#back to whatever the hell else I was doing that I've forgotten!

[monty-glasses-roxy]

Welp. For the sake of sharing, what I found in my control f searching of Fazbear Frights flavoured Tubehell that had interesting sounding minor animatronics in them on the wiki... is that robotics classes are extremely common in the fnaf universe. And here's the information on minor animatronics I got:

The Breaking Wheel has three described animatronics. A monkey, a spider skeleton and a horse skeleton. The monkey is your typical monkey that smashes cymbals together thing, and is used to shut the classroom up. The spider is an exoskeleton of a spider and climbs the wall to put lightbulb stickers next to people's names on a participation chart thingo. The horse is also an exoskeleton thing, and whenever the teacher wants to demonstrate a type of actuator thing, she has it trot between the rows of desks. Very cool for a classroom! Not sure I'd get much use out of that, but I just think they're neat!

Together Forever has a bunch of lil guys and Rosie Porkchop who isn't a minor animatronic. Rosie is a springlock suit that some dipshit teacher just hands over to his two teenage students with no warning except the papers or whatever that came with her so you can probably guess where that's going. She's a fuzzy pig in a pink, frilly made costume, and has a massive stomach compartment that can house two teenagers, so she's doing better than Glam Freddy on that one lmao. Also she's fucking huge. She's neat.

The minor animatronics in Together Forever are annoyingly described in one big clump, except weirdly the flamingo. They're all bipedal, and have different accessories and articles of clothing, but who has what outside of the random ass flamingo is unspecified. There's alien looking things, cats, dogs, a cow, a horse, an orangutan and a goat. The flamingo wears shorts and suspenders, and one of the dogs has a yellow jumper. They're all described as being small, and a couple wear bow ties and vests, two wear feather boas, one wears a bowler hat, one wears stripey socks and one wears red gloves. Who wears what? No idea! Outside that, they're apparently old and considered vintage, but all of them are still repairable, so there's that.

And then of course, Felix the Shark has Felix the Shark lmao. Big guy. Huge. Shark shaped, blueish grey, rubbery skin, smooth and shiny, with a lotta teeth and playful yet sad dark eyes. But ya know, when the dumbass protag finds him, those eyes are empty and dead, the skin is tattered, peeling off in stripes that leave holes that show the corroded endoskeleton, and his teeh are rusty as fuck. One eye is black and hanging out the socket too. Beloved sharky boy.

And there's my findings! Felix was rescued from Tubehell a long time ago, but now I'm nabbing the unloved other guys. They're mine now. What am I gonna do with them? No idea. I'll think of something.

[alectoperdita]

I woke up possessed by something this morning and banged out the last parts of some joukai smut from a chapter 3 of Duelist's Pride. Given that I haven't written chapter 2 or published anything else in a while, I'm just gonna dump it here.

And yes, this continues on the theme of more joukai CNC.

Under the cut due to explicit sexual content, purposefully porn-worthy dirty talk, dom/sub overtones, humiliation kink, comeplay, ass to mouth, and light dacryphilia (might be other stuff I've forgotten, sorry I haven't even proofread this thing)

---

"Your ass' got a nice bounce to it now. Must be 'cuz of the cream I've been pumping into ya."

A hard smack across his butt cheek made him clench fiercely.

"Whaddaya say, Kaiba? Should I keep creaming your ass pussy until you got a nice, round bubble butt?"

Slap. Pummel. Slap. Pummel. Each strike of hand and cock shot his scrambled nerves to hell. Kaiba merely whined, drool flowing over his lips and dripping down the window glass. Not that Jounouchi cared to hear his answer. He was always going to do whatever he wanted. The brute only cared about getting his dick wet inside Kaiba's increasingly spongy hole.

The next spank flipped a switch in Kaiba's head, blanking his thoughts. A switch that made his orgasm go on for seemingly forever as his ass suckled on Jounouchi's cock. His hanging erection jerked and jumped between his splayed legs, shooting semen like a pissing animal.

His stomach gave a funny lurch as heat bloomed inside him. For a maddening moment, he wondered if it was another orgasm right on the tail of his last.

"Fuck yeah, a whore like you can't resist cream pies," grunted Jounouchi in his ear. He was panting like a dog yet Kaiba couldn't muster the brain cells to mock him. "Take it. Feel it? I'm painting your insides white. You're never getting rid of me."

Jounouchi's load made him keen anew. Kaiba trembled. The heat scoured him. It seeped into his furthest nooks and crannies. No matter how deep he tried to reach and scrap it clean, a part of him would always be branded by Jounouchi's claim.

He hadn't realized he was pushing back onto Jounouchi's pulsing cock until a sudden hand on his jaw tilted his chin back. Their eyes, both dark and wild, locked. They mirrored each other's lust and desperation.

Jounouchi's nostrils flared, and he flattened Kaiba against the window again. His wet cock and hard nipples smeared against the glass. The painful drag on his sensitive parts tore another filthy moan from Kaiba.

Jounouchi humped him still. "You're mine, Kaiba." His voice was soft in contrast to the obscene sounds of Kaiba's used ass squelching. "And everyone can see it now too."

Fat tears rolled down his cheeks, mixing with the saliva and semen already staining the glass. Jounouchi had beaten him. Bested his will and broken him with the hammer strikes of his hard cock. Kaiba has lost himself completely to him, and he didn't even care anymore. Not about his pride or his reputation.

"Oh, baby, don't cry," Jounouchi cooed. A thumb wiped away a teardrop but more followed. "It just makes me wanna mess you up some more. Give you something to really cry about."

Against his will, his breath hitched at the hint of menace. His sobs intensified even as they got caught in his throat. His entire body was a livewire, and he couldn't stop shaking.

He couldn't take much more of this. Yet he might have to.

Maybe he deserved it. To have Jounouchi ruin him forever.

When Jounouchi withdrew from him, it felt like his ass was unplugged. There was the fain rustle of clothing as Jounouchi moved to the desk. Cool air rushed in to filled the space vacated by Jounouchi's cock. Gravity raked its fingers along his walls, dragging the cooling come to his entrance and turning it into an open bubbling fountain of depravity.

Kaiba didn't dare move. He barely breathed for fear of everything leaking out of him faster. Messier. The pool of wetness he was kneeling in continued to expand regardless.

A warm current of air heralded Jounouchi's return, settled right behind Kaiba again. Kaiba pre-emptively tensed even before thick fingers dipped into his gaping hole.

"God, you should see how pretty your ass is right now."

Three fingers curled and burrowed into him without mercy. He nearly hyperventilated when short, trimmed nails scraped across his tender walls. The stinging swiftly dulled as Jounouchi transitioned to massaging him. Pleasure sharpened in Kaiba's gut, much to his shame. The lazy thrusts of warm fingers and the slick sounds of himself being opened up again... Kaiba didn't know what to think. What to do.

Out of habit, he craned his head toward Jounouchi, seeking a familiar point of focus. But Jounouchi's attention wasn't on him. Both the camcorder and his gaze were aimed at Kaiba's ass. As if he was nothing more than his hole.

His breath hiccuped out of him. New tears pricked at the corner of his eyes.

Finally, Jounouchi's dark gaze flicked up to his face. His fingers peeled out of Kaiba next, and the recording followed their journey up to Kaiba's mouth. The wet finger pads slid across his lower lip, painting a balm. Kaiba swallowed, knowing very well what came next.

Jounouchi could force his mouth open. He could grab Kaiba's jaw and squeezed, threatening to break or dislocate it until Kaiba capitulated. Or he could hook a finger into the seam between his lips and pry his mouth open.

But he went a far more devastating route.

"Open," he commanded. His eyes twinkled wickedly behind the camcorder lens.

Another switch flipped in Kaiba's broken brain. His jaw yawned as wide as he could, showing off his teeth and tongue and tonsils to the recording.

"Fuck, Seto," Jounouchi swore. A crack in his character forming for the first time. It made him act even rougher as he crammed his fingers into Kaiba's waiting mouth.

Kaiba didn't need another command. He closed his mouth and eyes and sucked, drowning in the unspeakable shame of pleasure in such a humiliating act. He ran his tongue over the length of each finger, not caring if it made him drool. He could taste it. He could taste them, their combined essences—salty and bitter.

A moan rumbled deep in the recesses of his chest. Jounouchi pushed deeper. Kaiba welcomed the gagging sensation.

"You like that?" muttered Jounouchi.

Kaiba's eyelids fluttered open, and the sight of a red-faced Jounouchi greeted him. The camcorder was still running. The little red recording light blinked, but the shine in Jounouchi's eyes had softened, taking on more awe.

"If you want, I can keep you nice and full every damn day for the rest of you life."

In lieu of a verbal response, because Kaiba's verbal facilities were very much offline, he drew his mouth back until his lips kissed Jounouchi's fingertips. A rush swept over him when Jounouchi sucked in a sharp exhale, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed in rapid succession. Contentment tugged at the corner of Kaiba's lips, and he lavished the tips with several kittenish licks before slurping the fingers back into his mouth. He toyed with the shaking fingers, nipping lightly and sucking, as Jounouchi played with his mouth.

He had no idea how long this went on. But eventually, Jounouchi pulled his pruney fingers out of Kaiba's aching mouth. Kaiba shivered and panted as their wet tips trailed over his tacky cheek, before petting his hair gently. Lost, he gazed up at Jounouchi and the camera.

