torao's only boyfriend.

That was.... More complicated.

"Why? Because you sometimes see other people? I don't care, so long as I'm your only OFFICIAL BOYFRIEND."

"Zoro-ya, you can't be my official boyfriend. You can't be my boyfriend at all. You're only 12!"

"Well, yeah, but I'll be 13 in less than a month! All the other 13 year olds have boyfriends or girlfriends."

"But not ones who are 18."

"That's not true. Baby's is 37!"

Law has nearly choked. He also made sure to tell one of the Sensei immediately, and was politely told to mind his own business.

Zoro remained very persistent. "Please. We don't have to DO anything. I just want to have you as my boyfriend."

And Law did notice all the other 13 year olds had dates. Zoro was from the east, he got brought up here by *accident*. And he really didn't seem to want to do anything other than talk about kendo and hang out with Law and maybe sometimes fall asleep on his shoulder, but those are all things he'd done before. So when he was 13, Law finally gave in and said, okay, they could be "official" boyfriends, but he couldn't tell any of yhe kids at the dojo. It would make it seem like Law was playing favorites and dating students is wrong, anyway, he explained.

Zoro had gone all pink and punched the air. "Yes! Torao, I'll be the BEST official boyfriend ever, I promise!"

And maybe it's just that Law had only ever had the two "official" boyfriend and one girlfriend ever and none of them had been that great at just, like, being *people* never mind dates, but honestly, Zoro-ya probably was the best. At least in Law's experience.

He didn't talk about it, not at the dojo but at also at school, at least as far as Law could tell. He never asked for anything or expected Law to do anything for him. He didn't mind when sometimes kids would tease Law because somehow they always seemed to know when he'd been with someone, because as far as Zoro was concerned it was like how Law was everyone's assistant but only HIS uchidachi. That's what made him official.

He didn't constantly follow Law around or want to talk to him all the time; well, no more than he had before. He never cried or pouted because Law wasn't giving him enough attention or started a fight just because he fault like being angry.

Well, he started fights, just not with Law, and they were all physical anyway so that was fine.

No, he was pretty much the same kid he'd always been expect that sometimes he'd scoot just a bit closer to Laa, and occasionally he'd sneak giving him this look, but that was fine. Oh, and for couple's day he'd gone and got Law a gift.

Of course, he didn't have any money, but he knew Law was busy with school and his job and his Academy Entranve Exams AND being his Official Boyfriend, so Zoro had snuck out and borrowed Kikoku - Law's Nodachi and one of his few possessions left from his parents - And he took his best oil and traded away part of his super for the best rice paper he could and he even managed to find his way to where Law was staying (that's had been the plan, at least..... In the end, he wound up at the Marine station, but that worked out all the same) and he spoke with Law's Corazon and explained what he needed. Law said if there was every anything that Zoro really, really needed or any kind of an emergency, he should go to Corazon. Zoro knew this wasn't an emergency, but he did think it was really, really important so he put together his best clothes and brushed his hair and practiced all his formal language just to ask this one favor.

It turns out, Corazon was really cool and so impressed with Zoro's presentation that not only did he agree, he took him down to the store himself and he let Zoro pick out the Sageo he thought Law would like best (within reason).

Zoro had selected a bright red one because that way it was like blood and Torao was going to be a doctor, so he'd probably be around a lot of blood and this was if any was on his hands it wouldn't show. Plus it looked really cool. Way more scary and also fancy than the worn out, threadbare and dirty white one that Law was using.

Corazon let him come back to the house so he could work while Law was at class (he forgot to ask why Zoro wasn't at class himself, he was so delighted to have this adorable and determined child who wanted to make a gift for his uchidachi. He didn't even bother to tell him that wasn't how Couple's Day works up North. He just made Zoro some snacks, said he had to go back to work but he could call if anything happened and help himself to anything in the kitchen and let the boy work.

