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storiesbyrhi · 3 months

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Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline

Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence/some infrequent gore, swearing, animal death, no beta, death in childbirth (mentioned, not described), abusive parents, suicide, spiders/bugs, grief/mourning; light smut; blood; murder

Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?

Chapter Summary: The end. 4047 words.

1987 The new year

“Do you think she’ll like it?”

Mel nodded. “She will.”

He looked at their creation; it had to be perfect. Eddie wasn’t sure a thing like him was capable of perfection, but for you, he’d try. “Thank you,”

“No problem,” Mel replied, nonchalance in tone but Eddie knew her better than that.

“I mean it, Melissa. You’re a good friend to her. To me.”

Mel squirmed under Eddie’s serious gaze. She blushed, shrugging, and turning to leave.

“Just before you go!” Eddie rushed to say. “I, ah… I heard that you had discovered how Steve Harrington came to haunt you?”

Her head tilted in reply, just a curious small movement that meant to ask how he’d heard about it.

“Hailey mentioned it… Said you’d been working with Ev on…” Eddie paused, unsure what to call it. “Death… craft?”

Mel almost laughed. “Some of us know our magic early. We figure out our abilities. Others… like me… Haven’t entirely grasped the scope of what we can do… I, apparently, channel ghosts… Or something like that,”

“Something like that,” he repeated. “And, the door is open now?”

Steve Harrington’s ghost did a lot of things. One of them was leaving a door between the living and the dead open. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on who you asked, that particular door existed somewhere within Mel.

Mel considered Eddie’s questions. The painfully earnest and hopeful expression on his face. He looked almost human.

“I don’t know how it works. I can’t control it properly. If that’s what you’re asking for,” she told him.

Eddie nodded and looked down at the wet grass. He kicked at it a little, droplets flicking around. It would dry soon, under their creation. The January cold rendered unaffecting.

“I… I thought you never really had…”

“A family? Anyone who cared about me?” Eddie finished for Mel. She winced at his bitterness. “Sorry… I did not mean for that to come out like that… My mother died having me. She’s who… I thought maybe…”

If any of the other witches had been standing in Mel’s place, they would have been offering already. They would have been consoling or planning or promising. But it wasn’t them. It was Mel. And Mel did what she did best. She listened.

“If she is there… Wherever there is. On the other side. If she’s there and has always been there, I want to make sure she sees this. I need to know she didn’t see what I had become and turn away in shame. I need her to know that…” Eddie’s jaw clenched. He felt raw and exposed. “I want her to know…”

Mel approached Eddie like he was an injured animal. She was intuitive; she knew that was exactly what he was. Slowly, she put her hand on his arm. “We can try. I’ll try.”

…

You frowned at the tiny white petals. How they formed dozens of flowers. And how the flowers grouped together and grew wildly. Yarrow. Yarrow was growing from your bed. Following the stem down to the wooden frame, you found no glue or magic trick. Yarrow was, very literally and quite suddenly, growing from your bed.

“Do you know anything about this?” you asked Eddie when he wandered into the room.

“I thought it was you,”

“Why would it be me?”

He snorted. “Because you are constantly gardening in unorthodox places,”

“I am?”

“You are.”

Eddie loved the surprised and confused expression on your face. Sometimes you knew yourself well. Other times, not at all. He detoured from what he was doing to pull you into a hug.

“Perhaps it is an omen,”

“Not one that I know of,”

“And, of course, you do know all,” he teased.

He loved the faux-annoyed squeaking sound you made. He loved how you melted into him, still eyeing the yarrow suspiciously. God, he loved you.

“Speaking of mysterious,” you said, pushing off him with your palms flat to his chest. “What were you and Mel doing this morning?”

“I accompanied her on her morning walk. You know what happens to her back if she doesn’t go on her muscle tension walks.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and hummed. “Once is happenstance. Two is a coincidence. But three… If one more out of the ordinary thing comes to pass…”

“You’ll what?” Eddie poked, shaking his head at you. It was difficult to hide anything from you, but he could not wait to tell Kelsey about the yarrow. She had been right.

You said nothing, just trust-fell back into his arms.

“I asked her about what she’s been doing with Ev,” Eddie confessed. He kicked himself for not thinking of the cover sooner. Nothing worked better than the truth.

“The ghost stuff?”

“Yes. I’ve been thinking about my mother.”

That got your attention. You stepped out of the hug again.

“Don’t look at me like that,”

“Like what?” you asked.

“Like I’m a poor broken bat once more,”

“That’s not what I think of you. You know that,”

“And yet you look wounded on my behalf,” he stated bluntly.

You nodded. “Sorry. I’m sorry… Um… Can she do it? Mel?”

Eddie shrugged. “She doesn’t know. She’ll try.”

You nodded again. “Can I ask… why? Or… maybe… What do you want to ask your mother?”

“Nothing. There’s nothing I can ask of her. I just want her to know that this is it.” Eddie gestured to himself as he spoke.

“You mean you? That this is your… final form, so to speak?”

“Yeah… And it would be… nice… to meet her. And for her to meet you.”

The room was quiet for only a second. Then, “If it doesn’t work with Mel, I can try. We can-”

Eddie silenced you with a kiss. The conversation didn’t need to happen. He knew you’d go to the ends of your magic for him. And nothing about that was taken for granted.