Jounouchi stroked his head again, smiling. "You did good, Seto." He set aside the camcorder and extended both arms.

A shudder ran through him. Clumsily, he peeled himself away from the window and collapsed in his lover's waiting embrace. "Katsuya," he croaked and clung to the man's shirt.

"I'm here. It's okay. I love you, Seto."

Jounouchi and Kaiba faded away, and only Katsuya and Seto remained in their places.

[riality-check]

part 3 of... whatever this au is. here's part 1 and part 2 if you missed them. tw substance abuse. part 4 here. part 5 here. part 6 here. part 7 here.

ao3

"You ever taken a hit?"

"Excuse me?"

First, Harrington calls his songs "boring" and "repetitive." "Talking about all the same thing." And, yeah, maybe he does have a point. Maybe Eddie can't write about much else, but that's a casualty of not being able to think about much else.

Everyone says addiction is selfish, and they're right. No one talks about how recovery is, too.

So, sorry that he's consumed by notoriously all-consuming things.

But then, Harrington shows up late to the studio. Granted, Eddie was, too, but Harrington stumbled into the little room fifteen minutes after the time Chrissy set up for them, ever-present coffee in hand.

And now he asks that.

"Like a punch," he explains. "Have you ever been hit?"

Eddie lets out a breath. "Yeah, I've been hit."

He thinks back to being a freshman in high school, what feels like forever ago, and getting shoved and tripped and swirlied by senior jock assholes.

There were never any closed-fist punches, but Eddie thinks he gets the idea.

"So you know that it feels good."

Eddie stares at him. "Good is not the word-"

"There's a moment," Harrington interrupts, and Eddie wants to kill him, "between the impact and the pain. You feel everything: how their hand feels, whether they're wearing rings, if they're holding something. And that might not feel good, but right after they hit you, everything is warm. And it feels really good, right until the pain sets in."

Eddie doesn't know what to say, not really, so he mouths off. "Got a lot of experience?"

"Four diagnosed concussions," Harrington replies.

Well. Eddie wasn't expecting that.

Just like he wasn't expecting Harrington's music to actually be good. He stayed up with the band last night, listening. And, yeah, he didn't like the goddamn synth chords, but reading along with the lyrics...

It was impressive. Eddie was impressed, okay?

Harrington's lyrics are far-ranging and emotionally impactful. He writes about family and love and survival in these really compelling, sometimes upbeat, sometimes not, ways. He writes about getting better and getting back up and fighting and Eddie gets it. He gets why Chrissy got his help.

Because not only is Harrington a rising star with a voice that Eddie thinks could be a little grittier if he put in the effort, but he also knows how to write about a lot of stuff.

And Eddie, since - since all of it, has clearly forgotten how to do so.

So, maybe, just maybe, he should start throwing his expectations about Harrington out the window.

"You know what it feels like," Harrington says. "So write about it."

Eddie sighs and lets his head flop onto the back of the couch. He hears Steve shift in his chair, hears him yawn.

In the silence, he wonders if he's sipping his coffee or covering his mouth like he did last week.

Eddie thinks that if he finds out the answer, he'll need a cigarette to kill the itch that'll inevitably spring up.

"Or not," Harrington mumbles.

Eddie drops his head forward. "Give a guy a second, will you? I don't know how-"

"Well, I'm here to help, not spoon-feed you lyrics."

"I didn't ask-"

"Oh, believe me, I know."

"Then why the hell-"

"Write about losing," Harrington snaps.

Eddie tilts his head to the side. "What?"

"You write about-"

"I know what I write about."

"Then you should know," Harrington says, raising his voice, "that there was a point where you wanted to give in."

Eddie shuts his mouth, and, despite his better instincts, leans forward, toward Harrington, far enough that his knees hit the coffee table between the couch and the chair.

"Because when you're fighting monsters, a little part of you thinks, it would be so much easier if I just lost. If I threw up my hands and let them get me."

Eddie thinks back to waking up after blackouts. To being carried places and dunked under cold water to sober the fuck up before we go out there. To figuring out ways to stay higher longer, refusing to be beholden to the inevitable crash.

And he hates that Steve Harrington has somehow found that out about him, however vaguely.

"Lot of experience with monsters?" Eddie says because damn if Harrington gets to cut him without getting cut back.

Harrington leans forward in turn. "You have no idea."

He picks up the black ballpoint pen on the coffee table and shoves it toward Eddie, toward his blank notepad.

Eddie bites his tongue, takes it, and writes lyrics and a lead guitar part in the fastest time he's ever managed, with Harrington as a sounding board, offering his suggestions.

They're good suggestions.

It's going to be a good song.

It's too bad that Eddie can't stand Harrington's smug smirks and his terrifying assumptions and his little bit of spaciness. It's too bad that after he sees Harrington swipe at his nose - even though it's probably not like that - when they're done that Eddie has to go outside and smoke two cigarettes to stop thinking about it.

Otherwise, they might actually make a good team.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Behind the Camera

A/N: I feel like I've been working on this one-shot for forever. . .Anyway, this all started because I had a dream about Eddie and Jonathan.

Summary: How Jonathan knew Eddie, what he really thinks of Steve, and the possibility of what might happen in season 5.

They didn't know how Jonathan knew Eddie, not even Will, who had been there in the music store the following spring after Will had gone missing. He remembered how Will talked about Eddie, who had taken the baseball that had been meant for Will. Eddie had made Will feel better for being called zombie boy. He made Will feel like there was nothing wrong with who he was . He still remembered the words Eddie had said to Will.

"To hell with what they think," Eddie had said. "They can call you whatever they want. That doesn't mean a single thing about them. At the end of the day, you're the only person who knows who you are. . .besides, Zombie Boy? As far as nicknames go, that one's metal as shit."

Then Eddie let know that when Will was ready for high school, there would be a place for him at Hellfire. It had touched Will so much and, in doing so, touched Jonathan. It had thrown Jonathan off, the wave of affection he had felt for the other guy. He thought the guy was cute, Jonathan realized. Later, when he got home, he thought of Eddie's smile, his dimples, and warm brown eyes. He also realized that Eddie hadn't been the first guy he thought was cute. . .fucking Steve Harrington, the guy who was dating the girl Jonathan had a crush on for forever. God, why did things have to be so complicated? Maybe that's why Jonathan took him up on his offer to be his first customer. Eddie was less complicated than Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler. He was still complicated but less so.

He had gotten two different addresses when he asked around about Eddie's place. . .the one on Philadelphia that had burned down and the one he now lived in. . .Forest Hills trailer park. It hadn't looked as daunting as he thought it would be. And when Eddie opened the door, he was wearing sweats that hung loosely on his hips and no shirt. Jonathan remembered that he had gotten so flustered that he had nearly forgotten why he came there. He could only utter one word.

"Drugs," Jonathan said, and Eddie laughed.

"Anything you're looking for in particular?" Eddie asked and then noted the way Jonathan looked at him. "Drugs, I mean. I'm up for negotiating on anything else."

Jonathan hadn't even known what to say to that, so Eddie had just let him in. Maybe Eddie knew how nervous he had been because he made himself comfortable and just started talking about music. It had been so easy to talk with Eddie. It had been a while before they had gotten to the drugs part of the conversation, but when they did, Jonathan felt comfortable in revealing he hadn't really done as much weed before. It had surprised Jonathan when Eddie revealed he had been quite new to this as well. . .that he had to learn how to do it with Reefer Rick and then some. . .

"Do you know what shotgunning is?" Eddie had asked.

"Isn't that what you do with beer?" Jonathan asked.

"Different kind of shotgunning," Eddie grinned.

"Oh," Jonathan blushed.

Eddie grinned and proceeded to show him what shotgunning was. Of course, Jonathan had to go and close the gap between them. Eddie pulled back with a laugh.

"Okay, that's kissing. . .but we can do that too," Eddie said.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

After that, they fell into an easy pattern. Kissing, talking, and shotgunning with Eddie's music playing in the background. He had complained about how unfair it was that he was the only one shirtless, and Jonathan had been quick to rectify that, and then they kissed again. Jonathan remembered the way he felt, lying on the bed with Eddie on top of him, with his hands trailing up his sides. After kissing for a while, they relaxed onto the bed. Jonathan had told him about how he always thought that it was just women for him, and Eddie told him the same thing. Then Jonathan talked about Steve Harrington. . .it was a stupid slip-up that Eddie caught him on.

"Ugh, I can't believe it. . .he's a jock!" Jonathan had complained.

"And it's a known fact that jocks are hot, annoyingly so. . .at least I think so. Cheerleaders, basketball players, unfortunately, they do it for me. It's even better if you picture them switching uniforms. . .the ladies in the basketball shorts and the men in the cheerleader skirts. . .delicious," Eddie said.

"You're a freak," Jonathan laughed.

"Takes one to know one Byers," Eddie had said and Jonathan had laughed in agreement.

"Well, Nancy isn't a jock," Jonathan said.

"Wasn't she on the cheerleading team for a short while?" Eddie asked.

"What? No, why would you say that?" Jonathan asked.

"Because she was," Eddie said. "Yeah, with Chrissy Cunningham."

"Chrissy Cunningham?" Jonathan asked.

"Yeah, yeah, Chrissy Cunningham," Eddie groaned, blushing.

"Why are our types preppy jocks?" Jonathan laughed.

"It's a mystery, man," Eddie cackled.