When Law came home after his study group he found Zoro curled up on the floor next to the couch, Corazon's marine coat draped over him like a blanket. On the table was a note where Corazon explained all about Zoro coming down to the marine office and asking Corazon if he would help him buy a gift for Law and how he'd come back and spent all day working on polishing Kikoku and then rewrapping the saya with the hanging cord which according to Corazon he'd only needed two tries to do which seemed very impressive for such a young boy. He'd also run in the second he'd heard Corazon scream with his own katana drawn, ready to attack, and once he saw it was just Corazon on fire from the stove he helped him put both out.

Corazon had wanted to offer him dinner, but by the time he'd come in the boy had be sprawled out on the floor snoring. The note finished that he's had to leave - no reason which Law has figured out means it's secret marine business - but dinner was in the fridge. Be sure his young friend gets home safe and oh you may want to change his bandages before he goes.

That part was confusing to say the least, so Law goes and he gently prods Zoro awake. The boy yawns and sits up, holding out Kikoku for Law's approval.

The sword was beautiful. He also noticed Zoro's littke hands covered in bandages. Kikoku was a cursed blade and Zoro-ya is stranger, it makes sense it would take blood. But he had just wrapped up his fingers and kept working. It had been one of the nicest thing anyone's ever done for Law.

Law, of course, had no idea he'd planned to make such a sweet gesture and so had nothing to give him in exchange. Thinking quickly he told Zoro-ya to close his eyes before dashing to his room. He grabs an old hoodie he's made with his tag on it.

It was nothing compared to the thoughtfulness behind Zoro-ya's gift, but before Law can regret it, the boy's squealed that he loved it and throw it on over his school uniform.

On the way taking Zoro's back to the dojo, the stop and get some fries dumplings and the woman behind the counter's comment on how cute they are with Zoro in his boyfriend shirt makes Zoro beam. Law smiles and says, "yeah, he's the Official Boyfriend," in a way he hopes she'll know is joke and Zoro turns pink and burrows into his jacket. The old woman laughs and apologizes for being out of couple specials and instead "sneaks" them two extra dumplings and gives them what it left of her white rice which is easily three helpings worth. After the split the dumplings he lets Zoro have the rice to himself which he gulps down without seeming to need to breathe. He is quite the picture with his puff out cheeks, splitting rice as he says thank you.

"You know next year, when I'm not around, if anything where to happen you could still go to Cora-san, yeah?"

"Oh...." And the kid manages to swallow the whole ball of rice in his mouth at once. "Yeah but, you'll still come and visit, right? For holidays and stuff."

"It would be expensive," Law pointed out. "And I'll be very busy."

Zoro gives a small sound of unstanding and nods his agreeal. The kid is just looking down at the mostly empty dumpling box, picking through what little rice is left. Law feels like he's broken up with someone. On Couple's Day.

"But...." He says, eyes falling on a vendor who is just about to close up. He takes out his wallet. It's a little light, but then it always is. "Here," he says, reaching down for Zoro's hand and pulling him towards that side of the street. "One last Couple's Day gift. Excuse me, sir?"

"Yes?"

"It says 2 for 200 Berris."

"Yes, it's our Couple's Day Special."

"Is that for any of them or..."

"That's the cheapest models. We have much better for 1200, and for just 3000 we can do two E Mushis, but the air time is sold separately. "

"Can the cheap ones reach from here to the Marine Academy over on Stanton Island? "

" All the way to Stanton? No. Not yet, they're too young." Law notes the inside of his cheek, making a disappointed noise. He should have checked before dragging Zoro-ya over here.

The vendor looks between the two before sighing. He's seen enough broken hearted couples for one day. "I have some that are about two years old. The reception might be spotty but it will get better given a year or so. I can do them for 300."

"Yeah?" 300 isn't that bad, and he can use it for other things like staying in touch with Cora-san and his friends. "May we see them?"

The man nods before reaching down and pulling out a small aquarium. It has barely enough room for each creature to move, with a line of plastic down the middle so the cages can either been broken into two or turned into one slightly larger aquarium.

Inside are two medium size snails. One of them happily chomping at the foliage. The other looks like it had been sleeping but clicks into a more official On state when it's picked up, remaining fully still.

The man puts them on the counter in front of Zoro's who looks at them with a curious tilt of his head.

Law fingers what little cash he has on him. He feels for such a purchase he should at least ask some questions. "You said they're 2 years old?"