…

The sun was only just rising on the final day of January. It had been a cold winter. Snow had fallen on Hawkins in blankets, not thawing even when the weatherman promised it would. You would not let Hawkins burn anymore, so you cleansed it with water instead.

Eddie had spent the night asleep, curled up in his bat form with you. As the bedroom slowly lit up, you mumbled out the spell and he was back in his body.

“My love,” he whispered, lips cool on your neck. “I sensed your sleep was alive with story,”

“That-” a yawn, “-is a very dramatic way of asking if I dreamt. Almost Shakespearian,”

“You dreamt a dream tonight?”

“Yes, but dreamers often lie,” you recited back.

“In bed asleep, while they do dream things true,”

“Alright. End scene. Besides… I don’t think you want my dream to come true. You were in it and you were not happy,” you told him, wriggling yourself backward to be as spooned into him as possible.

“Do tell.”

It took a moment to catch the sleeping story before it faded into nothingness. Likely, it was inspired by your spell making project; it had begun as a joke, but you were sure you could resize yourself small enough to quite literally ride bat Eddie into the sunset.

“I was a bat too,” you started.

You had been a bat, swooping through pretty pink skies and fluffy white clouds. You’d chased shooting stars and nuzzled together with Eddie high up in Hawkins’ tallest trees. The other bats had kept their distance from you, as they had with Eddie. Then, the largest of the Eptesicus fuscus decided to gift you crunchy beetles and other tasty snacks.

“Wait!” Eddie interjected.

Before he could say anything, you cackled. “That is exactly what you did in the dream! You were very jealous that another bat wanted my attention,”

“What did the other bat want your attention for?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. It was a real bat. Not like us. So probably to make bat babies. Don’t worry. I was not into it in the dream. Nor am I in real life.”

Eddie squeezed you tight in his arms, making a small huffing sound.

“Jealous of a make-believe animal,” you snickered.

Eddie’s smile was pressed into the nape of your neck. You felt him drag his teeth along your skin. The rolling want rippled down your body. The scent of jasmine was still strong from their night bloom. You glanced at them on the bedroom windowsill.

“Quiz me?” Eddie asked then, sucking all the sensuality from the moment.

You audibly wined, much to his pleasure. “It’s so early,” you complained, though it wasn’t your greatest grievance.

“It’s never too early to learn the craft,”

“Ugh. Fine. But only because you’re cute.”

Eddie screeched celebratorily, letting you roll out of his arms and turn to face him. He sat up and clapped his hands together.

“Heliotrope oil?” you began.

“To induce premonitions,”

“Correct. Polypody?”

“Nightmares,”

“Buckthorn?”

“Protection,”

“Um… Celandine?”

“That,” Eddie pointed at you, “is a cantrip!” he accused. You raised an eyebrow. “Are you referring to greater celandine or lesser celandine?”

You laughed. “Eddie. I don’t know. It wasn’t a trick question. Which is the one with the superstition?”

“Greater,” he told you like it wasn’t funny. “And, so what if it is superstition? Isn’t that what we are?”

A spacey feeling overtook you for a moment. “Woah… déjà vu…” You shook it from your head and looked back at Eddie. “Oh god… You still want to answer the question, don’t you?”

“It can predict death, greater celandine. For someone with a terminal illness,”

“Can it? How does a flower do that?” you teased.

“Place a stem of it on their head. If they cry, they will live. If they begin to sing, they are doomed to death,”

“I wonder what they sing,”

“Another One Bites the Dust presumably,” Eddie answered without skipping a beat.

It was impossible not to laugh; whether it was because the joke was genuinely funny or because of the smug and expecting grin on Eddie’s face, it was hard to tell.

“So dumb!”

“Hey!” Eddie yelped, diving back under the covers and reaching out for you.

Some things needed to be studied to be mastered. You were learning how magic worked around the existence of Eddie. For his part, he was a student of the basics. Beginning with the very foundations of the craft. Other things needed not a guiding grimoire or senior supervision, for those things came easily -

Kisses trailing over the softness of your belly and down. Hands wrapped around Eddie, thumb circling the tip. Bloody bites licked clean and healed without scarring.

Your favourite part of sex was the moments just before Eddie climaxed. Somehow, in his monstrousness, a rumbling sound came from deep within him while he simultaneously made a pathetic whining noise. It was always eerie and beautiful and sexy.

Eddie’s favourite part was the moments just after, the way you came down from the high. A ragdoll body, fucked out and momentarily broken. He’d position you to be comfortable, leave you for a vampire second to get water and something sugary. You’d giggle, dumb, letting him tip the drink into your mouth. Often then, before sanity returned to either of you, you’d look at him with that expression. Do something weird, it would say, that pretty face of yours.

Eddie had forgotten what it felt like to have an alive, human body. He also loved to play the role of the freak. Loved to see how far he could go before you’d feel disgust. Loved you so fully and so intensely, that every part of your existence was a work of art all on its own.

Naturally then, he’d push his tongue up your nose. Use his fanged teeth to clean unidentifiable gunk from under your nails. Bite the tender flesh above your belly button, watch the blood pool, then body-shot it out. Spit in your mouth.

He’d lick you clean of sweat, reporting on the different flavours as he did so (the sweat that rolled down the small of your back was the best). Take strands of hair from your head and thread them through his teeth, pulling at them like dental floss. Lay his head on your body and listen to the sounds inside; he could tell you when you’d need to use the bathroom before you could even feel it.