Jonathan had left feeling better than he had done in a while, thinking about what his mother said about feeling like he was alone in this world. He didn't feel like it then, and maybe she had been right. He had never been alone. His mother had known he had made a new friend but not what he was doing. Kissing had escalated to shedding more clothing, touching, and using their mouths in other ways other than kissing. For a while, Nancy and Steve had been pushed to the back of his mind. When they weren't together, they were just lying naked in bed talking about their families. . .talking about their deadbeat dads while Eddie traced patterns into his back. Days turned to weeks, and then weeks turned into months before it all came crashing down. Jonathan was spread out naked in Eddie's bed with Eddie's face between his legs. It just came out. . .no, not that.

"I love you."

Eddie froze before pulling off of Jonathan and moving back. He stared at him for a moment before he began freaking out. He wiped Jonathan off before pulling on his own clothes. Jonathan sat up and opened his mouth to say something but Eddie beat him to the punch.

"I don't think we should do this anymore. . .or see each other," Eddie had said.

"I can take it back," Jonathan said quickly.

That hadn't been the answer either. Eddie looked in his eyes.

"Did you mean it?" He asked.

"Yes," Jonathan said, but he wasn't sure.

"I'm not where you are, man. I don't think I ever will be. . .I mean, who knows, but you deserve better than that. You deserve someone who's ready to be your boyfriend. . .or your girlfriend," Eddie said. "I'm not."

Jonathan could probably read him better than anyone or, at least, he thought. He wasn't going to push him, but he could see how scared he was. His father's temper swirled around inside him, and for a moment, he recalled that time in the woods when he yelled at Nancy. Maybe he did love Eddie, or maybe in the back of his mind, he was still thinking of Steve and Nancy. He didn't want to hurt Eddie either. Jonathan cupped Eddie's face and kissed him, pouring everything they had into the kiss. Neither one of knew that it would be the last time they'd kiss. Jonathan broke it and pulled on his clothes before walking out the front door of his trailer. When he walked into his house, he saw his mother talking to Hopper. She was busy, so he had managed to escape to his room, shut the door, and turn on his music. The summer of 84 had ended, and so had his relationship with Eddie.

Now, a couple of years later. . .with the end of the world looming over their heads, Jonathan was sitting on the steps of Hopper's cabin and talking to Nancy. She had stayed silent the entire time he had talked about Eddie. Jonathan sniffed as Nancy rubbed his back.

"I'm sorry that I didn't tell you," Jonathan said. "Or about the acceptance letter."

"That part doesn't matter right now. I can be pissed at you later," Nancy said softly. "I'm sorry about Eddie."

"It was the last time we spoke. I should have tried to speak to him before I left. Should have tried being friends with him, at least," Jonathan said, wiping his eyes.

"We all had a lot going on, Jonathan," Nancy said softly. "You couldn't have known it would have ended up like this."

"Living in this cursed town? I should have," Jonathan mumbled.

"Does your mother know?" She asked softly.

"I never told her," Jonathan replied.

"Maybe you should," Nancy said. "Everything else we can talk about later. Right now, you need to grieve and let the others plan."

Jonathan buried his head into Nancy's shoulder and sobbed. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly.

"I love you."

"I love you too," she said softly.

They heard the door open behind them, and someone stepped out. Neither one of them turned around. Joyce stepped into view, sitting on the other side of her son.

"Jonathan, what's wrong?" Joyce asked.

Jonathan pulled away from Nancy and turned his mother.

"I knew Eddie," he said.

Then, in messy, heartbreaking sobs, Jonathan told his mother what he told Nancy.

"Oh, sweetheart," Joyce said softly and pulled him into her arms.

"I'm never going to talk to him again," Jonathan cried. "I should have tried harder."

"Oh, Jonathan, Nancy's right, life got in the way, and you didn't know what would have happened," Joyce said.

"I'm fucking tired. Not just because of all the bullshit with the Upside Down but the people in this town. . .just people who hated him for no fucking reason and in the end, they were just. . .they hunted him, Mom and I had no idea. . .he must have been so scared. . .they were looking for any reason to hate him, to hate people like us," Jonathan said. "The crazy thing is. . .even after all the shit they gave him, he loved this town, and I think it always broke him that they didn't love him back. He wasn't perfect but he was so good. . ."

"Oh, honey," Joyce said. "I have no clue what to say right now, other than to let you know that I'm here. We're going to save this town, and then we're going to let them know that they were so wrong about Eddie. I'll make sure they know."

"I love you, mom."

"Oh, I love you so, so much," Joyce said.

They heard the door open behind them, and they all stood up. Will, Hopper, and El came spilling out. Will had tears in his eyes.

"You were kind of sobbing pretty loudly," he said, and before Jonathan could feel embarrassed, Will threw himself in his arms.

Then it was El hugging him as well. Jonathan hated how they both understood what it was like to be treated this way. . .like freaks. . .like monsters. They didn't deserve to be treated like they didn't have a place here or anywhere else. His brother and sister deserved a place in this world more anything. He wanted them to know that they weren't alone, and hopefully, they felt it, just as much as he did. Hugging them tight, Jonathan didn't feel so alone, soothing the ache in his heart that would never fully go away, but he did feel better. When he pulled out of the hug, he found himself being pulled into Hopper's arms. He was the first man in his life who had come through for Jonathan, more than his own father ever did. He came through for Will more Lonnie ever could. And when Hopper uttered the words that Jonathan had secretly hoped to hear from dad, he broke down again.

"I'm proud of you, kid. . .and I am so sorry."

It helped, though, afterward, having something to focus on. He used his fury and his hate to channel it into helping people, into helping the town keep Creel out of their heads. Suddenly, though, he was an anonymous voice on the radio. Telling the town about Eddie, about what kind of man he was, and how he took kids under his wing. . .how he gave them a place to belong. He talked about how D&D was just a board game, how in many ways it was a lot like basketball. He told them how Eddie became a target to protect his friends. He told them about all the ways that Eddie fucked up because of his dad, because the people in this town hated him based on the fact that he looked like his father. Jonathan went on to talk about how just because people had different interests doesn't mean that they had to be enemies. All Eddie wanted to do was play his music and D&D with his friends, but he also wanted a safe place for them. He wasn't interested in hurting anyone. . .he couldn't even kill the spiders he was desperately afraid of. Then he talked about Wayne, Eddie's true father. . .the things Eddie had told to him confidence. He told them what Wayne had said, how he had loved Eddie more than his own father ever could.

"To hell with what they think! You can't walk through life shaking yourself to pieces over how other people think you should be. They'll always try to fit you in some box - angel, devil. Hero, villain. Fuckup, saint. But we ain't meant for boxes, not 'til we're dead in the ground. You're the only person who knows who you are. So stop trying to fit yourself into one of their boxes and just let yourself be you."

Then Jonathan told them about Eddie's mom, how she died when Eddie was six, and his love of music came from her. Jonathan played them the song that Elizabeth used to sing to him at bedtime: Hey, Jude. As he let that play, Nancy came in with tears in her eyes. He knew when she managed to choke out a name.

"Chrissy," Nancy had said and couldn't find herself to say much else. "I'm sorry."

Jonathan had pulled Nancy into his arms and held her tightly, letting the music wash over them. She had lost Barb, then Fred, and she had also lost Chrissy in the same way that he had lost Eddie.

"We can't lose, Steve," Jonathan said. "We have to talk to him."

"I know," Nancy whispered and paused. "It was worth it. . .the time we spent with them."

Before they knew, months had passed, and it had become a year. It was fucking crazy how they were making everyone still go to school after everything. Dustin had bitched about it to Steve on the car ride back to the radio station which had become their base of operation. They had wanted to ride with them alone, but Dustin had beat them to the front seat. Robin was working with Joyce at the hospital, looking out for Max and hoping that the soldiers wouldn't do anything nefarious with her. They all switched shifts looking out for Max, Nancy even going so far as to volunteer as a candy striper.

"You know, Dustin, we had hoped to use this opportunity to talk to Steve about something," Nancy said, leaning forward.

"If you're talking about the whole RV thing with the nuggets and the whole you've always been there thing, we kind of already know about it," Dustin said.

"Seriously, how?!" Steve asked with a groan. "Wait. . .I already know. . .Robin."

"It kind of sort of just tumbled out of her," Dustin said.

"Yes, I am familiar with my platonic soulmate, Dustin," Steve said with a sigh.

"Is that what you call each other?" Nancy asked, and Steve hummed. "That's cute."

"Hey, by the way, Jonathan, how'd you know all that stuff about Eddie?" Dustin asked.

"I was friends with him a while back," Jonathan said. "I mean, Argyle wasn't the first one I used to smoke weed with."

"What happened?" Dustin asked.

"We, uh, just kind of went our separate ways," Jonathan said and paused, looking at Nancy. "I think I'm just going to say it."

"Are you sure?" Nancy asked.

"Look, Steve is probably going to tell Robin, and apparently, she's got a big mouth," Jonathan said.

"No, it's more like she's got a loose mouth. . .ugh, that didn't sound right," Steve frowned.

"Well, I don't think she's going to spill the beans about this," Nancy said.

"How do you know?" Jonathan asked.

"I just have a feeling," Nancy smiled.

"You have a feeling about what?" Steve asked, looking in the rear view mirror, and she smiled at him. "Nancy?"

"I think you know," she replied.

"Okay. . .well, Eddie and I were more than just friends," Jonathan said.

"You were best friends?" Dustin asked.