"Yeah. It'll still be about 3 years before they're full grown, another 2 before they're Grand Line Capable. These models have a good 20 years on them, though."

"Do they have any additional capabilities?"

"These models? No, they're only bred to be basic communicators. But if all you're doing is talking, they can handle that. Like I said, they're range will get bigger given a few years."

"Any health problems? Care instructions?"

"This breed is pretty hearty. They're the North Blue Heartland Subspecies, known for good health and strong signal bred with an Eastern Beach Subspecies for the longevity and obedience. They're often referred to as SandHearts. Pretty common bred, resistant to most diseases though Shell Spots can sometimes appear in old age. We sell Snail Pellets but actually, with these guys, you can charge them up with just about any kind of vegetation, even just a handful of grass. Shouldn't let him give them too many processed foods though," the man adds, nodding towards the cage.

Law looks back to see Zoro dropping a small piece of left over dumpling skin in to the green one, who immediately dives for it. The yellow one remains 'On', it's eyes stalks only following the food for a second. "Zoro-ya, are you listening? "

"Hmm? Mmm." The young boy gives him a nod. Law raises his eyebrows, giving the chopsticks a pointed look.

Biting his inner cheek with just a bit of a pout, Zoro puts down his chopsticks. "Sorry about that," Law says, turning back to the vendor who only shrugs.

"It won't hurt em too much in small doses, just gives them a lot of energy to burn. Plus, can reduce their years of usage eventually. So what will it be? I have a couple of 560 Berri pairs that are further along if you'd like. "

Law winces at the price. "These will do. Thank you so much. "

As they walk off, Law sighs, stuffing his now mostly empty wallet into jean's pocket. "There," he says, smiling down at Zoro even if the smile is a bit strained. "Now will be able to speak with one another, even with me a while two islands away. You can call me with questions about kendo or homework."

Zoro looks at the two creatures in his hand. Cautiously, he taps at the glass before breaking into a smile for Law. "I want the green one."

Law returns the smile, nodding. "Okay, that one's yours." They break apart the box. Law sets his in his jacket pocket while Zoro continues to carry his inside the box with the little bits of rice. Law hopes he's not planning to feed it to the creature when he gets home. Law JUST bought them....

"If I got a job and saved up, then could I come and visit you?"

"I don't see why not. You'd have to work extra hard though, to stay on top of your grades and kendo. "

"You don't have to worry about that! I'm still the top kendo competitor in my year."

"Yeah, but not the top student," Law reminds him. But Zoro just keeps staring and finally Law relents with a sigh. "We'll talk about it later. The Dojo is the next left."

"Hmm? Oh the streets look different in the dark."

"Sure they do." Law takes the paper box, almost completely devoid of food by now, and tossss it away in the trash. So Zore won't be tempted. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay."

"Okay." Then Zoro stands there, staring at him.

Law states back. The Dojo is literally less than two hundred feet, but he still wants to watch to make sure Zoro gets back okay. They stand like that for a minute before Zoro's eyes slide to the left.

"Hmm?" Law looks over to spot a young couple standing under the light of a street lamp. The girl has about a dozen Frost Roses in her hands which couldnt have been cheap. The two are kissing and when the girl pulls back the boy tried to follow despite her giggled protest that her parents will worry.

Law looks back at Zoro, who is still staring up at him. With a low sign, Law leans down kissing the tip of Zoro's nose.

That's apparently good enough since the boy breaks out into a smile. "Night!" He calls out, almost tripping over himself as as he heads back to the dojo.

—🧡—

Now he's trying to find something non alcoholic in his fridge he can give to Zoro. A Zoro who is suddenly here. Law known he had gotten a job and had been talking about visiting but only a few days. For the holidays. And it had only been talk.

"What about school? Vacation hasn't started yet, has it?"

"Oh, yeah. I stopped going?"

"Wh-ouch!" Law jumps back at the top of his head heads the ceiling of the fridge. "What do you mean you stopped going?"