Eddie catalogued your body in an effort to see if anything that it made was consumable to a vampire like blood was. Sweat and tears had made the list. Tears tasted salty sweet and none went to waste. He was like a truffle pig, sniffing his way across the plains of your body, searching ferally for that edible high.

You had yet to feel disgust. You doubted you ever would. It all made you feel so very loved so very desired.

Do something weird.

Eddie gripped your face and licked at it like a long-lost St. Bernard reunited with its owner.

“I have a surprise for you,” he whispered when he finished cleaning your face. You tasted like the chamomile balm you wore to bed.

“A surprise?” you whispered back.

Eddie nodded. “It’s in the woods,”

“But it’s so cold,” you complained, wriggling down into the heat of the bed.

“You’ll be warm soon. I promise. Let’s go.”

…

“It’s the right day,” Ash said to nobody in particular from her place at the window. She was keeping watch, tasked with sounding the alarm when you returned from the woods with Eddie. “The thirty-first. Three represents creativity and growth and self-expression. One for new beginnings. So, thirty-one is about pursuing your passions and starting a new chapter in your life. And, thirty-one is a manifestation number,”

“You do remember we were all raised by Jo ‘777’ Avery, right?” Hailey quipped. “We know what thirty-one means,”

“So does Eddie. He picked it on purpose,” Mel told them as she finished working on the apotropaic besom that would be placed on your front doorstep.

“Of course he did,” Meg said dreamily.

“Wait!” Kelsey’s eyes were wide. “Jo! Her soul cursed to take the shape of something she wasn’t… Like Eddie. What if-”

“It’s not the same. She did it to herself, remember? You can’t uncurse what went willingly into the hex,” Mel soberly offered.

The witches fell silent. Jo had been older than Sally and Gillian. Maybe even Penelope. She spent half her life in the mortal world, watching painters and sculptors and all the artists come and go. She was less muse and more quiet critic. In February of 1897, she grew ill. Jo called it heartsick. The angel numbers she had always relied on meant nothing anymore. Her life, instead, became guided by an American creative by the name of Ivan Le Lorraine Albright.

Jo watched him grow. Watched him paint. Watch his style linger on the wrong side of the cusp of brilliance. The coven often found her scribbling out spells and practicing rituals none of them recognised. Something was terribly wrong.

Then, one day in 1929, Jo conjured a monster named Ida. She poured herself into Ida. Magic and soul and all. Ivan painted frantically, a new style born, a master of the macabre crowned. As Ida was painted onto the canvas, Jo’s body faded into the abyss. Ida dragged her mother into the ink and they were no more.

The finished piece – Into the World There Came a Soul Called Ida – would be gifted to the Art Institute of Chicago. The coven sometimes visited Jo. Felt her there. Felt the energy behind the sick brushstrokes.

“Jo would have loved this. A witch and a vampire? The unholiness of it all?” Ev noted. She was sitting next to Meg, pulling petals from camellias, pansies, and cyclamens to scatter through your home. Meg held the bowl.

“We’ve always been like this. Haven’t we?” Ash asked.

“Driven into the shadows by love or madness?”

“No, I mean… Well, yes… But I think that part might just be womanhood. Hiding the unsanitary bits. I mean we as in witches. We have always broken our own rules,” Ash replied.

The coven hushed again. Throughout history, witches had fallen in love with humans and fae and other unblessed creatures. They had broken law and lore. They had crossed lines and made new ones. But somehow, you and Eddie had been punished the hardest. It didn’t make sense to them.

“I miss Jo,” Meg said.

“I miss them all,” Hailey agreed, her paintbrush going still, only ‘congrats’ coloured.

“So do I. But I’m still angry,” Kelsey admitted. “And I want to be better than them,”

“We are. Being here. Bearing witness to this…” Ev assured her.

“Can you imagine how not normal Jo would have been about Eddie’s teeth?” Meg laughed.

The coven giggled, then continued their snappy back-and-forth conversation while they waited. They speculated about guest lists. The humans? Probably. Cyprian the fae and Randy the wolf? Maybe. What remained of the Catskills coven? Unlikely. And what of tradition? Would the rings be passed from guest to guest, filling with love and best wishes? Handfasting?

When they ran out of things to place bets on, they tried to wring details from Mel about her sessions with Eddie and his mother. Though she was not sworn to secrecy, she already felt she was imposing on their privacy by being in the room. It was better when you were there. Eddie was happier and his mother was brighter. Both metaphorically and physically. The other witches were dying to know what happened during those tender and tragic moments, not realising that each of them had formed a personal and unique relationship with Eddie too.

Kels and Eddie felt like old friends, which of course, they were. They were as comfortable as siblings, which meant Eddie often gravitated toward her house when he was bored. When bickering, they’d refer to each other as Edward and Fern. You watched them playfight like puppies left alone.

Ev’s affinity for darkness lent itself to Eddie’s more nefarious side. She was his armorer and revelled in his stories of justice served. Hailey and Eddie had a two-person book club. Meg was teaching him how to cook and bake all of your favourites. And Ash, once she found out Eddie already knew how to sew, roped him into other textile crafts.