"Okay, you're adorable," Nancy said and Steve snorted.

"Eddie and I had a casual relationship," Jonathan said.

"Oh. . .oh, shit," Dustin said. "I mean, that sucks. . .I mean, not that you're gay. . .but that you lost Eddie."

"I'm not gay, man. I always sort of knew, but I recently learned there was a name for it when I went to California," Jonathan said. "I'm bisexual. I like men and women."

"Woah, cool, you can do that?" Dustin asked.

"Yeah," he laughed.

"Hey, Jonathan, thanks for telling us," Dustin said softly.

He reached between the seats and hugged Jonathan. He buried his face into his shoulder, sniffling.

"I'm sorry you lost Eddie," Jonathan said.

Dustin sat back, wiping his face. It was silent for a moment. Jonathan shared a look with Nancy, unsure of what to say next. Steve was quiet, looking contemplative. He hadn't said anything about what Jonathan had revealed. He opened his mouth, feeling a lot like in this moment what happened with Eddie. Maybe they weren't on the same page, like Nancy and Jonathan had been hoping he was. Maybe he only wanted Nancy. Although he hadn't exactly told Steve about his feelings for him, he felt like he had told him enough. . .maybe too much.

"So, there were reports of a rather large winged creature flying around. . .bigger than the bats," Dustin said. "Mike believes it's a baby dragon."

"I didn't know you could do that," Steve blurted out.

"Believe in baby dragons? You can believe in anything that you want to, Steve," Dustin scoffed. "Of all of Mike's hangups, that's the one you have a problem with?"

"What? No! Robin and I believe it's a baby dragon, too," Steve said. "That's not what I'm talking about. I mean, liking men and women. . .I just - I sort of always had this inner panic like I had to choose one or the other. . .it just felt like I was pretending sometimes, and I never thought about it. I never went - Hey, I could do both! I could like both! And it was easier to pretend when I was wearing my facade of King Steve back then - Holy shit, I think I'm like the same!"

"Steve, I think you're hyperventilating," Nancy said with wide eyes. "Pull over."

Steve pulled over on the side of the road and climbed out of the car to get some air. Jonathan and Nancy followed him, leaving Dustin in the car. Jonathan watched him for a moment before hugging him tightly. Steve laughed before wrapping his arms around him.

"I'm really freaking out. I mean, I am, but I feel more excited than anything else," Steve said, and then he whispered in Jonathan's ear. "I think you're hot, I always have, and I think I've always liked you - I always liked seeing you and Nancy. . .when I realized you slept together, a part of me wished I had been there."

Jonathan pulled back and smiled at him.

"When I got with Eddie, I was trying my hardest to get over Nancy and you. I thought I was a freak for liking you both," he said. "Steve?"

"Yeah?" He asked, his voice thick with emotions.

"Is there any room for me in your RV?" Jonathan asked.

"Yeah, definitely, definitely," Steve said with a goofy grin on his face.

He cupped Jonathan's face and crashed his lips to his. They wrapped his arms around Jonathan, pulling him close and fully enjoying the feeling of his lips against Jonathan's. The other man eagerly accepted the kiss, his nails digging into his Steve’s back. After so long, this was finally happening. Jonathan couldn't believe it. Finally, they pulled apart and let Nancy squeeze in between them so she could kiss Steve too. Jonathan snorted when Steve giggled against her mouth.

"What was that?" Nancy asked.

"Sorry, I'm just so happy," Steve said.

"Can we get a dog first before decided on any kids yet?" Nancy asked.

"Of course, the RV would be yours too. Add anything you want to, and I love dogs! The six kids are definitely negotiable. I would never have us get Jonathan pregnant six times. His hips are nice, but they're not very childbearing," Steve said, and Nancy giggled.

"Fuck you, they're very childbearing," Jonathan pouted.

"So, is the dog before or after we get illegally married?" Steve teased.

"After," Nancy said with a grin.

"Did you just get engaged?!" Dustin asked as he popped his head out the window. "Steve went from having a sexual identity crisis to kissing you guys to getting married! I think I just got whiplash!"

"Yeah. I think we did," Jonathan said, laughing before turning back to Steve. "You said earlier that I was lucky to have Nancy now, I'm lucky to have you both. There isn't anyone else. It's always been you and Nancy."

"Aww. . .but okay, that is not how you're proposing to my big brother," Dustin said. "He deserves flowers and candles. . .the works. He should be wooed! Try again! I hope you know his favorite song!"

"You guys never warned me that little brothers would be this much work," Steve said.

"Sorry," Jonathan and Nancy laughed.

Jonathan could tell on the drive back to the radio station that Steve was quite eager to share the news with Robin. It was infectious. Jonathan was eager for Steve to tell Robin as well. It didn't happen immediately, though, not for a couple of days. Everyone was so busy trying to look over Max, trying to figure out Vecna's next attack, as well as trying to avoid the soldiers and dodge the jocks that were out for blood. They were also on the lookout for the dark flying creature that soared overhead sometime and any other creature that came from the Upside Down. Robin, Joyce, Will, Lucas, and Mike had gotten stuck at the hospital. Meanwhile, Dustin had disappeared.

"I can't believe he took off by himself," Steve said as he paced in the radio station. "Okay. What if something happens to him? When is Hopper and El getting back?"

"Steve, he's going to be fine. Dustin is smart. When he needs us, he'll come find us," Nancy said.

"I know, I know. I just hate this," Steve said.

"I know, us too," Nancy said softly.

Jonathan and Nancy wrapped their arms around him from behind, pressing their cheeks to each shoulder. Steve sighed, relaxing a bit. He turned around and pulled Nancy in for a quick kiss before doing the same with Jonathan. He pulled away when they heard the sound of the door opening, and Steve recognized Dustin's familiar footsteps. Dustin appeared. His Hellfire shirt was torn. His face was bloody and bruised. Nancy gasped.

"I just wanted to visit Eddie. When I got there, they were painting "burn in hell" on his gravestone. I just wanted them to stop. There were too many of them, but I got away. I know there's nothing buried there, but I just wanted to talk to him," Dustin said softly. "I just wanted to talk to him again."

Dustin burst into tears. Steve went to him immediately. He wrapped his arms around him, holding onto him for dear life while Dustin did the same. Steve kissed the top of his head, and Jonathan could tell that he was struggling to keep his own tears in. He wasn't so lucky. A tear dripped onto Dustin's hat. Jonathan and Nancy let them have their moment before joining in the hug. The door opened again, but they didn't stop hugging Dustin even when Hopper and El came in.

"What the hell happened?" Hopper asked when Dustin pulled away.

Dustin looked sheepish for a moment and then quickly wiped his face. He paused, unsure of what to say. El moved in front of Dustin and looked him square in the eyes, touching his face.

"What happened?" She asked sternly but gently.

"I just wanted to go to Eddie's grave, but they disfigured it. . .they messed it up. I tried to stop them, but there were too many of them," Dustin said. "I'm stupid."

"You are not stupid," El said. "They are. Mouth breathers."

"Yeah," he said, cracking a grin.

"Let's get you cleaned up," El said and grabbed his hand.

"As long as you tell me what's been bothering you lately," Dustin said.

"It is not important," she replied.

"Bullshit," he said.

They all watched as El grabbed a first aid kit and went to work cleaning up his face as best she could.

"Mike and I broke up the other day," El said.

"Hell of a time to dump you," Dustin said.

"He did not dump me. It was mutual," El sighed.

"What? Why?" He asked.

"We love each other, but it is not enough, especially since we both have feelings for other people," El said.

"Well, damn, I'm not surprised about Mike, and I can already guess who he has feelings for," Dustin frowned. "You're a complete mystery."

"You will figure it out," El said.

"Not even a hint, uh?" He asked.

El laughed and kissed his nose. Jonathan shared an amused look with Steve and Nancy.

"I think I figured it out," Jonathan said.

"Me too," Nancy and Steve said, grinning.

"Seriously, is no one going to tell me?" Dustin asked.

El cupped his face and squished his cheeks together before placing a quick kiss on his lips.

"Do you still need a hint?" She asked.

"No," he laughed. "I think my day is looking up, though."

Jonathan knew what was coming next the minute that Dustin opened his mouth. The growl. Dustin realized that Hopper was still in the room and thought better of it.

"Just because you're a step up from Mike doesn't mean that I don't have my eye on you, kid," Hopper said.

"Hey, that's my brother who you're insulting," Nancy said.

"Please, you would have shot me if you didn't somewhat agree," Hopper said. "Besides, I meant a step up in partners for El."

"That's a little better, I guess," Nancy said in amusement.

"By the way, your mom is on the way from the hospital with the others," Hopper told Jonathan. "We're going to talk about everything when they get here."

"Then I guess it's our turn to look out for Max," Nancy said. "I already put on my uniform."

"Like I said, we will talk when they get here," he replied.

It wasn't long after that they came in. Lucas looked sour. . .well, they all did. Mike had a black eye, and Robin had a bleeding nose. She wiped it away with her sleeve. Nancy rolled her eyes and went to help her with it. Robin pushed past Nancy and into Steve’s arms.

"We are never getting separated ever again," Robin said. "I had no idea if you were alive or dead! Did I miss anything?"

Nancy, Steve, and Jonathan shared amused looks.

"A little, but I'll tell you later," Steve said.

"Are you going to let me take care of your nose now?" Nancy asked.

"Yes, Nurse Nancy," Robin said. "Sorry."