"Oh, yeah. Well, it turns out that I don't actually NEED the last tao years for Kendo, you know? "

"Kendo?" Law's jaw drops. He couldn't be serious. "Zoro-ya you can't just DO kendo!"

"Sure I can. I'm already really good at it! Plenty of people do. Oh, and I'm old enough to join the Marines!"

"Join the Marines? Zoro-ya you are NOT joining the Marines!"

"Why not?" Zoro gives him a look. "You are."

Law waves his head through the air. That's totally different. He going to the Marine Academy as a medical doctor, and even if he stayed he'd be a well paid officer. He's not joining as the rank and file!

"What did the Sensei have to say about this!?" Law asks. They couldn't just allow this. They must have strings they could pull to get him back in school!

"Oh..." Zoro gives a mad sort of sigh, looking around the room. "They kicked me out as well."

"You got kicked out of the dojo!?"

"They said there wasn't any room for someone who was just a waste of space and they need the spot for kids that would actually be worth it," Zoro grumbles, refusing to look at Law. Refusing to admit the failure.

Just like that, Law's rising panic, his fury, it all disappears. Well, maybe not disappears but certainly lessens and redirects. They told him he wasn't good enough to keep around? Really?

But he's still practically just a kid? How could they...

"But...." Zoro gives him a small, hopeful look. "I thought, I could stay here right. I mean, I can get a job and help out wi-"

"Yeah." With a sigh, Law runs a hand through his hair. He doesn't need Zoro to finish. "Yeah, you can stay."

[poguehoe4life]

The Secret Mikaelson

Chapter 1

Rose watched as Elena walked down the hall, slowly turning to make direct contact with her shoulder. "Omg, I'm so sorry- wait, aren't you new here?" Elena asked helping Rose pick up her books. "Yeah. I just moved from England." Elena looked surprised. "Wow. That's a long way. Why come to Mystic Falls?" She smiled, walking with Rose. "I wanted a change of scenery." Elena looked confused but didn't press on. "Cheer tryouts are later. You should come." Rose nodded. "I'll think about it. Thanks," she said, walking away from Elena. When she returned home, she threw her bag onto the shelf and paused. Maybe joining a sport wasn't the worst thing. She thought, grabbing a pair of shorts and heading back to the school.

When she arrived, she found exactly what she expected. A bunch of preppy schoolgirls who thought nothing could touch them. That's where they were wrong. "Alright, everyone. Today we start with tumbling. If you cannot perform these basic cheerleading moves, you're cut. Got it?" A blonde girl said, her ponytail swinging back and forth. "You must be Caroline," Rose said to the girl, walking up behind her. "Yeah. And you are?" Elena walked up to Caroline and gave her a look. "This is Rose. She just moved from England." Caroline scoffed. "I hope England had a cheer team. Otherwise, you are of no use to me." It was strange how much Caroline reminded Rose of Klaus. Demanding, self-righteous, and always eager to win. Caroline demonstrated a running round-off. "We start with this. If you can't do this, there's the door." Half the girls walked out. Caroline's well-ironed smile faded at the corners. Those that could perform the set-aside task did and if they weren't up to Caroline's standards, she showed them the door.

12 girls remained. Caroline's once pristine smile was now a disappointed growl. "Is it really that hard to do a back handspring? Like, come on." Elena caressed her friend's elbow and muttered that everything would be fine. How easy it was for these girls to worry about small things when they knew nothing of the world set for them. Their ruin was coming. Rose just had to stick around long enough to see it. Soon, vampires, werewolves and witches would graze the land of Mystic Falls. And Elena was right in the center.

A week later, the 2014 Mystic Falls High School cheer squad roster was posted on the school board for everyone to see. Rose's name was on that list. "Congrats Rose! I'm so happy we get to cheer together!" Elena said, dragging the girl out the door. "So listen. That chem final's coming up and I know you just moved here, but you are really good at chemistry and I need a study buddy because Caroline is, well Caroline. Can you-" Rose cut her off. "Yes, I'd love to. Your place or mine?" Elena smiled and gave Rose a hug. "Let's go to mine. Maybe Jenna will have made food."