Kelsey looked down at the journal in her hands. The story of you and Eddie. She would write it all down. The lonely vampire. The little witch. The grief and betrayal. The bed of yarrow. The love, the love, oh, the love. Maybe, one day, you’d be gifted the book. Maybe not. Kelsey wasn’t sure how it all ended just yet. As she sat with her sisters, preparing for a party, she was only sure that you were all exactly where you were meant to be.

…

The January sunrise filtered through the flatlands. Rainbows refracted off snowflakes. The tips of your boots were already soaking through and it almost hurt to breathe. About halfway to the woods, Eddie had become a makeshift blindfold, hands covering your eyes, swearing that braving the cold would be worth it.

“Is this what you and Mel have been up to? Did you make a new gate or something?”

“You’ll see,” was all he’d say.

Are we going to breakfast with the foxes? That’d be nice.

Is there another bat that needs saving out here?

If you want to build a tree house, Kels is really who you should be waking up.

Did you find another mushroom circle and need me to identify if it’s fae or not?

You’ll see. You’ll see. You’ll see.

Then, you did.

“Okay… Open!”

Eddie’s hands left your face.

There, a structure. Not really a building. Something else. A dome. As tall as a house with a matching circumference.

“What…”

A dome that appeared to be solid. It had an opaque, matte coating. The harder you looked at it, the less you could tell if the trees were growing through it or if they’d been cut to shape. The dome shimmered, like a reflection on water. Like it wasn’t made to be looked at. Like it was offended at the mere thought of being looked at.

You took tentative steps towards it. Slowly, carefully, you reached out to touch the dome. It was hard. Real. And… warm?

Turning back to Eddie, he was watching you carefully.

“You win. I have no idea what this is,” you admitted.

With his best strut, Eddie walked by and knocked on the dome three times. A slit in the surface appeared. A door, ajar.

“After you,” Eddie invited.

You let the heat emanating from the dome pull you inside.

It was bright; you had no trouble seeing, but your brain was still struggling to process the information your senses were providing.

The shape of the dome had completely disappeared. You would have not known you were inside at all, if it weren’t for the snow and leaves falling, hitting something invisible above and around you, then sliding around it. Touching the wall, it still felt solid and hard, even if you couldn’t see it.

“It’s like… like a reverse snow globe…” you marvelled.

The air inside was warm and still, cut off from whatever was happening in the world. The dome muffled the sounds outside too. It wasn’t silent, but the whistling wind was muted into comforting white noise.

Eddie had followed you inside, clicking the door that could only be opened and closed by him into place. The magic in the spell was linked to Eddie. That meant it wouldn’t last forever, Mel had warned him. It would serve a purpose, then fade away.

Eddie didn’t need the dome forever, only a moment. You were his forever. If all went well.

You’d started to rub your hands over the warm grass and dry bark of the trees. They hadn’t been touched by the snow in days, you figured. They’d shaken winter off in the greenhouse environment.

Eddie had to say your name three times to pull your attention to him. He folded himself down onto the ground next to you.

“This is beautiful… This is what you and Mel were doing out here?” you asked, too in awe of the dome to see the beautiful determination on Eddie’s face.

He nodded, reaching out to catch your chin in his hand, gently redirecting your gaze to him. “My little witch…”

Your joy gave way to curiosity. Whatever he was doing, he’d not done it before.

“My love… I am the last of my kind at what feels like the beginning of my life; an endling, with no right to start something. But I defy that. Like I have defied… everything my life and death dared offer. Until you.”

There was something in his tone that had an immediate effect on you. Your nose tingled and your eyes stung. Eddie’s choice of words dipped back into the sixteenth century when he was most serious. He lost the carefree cadence of the 1980s.

“I have loved you from the moment I saw you. I love you more every single time I see you. Blood of my blood. Body of my body. Soul of my soul.”

The gravity of the moment got caught in your throat. It was with dizzying clarity you reached out for Eddie, for stability. He took your hands and tangled his fingers between yours.

“I was born for nothing but this, but I would live it all again if it brought me to you. The agony of life and the loneliness of death. The void of a hex. I would do it all again and again if it kept me on a pathway to you.”

You were cemented still in the darkness of his eyes. Jaw clenched, breath still, mouth dry. Something smelt of yarrow and apple, though you were not of the mindset to find the source. More than likely, there wasn’t one at all.

“My little witch, all that I have is yours. All that I am, I give freely. Would you seal my fate and bless me with your hand in marriage?”

End note: 92,965 words and we have come to the end of our story. I have been writing this for over a year and have poured so, so much time, love, energy, and commitment into it. So much of my soul is in these pages.

Whatever you came for - entertainment, escapism, Eddie, witchcraft, company, love - I hope you found in Burning Yarrow.

I would deeply appreciate to hear from you. Even if you can't quantify or consolidate your feelings into words, just a little note to let me know that this project has meant something to someone other than me.

Finally, thank you to the real life Kelsey/Kelso @toomanyacorns and real life Mel @kookygranger for the historical knowledge and witchy inspiration. And to all the other women who snuck their way into this world. I love you all!

Until next story... xo Rhi

P.S. The Grimoire and timeline Tumblr posts are complete.