They had all noticed that it was Will who was taking care of Mike's black eye. Apparently, they had gotten ambushed at the hospital by a pack of rabid jocks who were hellbent on hunting down any member of Hellfire. It was Robin's quick thinking who got the kids out of the way. . .mostly. Mike had gotten hit, and then Robin had taken a punch to the nose, getting in front of Mike. It was Joyce who almost scared them off, but then the large winged creature swooped down in front of them, chasing off the offenders. Once the jocks were gone, the creature took off.

"I don't know what it was, but it was definitely more humanoid, so I think we can rule out baby dragon," Mike cursed. "Damn."

"I'm sorry, did you want a fire-breathing dragon on our hands?" Robin asked.

"Well, whatever this thing is, it could be dangerous," Hopper said.

"I mean, technically, everything in the world is dangerous, but I don't think this creature is bad. It didn't feel bad to me, and it chased off the jocks," Will said.

"Well, maybe it's trying to lure us into a trap," Lucas said.

"Maybe . . .," Will said.

"I don't think that's what it is," Dustin frowned. "I think I know what it is."

Everyone went silent and looked at Dustin as he stared at the floor.

"Are you going to share with the class?" Steve asked.

"You're going to think I'm crazy," he said.

"If anyone does, I will use my powers on them," El said seriously.

"Okay, Robin, you got a good look at it. Does it look a little bit like a demobat?" Dustin asked.

"Yeah, actually, it did with the wings, gray skin, and the three tails," Robin said. "It had a bunch of dark mangled hair on top of its head."

"Well, that just proves it," Dustin said, slapping his knees. "I think the creature is. . .Eddie."

"Oh, honey, I know you miss him - " Joyce started to say.

"Really? This comes from the lady who had a theory based only on magnets and ended up being right?" Dustin asked. "You're going to doubt me?"

"Okay, yeah, you have a point. We have worked with a lot less," Joyce said. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, it's okay, I would have doubted me too," Dustin said. "Hell, I'm doubting myself a little. . .but I have to believe that this is Eddie. I have to."

"Well, if it is Eddie, why hasn't he come to us?" Hopper asked.

"Well, wouldn't you be a little terrified if you turned into a monster?" Lucas asked.

"That's true," Hopper said.

"We have to make him come to us. We have to get on the airwaves, keeping talking about Eddie and then we. . .use me as bait. . .imply that I'm in danger or some shit. He needs to know that we're not going to hurt him," Dustin said.

"How do we know that he's not a minion of Vecna?" Mike asked.

"That's the risk. . .we don't, but Eddie gave up his life for all of us. . .shouldn't we try and put in the same effort?" He asked.

Jonathan admired Dustin's courage and steadfast loyalty. Eddie really was lucky to have a friend like him. He really hoped that Dustin was right and that Eddie really was alive. He definitely didn't want to see him cry again. It was almost as bad as seeing Will cry. Jonathan needed to talk to Eddie again to be friends with him because while he was no longer romantically interested in him, he did want him to be a part of his life. As the three of them prepared for Dustin's plan, Robin walked over to Steve, Nancy, and Jonathan.

"Talk to me while we work, Popeye," Robin said.

"Well, I'm engaged to be engaged to Jonathan and Nancy," Steve said.

"What?" Robin asked.

"Yeah, apparently their proposal wasn't good enough for Dustin," Steve said.

"Because it wasn't," Dustin said as he walked by.

"I'm not sure if I would call it a proposal," Jonathan said sheepishly.

"Yeah, we just decided to share an entire future together, is all," Nancy said.

"That's not what I was what-ing you about," Robin said with wide eyes.

"Apparently, not as straight as we thought I was," Steve smirked. "Bisexual."

"Me too," Jonathan replied.

"Not sure what I am, but I'm definitely not straight," Nancy said and Robin raised an eyebrow at her. "Chrissy."

"Jesus. . .I'm sorry," Robin said softly, and then her eyes widened as she pointed at Jonathan. "Eddie!"

"Yeah," Jonathan said sheepishly. "Was me talking about Eddie on the radio that obvious?"

"No, not until you said something about you. . .it just makes sense," Robin said and turned to Nancy. "I am so sorry about Chrissy. How did you know her?"

"I was briefly on the cheerleading squad," Nancy said.

"Nancy Wheeler in a cheerleader uniform. . .Holy shit!" Robin exclaimed.

"Put your tongue back into your head, Buckley," Steve said in amusement.

"Look, I may prefer blondes and redheads, but I am not dumb to the attractiveness of Nancy Wheeler," Robin said and then pointed to herself. "Lesbian."

Nancy laughed and hipchecked Robin, who returned the favor with a giggle.

"Even better. . .Steve in a cheerleader uniform," Nancy said.

"Now, there's an idea," Jonathan said.

"Ugh, gag me with a spoon," Robin groaned. "I can't believe you put that image in my head."

"You two should know that I am very willing to do anything you two ask me to," Steve grinned and winked.

"Stawwwpp!" Robin groaned as Jonathan and Nancy laughed.

Before they left, Joyce approached them, looking amused at the sight of them laughing.

"Something I should know?" She asked.

Steve grinned at Jonathan, raising a questioning eyebrow. He blushed and nodded at Steve.

"Well, I'm illegally marrying your son and his girlfriend," Steve said, and Dustin cleared his throat. "That is if Dustin will let them propose to me because apparently they didn't do it right. I have apparently required an overprotective little brother."

"Maybe we should just let him plan the wedding," Jonathan laughed.

Dustin appeared at his side so suddenly that Jonathan jumped.

"Yes. Absolutely."

"Low-key! Within reason!"

"Okay! Let's go!"

They drove to the woods near the junkyard. Nancy had changed out of her candy striper uniform and into a pair of jeans along with a dark pink jacket. Jonathan took a minute to admire his partners as they stood with Dustin. God, they both looked so good. Steve with his gray white sweater and his brown jacket. Steve’s hair has pretty much stayed the same over the last few months. Nancy's hair had thickened and got longer, now spilling over her shoulders with her bangs longer as well. They looked good under the dim light of the full moon and under the glare of their flashlights. Steve turned and dug into his trunk. Jonathan took the time to admire Steve’s backside as he pulled out a familiar looking bat.

"Our baby," Nancy grinned.

"What?" Jonathan asked.

"It was my bat first. Jonathan hammered in the nails, and then you both wielded it. I should point out that I haven't gotten to hold her, and I think it's Mama's turn," Nancy said as she took the bat.

"It's an inanimate object, Nance," Dustin said teasingly.

"A deadly inanimate object," she replied.

"Point taken," Dustin said. "Let's get to work."

"Are you sure about it being you, Steve?" Nancy asked.

"Yeah, I'll be careful," Steve said. "Besides, you know me. . .I never get hurt."

They watched Steve slip on the mask, reassured even less by what he said. Nancy took Jonathan's hand and watched as Steve started chasing Dustin. He screamed as Steve ran after him. Nancy and Jonathan followed from a distance.

"I'm starting to think this might be the stupidest plan ever," Jonathan said.

"Well, it's the only plan," Nancy said.

Suddenly, a large creature swooped down from the sky and knocked Steve to the ground, pinning him. Steve managed to act quickly and rolled the creature onto its back, but it was quick, too. Its claws barely scraped against Steve’s side, causing him to groan loudly and roll away, but not before the creature had him pinned again. This time, Steve was on his front, his hands underneath him so he couldn't fight back. The creature raised its claw, ready to strike when Dustin screamed.

"STEEEVE!"

"STEEEVE!" Jonathan yelled out.

"STOP! STOP!" Dustin yelled out.

It wasn't stopping. Scowling, Nancy raised the bat and swung, hitting the creature in the side. It screeched and fell off of Steve.

"SON OF A BITCH!" The creature yelled.

They watched as the wings grew small and then the tail before sliding into its gray skin. Eddie Munson stood up, naked as the day he was born. He clutched his side and glared at Wheeler. Steve rolled over and took off his mask, standing up to clutch his own side.

"Welcome back from the dead, man," Steve said.

"What the hell were you doing attacking our shrimp?" Eddie asked.

"Why do you think?" Steve asked. "To get you here."

He pulled his backpack off his back and pulled out some clothes. Steve tossed Eddie a pair of sweat pants and yellow sweater. Eddie grimaced and shrugged them on.

"Eddie?" Dustin said in a soft voice.

Eddie whirled around and stared at Dustin. He stared back, his bottom lip trembling. Dustin burst into tears and threw himself into Eddie's arms. Eddie held onto him tightly, letting him cry into his chest. It was touching until Dustin squeezed him a little too tightly, and Eddie winced. He pulled back.

"Damn it, Wheeler got me good," Eddie winced.

"Well, you were asking for it. You went after our boyfriend," Nancy said and proudly held up the bat. "Naily did good."

"Naily?" Steve and Jonathan asked.

"What? It's a great name for our baby," Nancy said.

"The infamous nail bat," Eddie grinned. "And don't you worry about me, I'll heal."

"I don't think I will," Steve said.

"Shit, big boy, sorry about that," Eddie winced. "Lift up your sweater."

"What?" Steve asked.

Eddie sighed, rolled his eyes, and yanked up his sweater. Eddie spat into his hand and slapped the saliva onto Steve’s skin, smearing it around. Steve hollered and hissed. He tried to swat Eddie's hand away, but Eddie held firm. He pulled away with a grin and then waved at the others to gather around. They leaned forward and watched as Steve’s skin came back together.