When the girls arrived to Elena's house, Rose stopped at the door to admire the outside porch. Elena turned, noticing her friend stop walking. "You can come on in. I know it's not much but it's home." Rose stepped a foot inside the door and smiled. "It's a home. Unlike mine." Elena looked puzzled. "I have no family here. The last of them died last month. All I have is a dusty old house that was left to my aunt by her grandparents. It hasn't been lived in for years." Elena put her hand on Rose's shoulder. "Why don't you stay here? We have an extra room and besides I've always wanted a sister." Rose hugged Elena tightly. "Only if you're sure. And if it becomes too much for you I'll go, okay?" Elena nodded.

Hours upon hours later, after much wrong directed conversation and very little chemistry work done, Rose stood. "I've gotta go make a call. A friend of mine from England told me to call when I get settled down so he knew I made it alright." Elena nodded. "Of course! Go ahead!" Rose stepped outside onto the front porch and dialed a number she knew all too well. "I'm in." The voice on the other end of the line spoke one sentence. "Update me when you're ready for phase two."

[blackfire-fanfiction]

haha, so not that i think about this au or anything. however―

Leo starts getting more stressed.

the 2012 brothers are glad that it's their leo around, especially since they haven't swapped in at least a week. but it's sort of hard to ignore the fact that somethings wrong with their brother.

leo is... scared. for years at this point, switching has occurred frequently enough for it to barely be a surprise, and yet it's been a lot longer than normal since a swap. and the last time that happened, he was comatose. it has implications for what's going on in the other world that he's not really sure how to handle

~~~

so if leo and leon swap when 2012 finally wakes up from the coma, wouldn't it be sad if the same thing happened in the other direction? unless you

leon wakes up in the 2012 world, the last memories he has being of the prison dimension.

how do you even begin to explain a situation like that? saying that the other kraang showed up is far from cutting it. how can he stress the severity of what just went down? (does it even matter? it's not like they can help.)

~~~

this is sort of relying on the fact that you also hc that rise leo would be comatose for a bit after the movie. but i feel like it's pretty common of a thing? idk. mindless ramblings of a very sleep-deprived muffin

Honestly Leo being the one to wake up first after the Krang was already something I was planning on doing. Because Leon is heavily injured, and will not wake up for at least a week. (I think for switching when one of them is comatose, it isn't exactly 1:1. Because not switching for the full 3 months when Leo's out doesn't really fit. The universe tries to make it 1:1 for time, but it doesn't always happen that way. (just got a horrible idea for that actually-))

Anyway so Leo, after stressing for a week or two about why the switch isn't happening, wakes up aching in Rise. And he's so confused as to what's happening. (Really great for the fam's perspective. Maybe this is where I can slip in them assuming he has DID because wow what a traumatic event to highlight the amnesia between switches.)

And Leon wakes up in 2012 after passing out either in the Prison Dimension or after he gets rescued. Probably the prison dimension so he can feel guilty about Leo having to go through that with no warning. (Maybe in the week(s) Leo spent in 2012 with his family, he cleared up some of the stuff about how they treat Leon. So when Leon switches he is expecting having to cope alone (alone... yeah that's not angsty at all) but the 12 guys aren't perfect, but they're actually making an attempt. I think it'd be fun if Raph took that first step, because twins and whatnot)

Just a really fun situation all around

[cboffshore]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

thanks for the tag, @fabrowrites!

Tagging: @basicallyjaywalker and, uh, I'm not really sure. NWOD buddies, if you see this, you're all welcome to hop on too!

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

Twelve! One is technically a mini essay collection and one is a poem, though, so ten proper fics.

2. what's your total ao3 word count?

122,397!!! Which is.... wow!!

3. what fandoms do you write for?

Ninjago. That's it. I don't really engage with other shows enough to write fic for them, and I think writing fic for IRL bands and such is weird as hell, so I don't that at all.

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

Oh boy, let's see:

A Disappearing Act (Done Poorly) leads the race, which makes sense - she's been around the longest!

It Doesn't Take Much (To Cover Up Small Cuts) is a bit of a surprise, but so worth it.