P.P.S. Thank you to the following freaks for helping me think of weird shit for Eddie to do in chapter 31: @jo-harrington @myosotisa @bettyfrommars @mopeymopeymouse @munson-blurbs

Fic Taglist: @paranoidmunson @idkidknemore @paprikaquinn @stardustworlds @loz-brooke @wyverntatty @vintagehellfire @dark-academia-slut @scarletwitchwhore @becks1002 @mrsdollardog @heyndrix @luceneraium @rosaline-black @devilinthepalemoonlite @goldencherriess @iamwhisperingstars @wiltedwonderland @blueywrites @breezybeesposts @jadehowlettthewolf @spikesvamp79 @foreveranexpatsposts @tortoiseshellspells @wingedpeachjudgegiant @stardustmunson @live-love-be-unique @fangirling-4-ever @reanimated-alice @b-irock @gh0stlybunnie @myown-worstenemy-2003 @woozzz @cyberxlust @hiscrimsonangel @buckysbarne @m00nlight101 @word-wytch @spicysix @briasnow-blog @goth-cowgirl-03

@pastel-pillows @moviefreak1205 @awkward00noodle

All Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @sweetpeapod @thorfemmes @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @mel-the-fangirl @eddies-hid3out @siren-lungs @aheadfullofsteverogers @hiscrimsonangel @dashingdeb16 @cultish-corner

#Mine #Burning Yarrow #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson/Reader #Eddie Munson/You #Eddie Munson x You #Eddie Munson x Reader #Vampire!Eddie Munson

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storiesbyrhi · 4 months

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Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline

Chapter Summary: Seven witches and a vampire walk into a human Halloween party in Hawkins, Indiana. 3676 words.

1986

When the witches came to Hawkins, only the animals sensed a change. Squirrels and cottontail rabbits played in the fields. Foxes and deer lined the horizon. Bats swooped, each of them enamored with Eddie – a bat, from what they could tell, but different.

“They think I’m a God,” Eddie had told you once he realised the influence he had on them.

You’d laughed at him. “Well, I think they think you’re a fun toy.”

The flatlands that sprouted homes were surrounded by a fauna-filled welcoming party that would have given any mortal driving by a heart attack. Naturally, you’d been building wards and glamours to keep the coven safe.

When you felt your sisters close, you walked by each of their homes. Eddie had made good on his promise to give them something. Beside the front door to each of the houses was a potted plant that he had grown. The plants he chose were, to him, symbolic of the witch who would take over care of it.

Asphodel for Ev, carolina for Meg, globe thistle for Mel, bluebell for Ash, lycoris for Hailey, and though a little cheesy, a black bat plant for Kelsey.

The fall sun was out, so Eddie would see the witches’ arrival in his small and fluffy form. He settled on your shoulder as you stood and watched the cars go from pinpricks on the horizon to loud and finally, finally, here.

Meg came screaming out of her car. “Does he want pats?!” She bypassed you entirely, holding her hands out for Eddie. If he felt demeaned, he didn’t let on. Eddie let Meg scoop him up and cradle him in her hands. She wandered off with no further greetings.

“How’s he gonna feel about that?” Kelsey asked, pulling you into a hug immediately.

“He is very preoccupied with making a good impression. It’s sweet actually. So… he will probably let her baby him for hours.”

She laughed then looked at you seriously. “Hi,”

“Hi,”

“I’ve missed you,”

“Stop, you’ll make me cry,” you said, holding in your feelings. “So, uh, where…” Turning around, you saw Meg and Mel’s empty cars. “Where are the others?”

“Uh… There’s Ev,” Kelsey pointed.

Ev was already on the edge of the woods, befriending the fox family you’d come to love. A little further in, Mel was taking photos of the old trees.

Suddenly, Hailey’s voice cut through the air. “Every room has bookshelves!”

As you and Kelsey walked to Hailey’s house, you noticed Ash, suspiciously whispering into her garden of dahlias, pointing to the bluebell Eddie left on her porch.

“Guess the fae boyfriend’s moving in too,”

“She told you?!” you screeched.

“And you told Eddie, guessing by that bluebell,”

“Oh, if you think that’s on the nose, wait till you see what he picked for you.”

…

By the last week of October, your coven was well on its way to establishment. Each witch had a list of things they felt were required to feel at home. Mostly, they worked on their houses and gardens. More wards were put in place not only around the valley but around all of Hawkins. The witches embedded themselves in the fabric of the town, starting the long process of helping it flourish again.

Your sisters were excited at the extended invitation to the Byers Halloween party by Dustin. Costumes were the topic of conversation over forest walks and shared dinners. Eddie continued to charm everyone with his mysteriousness when asked what he would be going as. Bets were being placed. He’d pick something cool or clever. He’d be beautiful.

…

You could not have been more different if you tried.

Eddie wore his hair in a low bun. The blue long-sleeved polo shirt and dark bootcut jeans were so normal it made you feel uncomfortable. As requested, you’d performed a simple illusion spell to make his black boots appear brown. It was only when he held the round, orange, plush toy cat did it make any sense.

“Jon Arbuckle,” he announced.

“No, yeah, I figured when you got the toy at Walmart… It’s just… You look…”

Eddie grinned. He saw how unsettled you were.

“I… Um. I think you need something else,” you told him. Reaching out for his ginger cat, he let you take it. Closing your eyes and expanding the illusion spell, you charmed the toy into looking like the actual Garfield. “Here… This helps.”

Eddie took the cat with a shrug. “And you?” He looked you up and down with a predatory gaze. It made your spine arch involuntarily. “I’m afraid I do not recognise this character.”