"Holy shit!"

"Cool, isn't it?" Eddie asked. "I realized I could do that when I took my first drink of a deer. I felt so guilty at first, but then I realized I didn't have to kill when I saw the skin go back together."

"You're a vampire," Dustin said with wide eyes.

"Yeah," Eddie said, and licked Steve's blood off of his hands, his eyes flashing red.

Suddenly, they heard a rustle through the trees. Nancy, Jonathan, Eddie, and Steve quickly surrounded Dustin. El and Hopper burst through the trees.

"Holy shit. Jun - ," Hopper stared to say.

"I swear if you call me Junior, I'll bite you," Eddie grinned and flashed his fangs.

"Fair enough. It's good to see you," Hopper said. "Wish it were under better circumstances."

"When we're both not suddenly back from the dead?" Eddie asked, and he laughed.

"Are you a minion of Vecna?" El asked.

"The asshole tried to turn me into his puppet, but I didn't like forced conformity before, I'm certainly not going to like it when I'm dead. He's pretty pissed at me, so I probably shouldn't be around you guys. . . " Eddie said.

"He probably already knows. El has been keeping track of him or trying to. Besides, we're already at risk. We have a better chance with you fighting by our side," Jonathan said. "We're glad you're back."

"All of us?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah."

Eddie laughed and threw an arm around Jonathan's shoulder, hugging him tightly.

"Anything else happen while I was dead?" Eddie asked, looking at Nancy and Steve knowingly.

Ahead of them, El and Dustin walked hand in hand. Dustin bent down and showed her a rock that looked like a heart. El grinned and kissed him when he gave it to her.

"My sister, El, is dating Dustin now," Jonathan said in amusement.

"Well, they're fucking adorable," Eddie said.

Eddie's reunion with Mike and Lucas had been a joyous one. It was also full of tears and apologies. Eddie also took time to spit on Mike's black eye and Dustin's face. They both complained loudly that he could have just spat into a rag. After that, it was more discussion and interrogating Eddie on what Vecna wanted from him, on what he wanted from all of them. It wasn't long after that they figured out that Eddie and Vecna were connected. . .that if Vecna could get into his head, then Eddie could do the same. El encouraged him and walked him through it, using her own powers to help him.

"Okay. . .I feel like that was too easy," Eddie said softly. "Oh. . .someone else is opening the door for me. . .oh, they feel familiar. . . Chrissy! It's Chrissy. . .but how?"

"Okay, this feels like a trap," Jonathan said.

"No, I swear. . .It doesn't feel like Vecna. It feels like Chrissy. . .she's calling to me," Eddie said.

"Or maybe you want it to be her. I mean, Vecna does use our trauma against us, right?" Jonathan asked.

"Why do we keep doubting each other? If Eddie says it's Chrissy, then it's Chrissy," Dustin said, and Jonathan threw up his hands.

"But we also need to be cautious," Jonathan said.

"Okay, I can't concentrate with all this bitching," Eddie said. "Okay. . .it's not just Chrissy. . .it's all of them. . .all of his victims. . .JESUS H CHRIST! They're alive!"

"WHAT?!"

"Yeah, uh, apparently, he continues to use their trauma to like boost his power or some shit but they have to be psychic themselves even if they don't know it. He found that it's better to keep them alive. The sick fuck prefers them younger. . .he's got his next target," Eddie said. "Hold on. . ."

Everyone was on the edge of their seats when the door burst open, startling everyone. Argyle came in, carrying a box of supplies.

"I come carrying gifts," Argyle said and stared at Eddie, his eyes still closed. "Hey, isn't he supposed to be dead?"

"Argyle!" Jonathan exclaimed. "You scared the shit out of us, man."

"Sorry," Argyle said, sheepishly. "I got us the supplies from the War Zone. Getting in and out of town was easy peasy, like I said. What did I miss?"

"Catch him up, Jonathan," Dustin said.

"I'm sorry, who put you in charge?" Jonathan scowled but turned to Argyle. "The bat bites turned Eddie into a vampire who can get into Henry's head, and we're trying to see what his next plan of attack is."

"Got it," Argyle said and then leaned in closer to whisper to Jonathan. "I sense that the vibes between you, Nancy, and Steve have changed."

"Uh, we can talk about that later," he replied.

"Shit! Shit! SHIT!" Eddie cursed, his eyes flying open. "Holly. . ."

"Not our Holly!" Nancy exclaimed. "Please, tell me it's not our sister."

"I can't. . ."

"FUCK!"

They all took off immediately towards the Wheelers' house. Nancy and Mike had barged into the house, startling their parents.

"Where's Holly?!" They asked.

"In her room," Karen replied.

She hadn't been in her room, though. Everyone began scrambling around the house, trying to find Holly. It was Steve who found her in the backyard, in a trance, walking toward the woods. He had been the first to reach her and managed to stop her before she could go further. Karen and Ted had followed suit. That's when they heard it. . .the growling sound. A clawed hand back handed Steve, throwing him away from Holly. The demogorgon picked up Holly. Steve got up and jumped on its back. It took off. Everyone screamed but none more so than Ted and Karen, who took off after them. Eddie had ripped off his sweater and deployed his wings, flying above them. Jonathan's heart pounded in his chest as he ran beside an equally frantic Nancy. They couldn't shoot at the creature in fear of someone getting hit by a stray bullet. As fast as they all were going, the demogorgon with Steve still hanging on, was much faster than them. It was a blur through the darkening trees, but they could make out Steve, pulling out a knife and stabbing at the creature to let Holly go. Finally, the demogorgon flung Steve off of him. Steve came crashing to the ground, but he managed to slash the demogorgon in the leg on the way down. Finally, it dropped Holly, and Karen moved forward with a branch to shield her daughter.

"RUN TO DADDY, HOLLY!" Karen screamed as she hit the demogorgon that dove for Holly.

Holly screamed and ran into Ted's arms. The demogorgon swiped at the empty spot and growled at Karen before hitting her with his claws. She screamed as she fell, its claws digging into her, and then she went silent. The demogorgon dove for Ted and Holly. Ted acted quickly and covered Holly with his body, the monster's claws scratching his back. Nancy screamed as she swung the bat at it. El came charging in, her hand flying out and throwing the demogorgon away from Ted. It charged again, and El threw it harder while Eddie attacked from above. Argyle and Hopper came in with homemade flamethrowers, lighting up the demogorgon. Robin, Joyce, and Dustin threw molotovs at it. Lucas, Mike, and Jonathan acted quickly. They pulled Ted and Holly to safety. Jonathan gently picked up Karen, who was thankfully still breathing, but she wasn't conscious. The demogorgon screamed and took off. Everyone moved quickly to get the Wheelers to the hospital, Jonathan carefully putting Karen in the back of Argyle's van while Ted climbed in, clutching Holly. Nancy climbed in the passenger's seat with Mike.

"Take care of Steve," Nancy said to Jonathan, and they drove off.

Jonathan turned to the group to talk to Steve, but he wasn't standing with them. Robin was looking around wildly as well.

"Where the hell is Steve?" Jonathan asked.

That's when everyone realized that he wasn't standing with them. Jonathan pushed past them and back into the woods. Steve wasn't there either. . .only his bloody knife. There were drag marks in the dirt. Jonathan took off, following the trail.

"STEVE!" Jonathan yelled.

"STEVE!" Dustin and Robin screamed.

They couldn't find him. At one point, the trail just ended. They couldn't find a single sign of Eddie either. Dustin collapsed into Robin's arms, sobbing. She held him tightly.

"We're going to find them. We ARE going to find them," Robin said.

After searching for a while, they had no choice but to return to the hospital. Jonathan had paused before getting into the car. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't fucking breathe. His chest was tight. Why he couldn't he breathe? He clutched his chest as the image of Steve’s smiling face appeared in his head. . .an image of them all packed away into the RV with a dog in their laps appeared as well. Suddenly, that image shattered. Jonathan let out a strangled yell.

"Jonathan, honey, breathe. I'm here," Joyce muttered softly. "We're going to find him. Okay, we're going to find both of them."

"I have to - I have to tell Nancy," Jonathan gasped.

As much as he appreciated his mother's hug, he wished it was Steve’s arms around him now. He managed to calm down somewhat, and once that happened, they all drove to the hospital. He found Nancy, Mike, and Argyle in the waiting room. Nancy and Mike were pleading with their father.

"Please, Daddy. You have to let the doctors look at you. Mom is fighting for her life in there. You have to do the same thing. We can't lose you either," Nancy said.

"We'll look after Holly, Dad. I know I said a lot of things to you, but I was being stupid. I know you care. I know we don't show it a lot, but we love you," Mike said softly. "We can't lose either if you."

Ted sniffled and loosened his grip on Holly. Nancy immediately picked her up. He shakily stood up and hugged his kids.

"You're the best thing that your mother and I ever did," Ted said. "I should have said it more. . .I'm proud of you."

Hopper stepped in to help Ted hobble out of the room.

"Don't go, Daddy!" Holly sobbed.

"Dad's going to be alright, Holly. He just has a few scratches that need looking after," Nancy said.

Holly let out another loud sob and buried her face into Nancy's shoulder. Jonathan went over to her and hugged her tightly. Well, hugging them both. He pulled back and stroked Holly's head.

"How's your mother?" Jonathan asked softly.