The Splinter in the Blind Man's Eye: An Unofficial Revision . What a great group project. Too bad Tommy wandered off to work on Dreamzzz or whatever... This one is like a tombstone on my account. Or maybe a mausoleum...

Just Cross The Waters my beloved!

Coughing Up Feathers is one that I'm amazed isn't higher - kind of had a spike in activity when I updated OSSAS this year.

5. do you respond to comments

YES. I love to blabber. Please ask me questions!!

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Elegy Above Sea Level isn't a fic - it's that single poem I mentioned earlier - but it's really the only work I have that ends on a purely bitter note. I don't deal in unbalanced angst, but I like this one. Goes down like a raw spoonful of cocoa powder, honestly, and I adore it.

7. what is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Oof, that's... that's a tough one. I would have to say Coughing Up Feathers purely because it's got a miniature "everyone laughs" ending that still makes me smile when I read it back.

8. do you get hate on fics?

No, and you know what? I wish I did, sort of. Maybe not outright hate, though. As much as I love opening my comments to find my readers excited for me, it does get a little repetitive sometimes. Peer review me in the comments! Find an inconsistency and make me justify it! Lord knows I've done my share of criticism (on Tumblr and Discord, though - I'm just nice enough to not do it in the comments) and I think it would be fun to get that energy back. Plus, spite fuels me! If you make me mad, you get more writing. Win-win.

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

Nope. Never. I would rather eat pillow stuffing.

10. do you write crossovers? what's the craziest one you've written?

Not any more, but my very first fic from middle school was a god-awful triple hit of Star Wars (with total homebrew lore, all I kept were the lightsabers and Force tricks), Ninjago, and - get this - Lindsey Stirling. I abandoned it halfway through the Rise of the Snakes season installment.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope! That's the nice thing about focusing on an underappreciated angle - everyone else pays attention to the big, popular stuff, and only the people who would appreciate it even look twice at mine.

12. what's the longest you've spent working on a fic? and the shortest?

If I Can Think (Of Something Clever) took me about three months of on and off writing, plus LOADS of planning, so that's my longest! On the other hand, I wrote Wouldn't It Be Grand? (It Ain't Exactly What You Planned) in the span of a few hours.

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope! Not sure I want to, either, although maybe someday...

14. what's your all-time favorite ship? from all fandoms?

IT'S THE MISFORTUNE'S KEEP. I don't do romance, not really, although to properly answer that I will confess that I do like Jaya enough to write it now and then.

15. what's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I don't really have any WIPs in limbo right now, so I don't have an answer here? Either I finish a fic or I lay it to rest when the momentum dies. No middle ground.

16. what are your writing strengths?

I've been told that I'm very good at comedic timing and imagery! I love trying to paint the mental image of a room - sometimes I even do floor plans to help me out.

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

I worry that my action writing is a little too straightforward - I write like I had to when I was a stage manager, so my actions are VERY cut and dried. It helps me visualize better, so I'm unlikely to change, but I wonder sometimes if my readers get sick of it.

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I've never done it, but I think it's a cool idea!

19. first fandom you wrote for?

Ninjago. I've never written fic for any other.

20. favorite fic you've written?

My favorite usually tends to be my most recent, so that honor goes to If I Can Think (Of Something Clever). It also breaks a few records - both in personal best fic length, and in the fact that it's the first fic I've ever seen that comprehensively gets to Nya's experience during e63 instead of just nodding at it during the aftermath. That entire series is fueled by that "be the fic author you want to see in the world" idea, because let's be real - there isn't a lot of Nya centric Skybound content. When there is, it's usually aftermath, but I want to see the thick of it! I'm doing my best out here.

[agbob-dollpants]

~The Secret!?~

How many people have you met that have over 100 AG dolls? For me, personally, I think I could probably name about ten other collectors that have such an extensive collection. In this post, you will find out why I’ve reached such a high point in my collection, and why all of my dolls have reached me in such a consistent manner.

Random doll pic!!