There was no magic in your costume – just good old fashion arts and crafts. You wore a very, very long yellow-blonde wig and a golden headpiece with a red jewel at its center. Your white dress was also adorned with golden armour. The knee-high boots were painted gold too. More painted plastic armour on your arms and a plastic sword held high.

“Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-Raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!” you proclaimed. “Princess of Power!”

Eddie cackled.

“She’s from Masters of the Universe. She’s very, very cool,”

“I believe you,” Eddie replied. “You look every part the Princess of Power.”

When you joined the coven by the cars, each looked more confused than the last. Kelsey was the first to break the silence.

“Uh… Nice costumes,” she said.

“This is Garfield,” Eddie replied, holding the cat out.

“It sure is, buddy. This isn’t going to weird the humans out at all.”

Kelsey and Mel sat in the back of your car as you drove.

“The makeup suits you,” Eddie told Mel.

“Yeah, I know this is a costume, but this look is like… It’s working for you,” you added.

Mel, in her Siouxie-best black just shrugged. “Stole a lot of the clothes from Ev.”

In Meg’s car, Ash was giving the other three witches a stern talking to about what she believed were ‘cop out’ costumes.

“Dude, I’m not in costume,” Meg argued. “These are just my clothes!”

“Every year you do this, Ash…”

“What’s the point in being a witch if you don’t do Halloween?” she frowned.

“What’s the point in going as Sandy if you don’t have someone going as Danny?” Hailey asked.

“Maybe she does,” Meg mumbled.

All the girls whispered out little ohhhhhhhhs at Ash’s expense. They wondered, pointedly and out loud, if fae do Halloween. What does a fairy dressed like Danny Zuko look like anyway?

“I left the Catskills for this?” Ash whined, secretly amused, and very much comforted by the fact the coven seemed to be accepting of her fae friend.

…

“You came!” Robin was very drunk, therefore unable to hide her true emotions, which were a combination of surprise, fear, excitement, and grief.

“I’m Jon and this is Garfield,” Eddie introduced before you could say anything.

Robin looked at him carefully. “I kinda thought you’d, you know, come as Dracula or something,”

“He’s aiming for soft and harmless,” you explained. “But if you want stereotypical vampire, Ev’s got you covered.”

Ev waved and bared her plastic fangs.

“Riiiight…” Robin said slowly.

“YOU CAME!” Dustin yelled, pushing Robin out of the way, and beaming with pure excitement. “Oh, hey, cool costume!” he complimented Eddie. “I like your Garfield. Nice touch,”

“Thank you,”

“So, do you have to be, like, invited in formally?” he asked, voice lowering, though the music was so loud nobody would be able to hear him anyway.

“Only because I’m house trained,” Eddie whispered back.

Dustin laughed, pointing to him. “Funny. I like a… funny… vampire, I guess… Come in!”

It was only a little before 10:00 pm but the party was already raging. The Byers’ house was filled with people, some of whom you knew, some not. Everybody needed an excuse to let loose and pretend to be okay for a little while, and you felt they were owed at least that.

The backyard was lit with party lights and whatever else could be hooked up to the power. The moon was waning, with barely 4% illumination. The night was dark and cool, and fires burned in emptied-out oil kegs.

It did not take long for your coven to splinter off and enjoy the night. You sipped at the purple coloured punch Robin offered you, surprised that it had much of an effect on you at all.

“Russian recipe,” Hopper grunted as his eyes followed Eddie around the party.

Eddie, who could not drink the punch, was designated driver one of two. Sobriety would not impede his fun though. As it were, nobody would let anything impede their fun.

…

Seven witches and a vampire walk into a human Halloween party in Hawkins, Indiana.

10:14 pm

Hailey introduced herself to Nancy in the kitchen. Nancy was distracting herself from all the things brewing in her unconscious by opening bags of chips and unnecessarily pouring them into bowls.

“Is Pride and Prejudice your favourite of Jane’s work?” Hailey asked.

Nancy looked at her. “Nobody’s recognised me.” The Elizabeth Bennet costume was accurate, albeit not exactly iconic.

Hailey smiled. “You look great.”

Nancy blushed, shook her head a little. “It’s hard to pick a favourite,”

“Tell me about it. Lizzy’s got to be one of her best characters though.” She left out the part about how she’d helped Jane Austen shape Lizzy into something more than what society expected of a woman, let alone a woman in story.

Nancy nodded. “You… Sorry, what are you?”

“I’m a witch.”

Nancy hesitated. “Oh… Yes, but… What are you dressed as?”

“I’m a witch,” Hailey repeated.

“You’re a real witch who dressed up as a-”

“A witch, yeah.”

Nancy still looked confused.

“See, I have a broom.”

10:28 pm

One was in a lab coat, the other in a red puffy vest. One held a huge remote made of cardboard and glue, the other a video camera.

“You really committed,” you praised them.

“We tried to get Jonathan to come as the DeLorean but he’s trying to look cool for Nancy,” Will explained.

“I think the DeLorean is very impressive,” El added. “It would be a cool costume.”

You nodded. “He could have made it a Transformer situation… So, what did he end up coming as? I couldn’t work it out,”

“Joe Strummer,” Will replied.

“Ah, right.”

Honestly, Jonathan looked like he could have been Joe Strummer or James Dean or a young Lou Reed. Maybe one of the Beat Generation guys. All those white poet musician types ended up looking the same to you.