"We don't know anything yet. Only that she's still in surgery," Nancy said with a sniffle. "Jonathan. . .where's Steve?"

There was silence as everyone exchanged looks. Jonathan looked nervously at Nancy.

"We thought he had been with us but. . .when he turned back, he was gone. We couldn't find him anywhere. We don't know where he is," Jonathan said. "We don't know where Eddie is either."

Nancy started to breathe heavily as her eyes went wide, and she was trying to remain calm. . .to keep it together. It was all too much. Nancy set Holly onto one of the plastic chairs and burst into tears. She pressed the heels of hands into her eyes as it grew harder for her to breathe. Meanwhile, El turned the television to an empty channel and tied a bandana around her eyes.

"I need silence," El said gently.

Nancy buried her head in Jonathan's shoulder and let him hold her as she tried to quiet her sobs. When she couldn't, she looked at Mike, who nodded and took Holly into his lap. Nancy dragged Jonathan out of the room and hugged him tightly.

"We have to find him. We have to," Nancy said.

As Jonathan held Nancy, he thought about Steve and all the times he interacted. He always thought Steve was an asshole but that had been at a time when Jonathan had used his camera to hide behind, to distance himself, and at a time when he couldn't admit that he thought that Steve was beautiful. He just hated Tommy and Carol. . .how they talked about people, but had Jonathan been much different. . .hating everyone and judging them when the truth was he was scared of getting hurt himself? It's funny how people distance themselves from people in many different ways because he knew that Steve did it with Tommy and Carol. It was easier than being alone or being himself, but Steve’s love for Nancy had brought that out in him. It had brought out the real Steve. . .the one that walked right into Jonathan's house to fight the demogorgon with them. . .unknowingly forging a bond with Nancy and Jonathan that he hoped would never break. Sometimes, you just get lonely for so long that it's just too familiar to let go, something Jonathan had known all too well.

"Please, don't go, Mommy!"

The scream that Holly had made for her father. . .sounded much like that of a little boy that Jonathan had seen a long time ago. Jonathan had been quite young himself. He was wandering in the woods with his Polaroid camera. . .his first camera when he heard the sounds of a boy his age crying. He peaked through the trees, seeing a fancy house a head. A handsome boy was crying in the driveway, watching his parents pack their things in their car.

"Oh, hush, Steven, we're going to be back soon," his mother said.

"I'm too young to stay by myself, Mama!" The boy had cried.

"No, you're not, and you're too old to be crying like a baby," his mother said. "Now, be a big boy, and if you're good, we'll bring you back something nice."

Steven sniffled and wiped his eyes, tucking in his lower lip. Finally, he quieted down and watched his parents drive away. Maybe he saw his own loneliness in the other boy, which is why he took his picture and then put the picture in his bag. He took another when the boy clasped his hands under his chin and closed his eyes.

"Please, Santa, I don't want to be alone," Steven said.

Jonathan remembered thinking he didn't want to be alone either and how he wished his dad would stop hurting his mother. He remembered taking a step toward the boy and went to leave the woods to introduce himself when another boy ran up the driveway.

"Steve!"

"Tommy!"

Jonathan stepped back and watched them embrace.

"You shouldn't be alone on your birthday, Stevie boy. Your parents may have forgotten but I never will!" Tommy yelled and ran into the house, holding up a gift. "Come open it!"

"Thank you, Santa," Steve had said.

Jonathan had taken a picture of his smiling, happy face, too. He remembered thinking how pretty Steve had looked then, but he also figured that someone like Jonathan would never be friends with someone like him and pushed that moment to the back of his mind. He didn't know why he never made the connection. . .that it had been the same Steve he had fallen in love with. . .why did he only remember now?

"Jonathan, you're crying," Nancy said, pulling him out of the memory.

"I love him," Jonathan said.

Nancy touched his face and leaned her head against his. Just as Nancy was about to say something, El came storming out of the waiting room just as Hopper came back from tending to her father.

"We have found his location. Thanks to Chrissy," El said to Jonathan and Nancy. "They are using his powers against him."

"Alright. Me and El will go get Steve. You guys stay here," Hopper said.

"What? No, we'll go with you!" Nancy exclaimed.

"Someone needs to stay here with your sister, and I'm not going to risk anyone else's lives out there. It's bad enough that I'm risking my own daughter's," Hopper said.

"No matter where we are in this damn town, we're already at risk," Jonathan said.

"Mike can look after Holly and Robin. . .," Nancy said, turning to the others who had spilled out into the hallway. "You'll look after the kids."

"No! Because we're going with you too!" Dustin exclaimed.

"There needs to be people here to look after my sister, and I can't be in two places at once. So, I'm asking you to do what Steve would have done. . . Please, keep Holly safe," Nancy pleaded softly.

"Don't worry, Nancy, we got this," Erica said, for once being agreeable.

They forget sometimes how much Steve means to so many people but especially to Erica. Steve, himself, doesn't even realize it. Jonathan knew she was putting on a brave face, but he could see the fear and worry in her eyes. Robin, however, wanted to argue right back with a furious look on her face. Her friend, Vickie, had shown up at one point and slipped her hand into Robin's.

"We'll look after them," Vickie said, and Robin's face softened.

Dustin opened his mouth to argue, but Lucas nudged him.

"We need to look after Max, too," Lucas said to Dustin. "And Ted and Karen."

"And you're going to need to my awesome flamethrowers. Pizza isn't the only thing I like to cook," Argyle reminded them.

"Argyle the Pyro Pizzaman," Jonathan said and they shared a laugh.

There wasn't a doubt in his mind that Will and Joyce were coming with them either. Hopper knew it was pointless to argue with them. Will hated to leave Mike, but he had powers of his own. There was no way he wasn't going to back up his brother and sister. Everyone hugged each other tightly. Will hugged his friends and then hugged Mike last. El hugged Dustin and kissed him soundly. Lucas made a noise of surprise.

"When the hell did that happen?" Lucas asked. "I thought you were still dating Mike!"

"We broke up, but it is okay. We are friends," El said and paused. "He will always be my first love. You were a great first boyfriend."

"And you were a great first girlfriend," Mike said, and they hugged tightly. "Be careful."

"Aww," Dustin said and Will laughed.

"And you guys aren't upset?" Lucas asked.

"It was difficult. We both cried. . .Mike more than I did," El grinned.

"I did not!" Mike exclaimed.

"I think it's sweet," Will said, and Mike blushed.

It felt so wrong to split up, but Jonathan knew they really didn't have a choice. They all hated it. The ride to the lab was silent. . .of course, it was the lab. None of them knew what they would find there, and Jonathan hoped that they would find Steve alive as well as Eddie. Nancy was holding his hand so tightly that he thought she would break it, but he welcomed it anyway, needing it just as much as she did. Of all them, El was the most troubled by going back to the lab. Jonathan reached over and squeezed his sister's shoulder with his free hand. She relaxed a little and pressed her cheek onto his hand. He could tell from the reflection in the window that she looked more determined than before. After they all got out of this, Jonathan swore he was going to spend time with both of his siblings. Maybe take them out for ice cream. It was daunting pulling up to the lab, and Jonathan remembered the last time they were here. Bob had died.

"That's not going to happen to him," Nancy said, as if she could read his thoughts.

"We won't let it," Jonathan said.

When they got out of the car, Nancy pulled out her shotgun and handed Jonathan their bat. The building was covered in the vines from the Upside Down and looking more intimidating than ever. Everyone walked to the front doors only to find Wayne Munson and Gareth Emerson trying to get in.

"Hey!" Hopper yelled. "What do you think you're doing here?"

"My boy is in there!" Wayne hollered. "I know it!"

"Mr. Munson. . .how do you know that?" Nancy asked.

"I heard him calling to me. . .he's scared," Wayne said, gripping a shotgun in his hands.

"I was with him when said he heard him, I don't know if he heard Eddie or not, but I thought I ought to go with him," Gareth said. "Will, what the hell is this place?"

"You shouldn't be here," Will said.

"Neither should you," Gareth scowled.

"We'll sort that out later," Hopper said.

"Step back," El said.

Wayne and Gareth looked at her for a moment before doing what she said. She held out her hand and moved the vines away from the door. Once they were gone, she blasted them open.

"What the fuck?" Gareth asked and then leaned close to Will. "So, when you said on our date that your sister is basically Wonder Woman. . ."

Gareth was a terrible whisperer. Nancy and Jonathan heard every word. They shared a surprised look.

"I thought for sure Will and Mike. . ." Nancy started to say.

"Yeah, me too," Jonathan said.

"I love Mike," Will told his brother. "But he just broke up with our sister, and I, personally, need some time while I'm still young to explore my options."

"You've been pining after my brother for a long time," Nancy pointed out.

"And don't you think it's his turn?" Will asked, causing Nancy and Gareth to laugh.

"And you don't mind?" Jonathan asked Gareth.

"What? Being used by Will Byers? Worth it," he said, grinning. "Besides, he's honest. . .it's refreshing."

"Quiet!" Hopper hissed.

Suddenly, they remembered where they were and got serious again as they quieted down. Jonathan watched in amusement as Hopper muttered under his breath about fighting the apocalypse with teenagers and their drama. They followed El all the way to the room where she had opened her first gate. Vines were all over the place with bats hanging from the ceiling. . .with demogorgons lying on the ground at Vecna's feet. On the walls, Steve and Eddie were wrapped up in the vines. They were unconscious. Along with them were Chrissy, Fred, and Patrick. The plan was simple. Chrissy, Fred, and Patrick were supposed to keep him busy inside his head while El killed him from the outside. Hopper and the others would be their backup, torching anything that tried to assist with Vecna. Wayne tried to go to Eddie, but Jonathan put a hand on his arm.