Happy April! The fourth month of 2023… wow! This year has flown by really quickly so far. As many people know, April is autism acceptance and awareness month, so I thought I’d like to make a post regarding that! Today (April 2nd) is also Autism Acceptance Day!✨

And that is exactly what my secret is. Something I’ve been wanting to share on AGIG for years. Something that I didn’t even know until I was 12 years old but had been effecting me for me entire life. Something that was hidden from me that I no longer want to hide from other people. I am autistic.

I’m not super familiar with the AG/doll community on tumblr, but because of that, I thought it would be a good way to introduce myself early on. Apparently, I got the diagnosis when I was 4 years old, but my mom told me randomly one day when I was almost 13. I was kind of shocked at the time, but once I thought about it for a second, everything began to make sense. “Oh, so THAT’S why I did *insert random thing* when I was little!”

I honestly feel a lot better about myself now that I know this information, but I’ve been wary about sharing it with others because my mom was hesitant to even tell me, let alone have me tell anyone else, about it. This month, remember to NOT support Autism $peaks or “light it up blue,” default to identity-first language, and LISTEN to actually autistic voices! Red instead!❤️

Now for the fun part. 🤭 I get to talk about my dolls! I got my first 2 dolls in 2012, but I started to become really passionate about AG and the brand after my friend and I had discovered AGTube in 2014. The first AGTube video I ever saw was an AGSM called “Sandy Gets Her Ears Pierced.” I was BEWILDERED by the dolls moving by themselves and then I got sucked into the hole of AGTube, as I started to learn just about anything I could about these dolls. ✨

Basically, that’s how American Girl became a special interest of mine! A special interest is an intense, focused interest that an person has on a specific topic for a long period of time. At that time, I had 10 dolls, and now I have 144 almost 9 years later! My younger self would POUR over my current doll collection and would do anything to have even half of the dolls that I do today! She’d flip out seeing her dream dolls like Sonali, Kanani, Mia, and McKenna in my current collection, and it makes me really happy to be living out a big dream of mine from when I was younger! :)

Thanks for reading, dollblr! Have a wonderful day!

[fussingoverfassbender]

“I've never been really good at anything in my life.”

Interview with Michael Fassbender Monsieur - 01 - Spring 2023

The German-Irish Michael Fassbender belongs to the ranks of successful actors who are appreciated by both critics and audiences. But his real obsession is racing. A conversation about Paul Newman, Michael Schumacher and a shy boy who liked to play with slingshots and climb trees.

Mr. Fassbender, have you ever heard the German word Nervenkitzel? Sorry, my German is a bit rusty. Something to do with nerves, that's clear. But what does Kitzel mean? Handbag maybe? (laughs)

Not quite. The word Nervenkitzel describes the nervous tension that a person feels when they go into dangerous situations. Ah understand. But I have to disappoint you: I don't go into dangerous situations.

Speeding down a race track in a 500 hp car at 300 km/h, do you think it's safe? Well, people always say, "Wow, you're driving 300 kilometers an hour, that's crazy!" But there's really nothing wrong with driving 300 in a straight line, almost anyone can do it.

If you don't care about the adrenaline rush, then what about? Adrenaline is important, no question. But for me it's about reaching a state of non-thinking. Do you know that feeling when everything flows together?

You mean kind of a zen moment when mind and body become one? Exactly! I'm addicted to this feeling. Because I think it's very rare in life that we surrender ourselves completely to something, become absorbed in it.

At what moments do you reach this status? For example, when I take a corner in the racing car at the right speed on the tracks in Monza or Spa, without letting the car skid, but precisely feeling that I'm driving on edge - I feel one with the car.

Five years ago you were a guest on Jimmy Fallon on The Tonight Show and he asked you what car you drive. Her reply was, "I don't have a car." It's a long way from a man who doesn't own a car to a statement like this just now, isn't it? (laughs) Yeah, I remember. I bought my first car in the early 2000s and drove it around London for almost a year. Eventually my money ran out and I had to go back to Ireland to my parents. Just before the ferry at Fishguard there was a bang and smoke billowed out of the radiator. I just made it onto the ship with the engine roaring and called my father. He waited on the other side and towed me all the way to Killarney in his car. That's more than 250 kilometers!

Not every father does that. No, I know. But my father is always positive. He's the guy whose glass is always half full.