10:43 pm

Dustin followed Meg through the house, entirely unconvinced. “That’s gotta be a costume,”

“No, Dustin, these are just my clothes,”

“But you look like a pilgrim!”

Meg looked down at her floor length skirt. The billowing cotton. The soft corset cinching her waist. “I mean… I am hundreds of years old… and I take really good care of my clothes.”

Dustin’s mouth was agape. “But you’re magic! You have real magic and you don’t even use it to make a badass costume? And you’re a witch! Aren’t you contractually obliged to celebrate Halloween?”

“No,” Meg replied with a casual shrug. “Why are you interrogating me? There are much more worthy victims in this coven then me,”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, apparently your friend Steve Harrington is haunting Mel. And Ev is dating a werewolf, so…” And with that Meg walked away from Dustin, smirking at the chaos she’d caused.

11:02 pm

You sat in a plastic chair that was probably too close to the open flames in front of it. As you pulled it back and lined it next to Joyce, she smiled at you.

“How’s your night?” she asked politely.

“Uh… Interesting… Yours?”

She nodded and you knew what she meant. “You seem different,” she told you.

You sighed, nodded as she had. “I am. We all are, I think,”

“I think so too.”

Together you sat in comfortable silence and watched the happiness of the party.

“I was glad, you know, when I heard you were staying. Hawkins needs…”

“Help?” you guessed.

Joyce nodded. “And hope. You and your friends… It’s good.”

11:36 pm

“Why didn’t he come? It’s not like it’s a full moon,” Mike Wheeler asked Ev.

“He wasn’t invited,” she answered, looking over the top of him, searching for someone to save her from the teenage conversation.

“Ohhhhh, is it like… Like how vampires can only come in when invited? Did the stories get it wrong and that’s actually werewol-” Lucas Sinclair tried.

“No! Not like that,”

“Is it like when we all thought Dustin’s girlfriend wasn’t real because we never saw her,” Mike asked Lucas then.

“He’s real,” Ev assured them.

“Suzie’s real too,” Lucas began to explain. “They met at camp and-”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s great. Um, who told you about him? My boyfriend, I mean. Who told you?”

Mike and Lucas looked at each other, neither wanting to be the rat.

12:01 am

“You have somewhere to be?” Mel asked Eddie when she saw him watching the clock above the fireplace.

He smiled. “No. It’s… Midnight… Always feels like something is going to happen when the clock strikes twelve,”

“Sometimes it does,”

“Sometimes it does,” he agreed.

12:23 am

The juxtaposition of Erica’s soft face next to all the faux leather, duct tape, and corn syrup blood was both amusing and disconcerting.

“I thought Mad Max was Lucas’ girlfriend’s thing?” you asked her.

Erica was in the kitchen, mixing a feral concoction she was probably going to offer to her brother and all his friends. Not you though. You got a genuine Erica Sinclair smile.

“She’s still in the hospital,”

“What? Why’d nobody tell me? I’ll go and-”

“We don’t know where. Her mum took her. Wouldn’t tell Lucas anything.”

It would be easy for you to find Max. To find her and heal her. It felt a lot like meddling in human affairs though. But what were you now if not a witch that meddled? What was the worth of a rule if it prevented you from helping a teenage girl get out of pain sooner?

Erica saw it on your face. She knew scheming when she saw it. “Oh, you gonna go do some witchy stuff?”

“Maybe… So… the costume,”

“Lucas already gave me shit about it, okay?”

“Oh, no, I was gonna say it’s a cool thing to do. An ode to Max.”

Erica poured some Pabst into a red plastic cup. “To Max,”

“To Max,” you cheered. “Wait… How old are you? Gimme that.”

12.46 am

Nancy and Jonathan danced together in a bubble of their own. It didn’t matter the tempo of the song or if anyone else was on the lounge room dancefloor. They danced.

1:14 am

“Are you kidding me?! Of course you should!”

“I think there are more than enough books and films to satisfy the human curiosity for the undead,”

“Yeah, but none written by an actual undead,” Dustin continued to argue. He’d been going at it for ten minutes straight. “If you won’t write your own story, Interview with the Vampire style, then you should write about all the others… About what they get right. What they get wrong,”

“And what point would that serve?” Eddie asked.

“Well, I would want to read a book by a real vampire,”

“It may not be in the best interests of anyone to discover that vampires were indeed real. Nor that witches are. Nor the horrors that have befallen your town, Dustin,”

“No! No, man. We gotta get the truth out there!”

1:32 am

Robin and Mel found a quiet patch of grass to lie back on.

“So… He just showed up?”

“Yeah,”

“And you’ve never met him?”

“No,”

“And he doesn’t want anything?”

Mel shrugged. “I don’t know… I don’t think he really knows what he’s doing here. He could move on if he wanted.”

Robin thought about it. “What’s the afterlife like? For us, I mean?”

“For humans? We don’t know exactly. It’s almost like there is an infinite number of possibilities…”

“But Steve – Steve Harrington – has decided to haunt a witch he’s never met?”

Mel shrugged again. “I don’t think it says anything about you or the others that he’s not haunted you instead… I think he probably wants to let you all move on.”

Robin sighed deeply. “You got some sort of potion to help with that?”

“There’s no cure to grief, magical or otherwise…” Mel said softly.

“I was afraid you’d say that,” Robin replied, her fists twisting into the grass and pulling the blades free from the soil.