What kind of car was that back then? It was a Peugeot 306 Spinnaker, special edition.

And what happened to it? We had the motor replaced and six months later I had an accident. Total loss.

No!? Yes!

Is your father a mechanic? No, he worked as a chef. And I don't have the faintest idea about the inner workings of a car.

So where does your enthusiasm for racing come from? Hm, we never had fast cars. My father drove a Renault 16, he always said: A car is like an animal. You have to feel the engine, listen to its mood and sounds. I always wanted to sit on his lap. He taught me to drive when I was 12. Only on private roads, of course.

Naturally. What kind of boy were you back then: adventurous and daring or more quiet and thoughtful? I think I was pretty quiet.

No bleeding wounds, no fights? No, not that I remember. I was a shy boy, loved climbing trees, running, track and field because I couldn't play football or basketball.

Richard Lietz, Porsche works driver and something like your mentor, said about you: You are not the greatest racing talent... Oh, he has no idea! (laughs; Richard Lietz is only a few meters away).

...but you are a meticulous worker who tries very hard and is eager to learn and learn. Are you satisfied with this description? No, I'm not. I originally wanted to stop acting at the age of 40 and just go racing. Go-kart racing mind you. But then I got this opportunity: Porsche sports car, 500 hp, a whole team supporting me, perfect conditions. A dream.

There are some fellow actors who have lived the same dream in the past: Steve McQueen, Gene Hackman, Paul Newman. When asked why he races, Newman once replied, "I've always been about competition. My wife thought I raced because I was bored of acting, but the thing is, you can't compete in acting . And I'm a competitive guy." Do you feel the same? I've studied almost all of his interviews, and at one point he says, "Racing was the only thing I could do with grace and decency." And that's how I feel too.

You don't want to compete with the competition? In racing, you're either the fastest or you're not. Thats is quite easy. And I would say I'm definitely competitive in my league of lousy amateur riders (laughs). But the thing is, I've never been really good at anything in my life. It was just different when driving. When I sat in a go-kart for the first time, I thought: hey, I can do this. I had a good feeling, not scared. I loved it straight away.

Your fellow actor Patrick Dempsey, who owns his own racing team, praises you as a great driver with a lot of talent. That's very kind of him to say that. Of course I have talent. But to me, talent is just the first step in a connection or believing in something you're tackling. Everything else is back-breaking work.

Do you like to torment yourself? Torment? I want to improve, yes. Especially when something goes wrong, it's very difficult for me to tick something off and go home. I hate standing still. I also believe that there are no secrets in life. And you probably know the theory that you need 10,000 hours of practice to be good at something. Real racing drivers have been in the cockpit since they were six years old. They are one with the car with every fiber of their being.

Michael Schumacher is said to have sat in a converted five-horsepower Kettcar at the age of four. Michael Schumacher is my hero. I was very fortunate to meet him once in Monaco when he was driving for Mercedes-Benz. I will never complete my 10,000 hours of driving, that's clear and also far too expensive. But I'm trying everything in my power to take as much as possible out of this experience.

Have you ever felt that zen moment we spoke of at the beginning in any other activity? Hm. I had the same feeling when I was a boy and I ran. You know: just me and the road.

And in acting? Not often, but sometimes.

When was it? When I was shooting the movie "Hunger". The film is about the hunger strike by IRA members in a Northern Irish prison. We shot a 24-minute shot non-stop, and we were just two actors in the scene. It was a tough experience and at the same time almost a surreal experience.

Does that mean there are definitely similarities between racing and acting? Yes, of course, you have to be super focused and relaxed at the same time. And sometimes you should have the feeling that you don't understand what's happening to you.

Isn't that the point where you start loving something? What if it doesn't make sense? Absolutely! Because as soon as something makes sense to me, I start liking it less. As a kid, I had a real steering wheel from an old car and used it to run around my room simulating racing. I don't think I understood what I was doing back then. it was a game

Seems you're a hopeless romantic. Are you living the boy's dream from back then? (laughs) Yes, a large part of my entry into racing was pure naivety - that's for sure.

What kind of car do you actually own today? A van. For my surfboard and my family.