2:07 am

“I guess that’s what a fae Danny Zuko looks like,” Ev deadpanned.

She stood next to Kels, watching as Ash and the tiny winged creature danced around one of the drum fires. The fairy was dressed from head to toe in leather. He had glittering tanned skin and dirty blonde curls cut into a typical 80s mullet.

“She looks happy,” Kels said.

“Mmm,” Ev hummed. “Did you hear his name? Cyprian,”

“Yeah, you’re right, a fae named Cyprian is a lot better than a werewolf named Randy.”

Before Ev could respond, Lucas appeared next to the witches. “What is that?”

“That, my mortal friend, is a witch dancing with one of the fae,” Kelsey explained, wrapping an arm around Lucas’ shoulder.

“Why does it look like Billy Hargrove?”

“He, not it, and I don’t know who Billy Hargrove is, but if he’s half as hot as that fairy is, then cheers to Billy Hargrove.”

2:39 am

The night was burning away fast, you couldn’t slow it down. There was something so beautifully human about it that you wanted to keep safe. Wanted to hold it in your hands. Be in it forever.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Eddie’s voice whispered in your ear and his arms wrapped around your waist. He caught you leaning against the back door frame, watching the world go by. His head came to rest on your shoulder.

“It has all been worth it,” you told him. “Everything we did. For them. To get them here. Everything that happened had to happen, the exact way it did.”

They were not without their scars and their grief. They were changed and could never go back. But they were alive and hopeful and strong. Your strange little humans. You’d watch over them for generations to come.

3:13 am

“Magic begins when our bodies come right to the edge of their sensory and linguistic abilities and… something… keeps going anyway…”

The party had begun to wind down. Most of the witches were getting ready to leave, and the human population had thinned out to a handful of people.

Eddie was towards the back of the assembled crowd, watching you intently.

“And now, in the witching hour when the veil is so thin… The air is thick with witchcraft.”

You were using your most dramatic voice as you strutted around a drum of fire, the entire party’s attention on you. The humans were wide-eyed and hushed.

“In this place and in this hour, we may manifest what was not there into existence…”

Your sisters were trying not to laugh.

“Who will be brave and make their wish?” you posed to the crowd.

For a moment it was silent, only the crackling of the flames audible. Even the music had been turned off. Then, someone cleared their throat and stepped forward.

“Yeah, I wanna make a wish,” Erica declared, looking entirely unbothered by the mystique. If anything, she looked like this wish was her birthright.

You conjured a candle in your hand and held it out to her. “Courage, dear heart,” you told her.

3:52 am

“The first train out of town is leaving. Come on!” Meg yelled.

Mel, Ash, Ev, and Hailey said their goodbyes and followed Meg out of the Byers’ house.

“Family breakfast tomorrow?” Ash asked you as she hugged you goodnight.

“I’ll make pancakes. Better make it a brunch though,”

“Cool. Good luck with that one,” she laughed, nodding over to where Kels had Hopper cornered and ten points deep in an argument about whether hotdogs constitute sandwiches.

“Hot dogs are a sandwich. A sandwich consists of two pieces of a type of bread plus fillings contained within the two slices. A hotdog bun is a bun sliced in two, making it two slices of bread. The only difference being that one side of the two halves are still joined. It still however, is two halves that are obviously independent of each other with a filling separating them, therefore a sandwich. One might ask, ‘well in that case, is a calzone a sandwich?’ No. A calzone is enclosed entirely in bread. The two halves are entirely connected. This makes it fit into the pie category. Not the same as a sandwich, but parallel. One might also say, ‘well what if I don't have a bun, so I use a piece of bread as a substitute.’ Yes, using only one slice of bread no longer puts it into the sandwich category. This now aligns us into the toast category. Toast being a single slice of bread being used as a vehicle for a topping.”

4:20 am

“Five! Four! Three! Two! One!” Jonathan counted down.

The clock above the fireplace struck twenty minutes past four and the room of teenagers and young adults cheered.

4:37 am

The drive home was peaceful; you kept the radio low and listened to the first rumbles of a storm that was brewing way over beyond Indianapolis. It would arrive tomorrow afternoon. You could smell it in the air.

“They’re special,” Kelsey said from the passenger seat next to you. “Your humans,”

“Even if some of them think a hotdog is not a sandwich?”

“Even if some of them think a hotdog is not a sandwich.”

After seeing Kels into her house, you and Eddie finally retired to your home.

“Happy Halloween, my beautiful little witch,” Eddie cooed when you crawled into bed with him.

“Happy Halloween, my lovely, lovely, vampire.”

End Note: Sorry for going a little M.I.A. I had writers' block (still do) and have felt a weird sort of disconnect from my online world. I'm slowly getting back into it though.

Accurate: the moon phase for October 31, 1986. Not accurate: 420 being associated with weed in 1986, I think that happened sometime in the 90s.

Also, I took a quote from A Spell in the Wild by Alice Tarbuck and paraphrased it a bit ( “Witchcraft starts when our bodies come right up to the edge of their sensory and linguistic abilities and life keeps going anyway.”).

Finally, the hotdog/sandwich argument is a direct quote from the irl Kelso, my inspo for Kelsey.

#Mine #burning Yarrow #Eddie Munson #Vampire!Eddie Munson #Bat!Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson/You #Eddie Munson x You #Eddie Munson/Reader #Eddie Munson x Reader

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