"Wait," Jonathan mouthed.

El closed her eyes, held out her hand at Vecna, and began to levitate. It had gotten the attention of the bats and demogorgons. They raised up all at once and surrounded their master. . .screeching and howling at the intruders. Hopper and Argyle started up the flamethrowers as the bats rained down upon them. Nancy blasted away the demogorgons along with Wayne while Jonathan hit the bats with Naily. Will blasted away creatures with his powers, the very ones he had been working to use with El. Gareth had looked at him in awe for a moment before pulling out a knife of his own. The fight went on for a while, the bats falling away from the flames along with the demogorgons. Will had no other choice but to pull himself away from Gareth and Wayne to help his sister kill Vecna. El's eyes were red, and black veins were spreading across her face as blood gushed from her nose. Jonathan knew he hadn't quite gotten far with growing and developing his powers. He looked away for a moment as Will levitated to join El.

"Will!"

A demogorgon came upon Jonathan, and he fell to the ground. The monster snarled, and its face opened up, saliva dripping on Jonathan's face. He could hear everything exploding around him, could smell the gunfire and the smell of the smoke. . . the smell of the disgusting vines. He could hear them slithering and sliding away. Suddenly, he could see feet appearing, as if people were suddenly dropped from the walls. A moment later, something was swinging against the monster's sides. The demogorgon fell off of him, and Jonathan looked up to see a pale Steve above him, holding the bat. Half of his face was scratched and bruised. Steve held out a hand and pulled him to his feet, wrapping an arm around his waist to steady him. Jonathan pressed his lips against Steve’s in a hard, desperate kiss, tears spilling from his eyes. Jonathan could taste his own salty tears along with Steve’s.

"Fuck," Jonathan gasped as he pulled back, remembering what was going on.

He turned his attention onto the scene in front of him while Nancy kissed Steve. Vecna's body was burnt to a crisp, dead. Will and El were leaning against each other, exhausted. Their eyes were still red, and blood was dripping from their noses. Patrick Mckinney and Fred Benson were looking at each other in amazement. Wayne was hugging Eddie tightly, the both of them crying. Chrissy was standing awkwardly, waiting to talk to Eddie. Had he not seen her?

"Eddie?" Chrissy asked.

"Oh God, I'm hearing things. I swear, I keep hearing Chrissy Cunningham's voice. . .it's all I have been hearing lately, and maybe that was a dream. . .that she's alive," Eddie sobbed.

"No, she's here, son. Turn around," Wayne said, pulling back.

Eddie turned around and yelped before pulling her into a tight hug. Chrissy beamed and returned the hug. Eddie quickly pulled away.

"Shit, sorry - " Eddie said.

Chrissy giggled before grabbing him by the back of his neck and kissing him deeply. Eddie froze for a minute, unsure of where to put his hands, and they all watched as they flapped around excitedly as he kissed her back. Chrissy giggled against his lips and placed his hands on her waist. He broke the kiss, cupping her face.

"I kept thinking that I was hearing your voice. . .calling my name in the back of my head. It was part of what kept me going," Eddie said.

"I was calling your name," Chrissy said.

"I heard you," he whispered.

"I heard you, too, Eddie," she said.

"What?"

"That song you played right before you died. . .was that really for me?" Chrissy asked.

"Absolutely, sweetheart," Eddie said.

"You really died, Eddie?" Wayne asked.

Eddie turned around and was about to say something to his uncle when the ground began to shake. The vines started slithering away, pulling back and taking Vecna's body with them. They all watched in amazement as the vines disappeared out of the room and put the door. They all held onto each other as the ground continued to shake.

"To answer your question. . .yeah, I died. I'm a vampire now, Uncle Wayne," Eddie sighed. "I really am a freak."

"Yeah, you are," Chrissy said, elbowing him in the side. "It's a good thing I have a thing for freaks."

"It's also because it's also because it takes one to know one," Eddie laughed. "You're a freak, Chrissy Cunningham."

When the ground finally stopped shaking, they all moved outside. The skies had been cleared of the particles, and they could see the vines slinking back to where it came from. The skies had darkened, though, and thunder was now growling loudly. The rain came pouring down in buckets at though it were trying to wash away all of the filth and destruction that the Upside Down had caused, that Henry had caused. They stood under cover and all watched the rain coming pouring down.

"Max should be awake when we get back to the hospital," El said.

"You saw her? Was she with you in Henry's mind?" Nancy asked.

"She was, and she fought like Max," El grinned.

"I don't really understand what just happened," Fred said.

"It's okay, I never understand what's going on," Steve said. "Everyone thought you were dead, but Vecna, that monster, only made it seem like it. Think Freddy Krueger."

"Jesus," Patrick cursed. "Eddie. . .man, I'm sorry, I really thought you killed Chrissy."

"To be fair, what were you supposed to think?" Eddie mumbled.

"That I should have known better not to judge you the way that we did," Patrick said.

"Maybe. . . "

Eddie stared at him for a moment, a look of understanding passed between them. He turned to Chrissy with a grin and grabbed her hand before dragging her out in the rain. She shrieked with laughter and clung to him as he began dancing with her. Jonathan realized that Steve’s arm was still wrapped around his waist, and he looked at him.

"You're not dragging me out into that weather. I don't care how much you inflate those Bambi eyes of yours," Steve said.

"Yeah, good luck with that. He gets those from his mother," Hopper said. "You're screwed."

"Don't listen to him. Besides, I don't want to go out there either," Jonathan said. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, not dead, so that's a surprise," Steve said. "I'd figure that I wouldn't make it out this time."

"Don't talk like that," Nancy said.

"You used to pray to Santa," Jonathan blurted out.

"What?" Steve asked. "How the hell do you know that? I never told anyone that. . .not even Robin because I know she'd mock me mercilessly."

"It's embarrassing. . ." Jonathan trailed off. "I didn't even remember until after you went missing. . ."

Jonathan told them, away from Hopper's and Wayne's prying ears. The rain had gotten louder and had practically drowned out any sound. Jonathan was standing close to Steve and Nancy. Steve stared at him in surprise.

"Wow, so it wasn't the first time that you did that," Steve said teasingly.

"I'm sorry, Steve. The whole picture incident. . .it's the worst thing I have ever done. I apologized to Nancy, but I never apologized to you. I spent so much time using the camera to hide, to push people away. I just forget there's more to people than what I think their image is telling me," Jonathan said. "I just forget about the boundaries when I look through the lense. . . Mom is right. I tend to act like I'm alone in this world."

"Well, you're not the first person to ever do something stupid to try and push people away," Steve said. "And I get it. . .what it feels like to feel like you're all alone in this world."

"Neither one of us is perfect," Nancy said. "We all try to do things on our own, but we don't have to do that anymore. Well, the difficult stuff anyway, we're still individuals. Just. . .when we feel like we need each other. . .let's agree to try and let each other in. . .without resorting to anything drastic. By the way, Steve, does Jonathan know that you were the one who bought him that camera?"

"What?"

"Surprise!"

They laughed as they watched Eddie and Chrissy dance happily in the rain for a while. Finally, the rain let up, and they came back over to the group. Eddie shook his head like a dog all over Gareth, who laughed and pretended to be mad but then hugged him tightly. Chrissy giggled and moved over to Nancy.

"It's weird that this is how we were brought back together," Chrissy said.

"Yeah, I wish it were under better circumstances," Nancy said, and Eddie bounded over to them.

"I forgot you two were on the squad," Eddie said.

"Well, we knew each other pretty well then," Chrissy said. "Should I tell him?"

Nancy laughed and nodded. Chrissy leaned over and whispered in his ear. He gasped.

"No way! Me and Jonathan!" Eddie exclaimed.

"What?!" Chrissy laughed. "Wow. Small world."

"Small town," Eddie said and then looked at Steve. "Shit, sorry, forgot about your face."

He spat directly in Steve's eyes, and Steve hollered.

"Damn it, Eddie!"

Once the rain finally stopped, they drove back to the hospital, where everyone was still in the waiting room. Robin hollered when she saw Steve and pulled herself away from Vickie to throw herself into Steve’s arms.

"Okay, we are never ever getting separated again. I am not letting you out of my sight," Robin said.

"What happens when you want to go on a date? Do you just bring me along?" Steve scoffed.

"Vickie! Is it alright if I bring my platonic soulmate on our date?" Robin asked.

"Okay!" Vickie exclaimed happily.

Robin froze and she stared at Steve in horror.

"Did I just ask Vickie out in front of everyone?" Robin asked.

"Yeah," Steve said.

"Ah, fuck it," Robin said.

"How's mom and dad?" Nancy asked Mike as she hugged him and their sister.

"Dad is going to be fine, but Mom's still not out of the woods," Mike said softly.

Jonathan gave them a moment, and he saw Lucas hug Patrick before pulling back. He cursed.

"Max!" Lucas yelled.

El grabbed Lucas's hand, and they ran off together towards Max's room. Everyone else ran off after them. Jonathan could see the doctors moving out of her room and Max sitting up as Lucas stood by her bed.

"Hey, stalker," she croaked, looking at him.

She was looking at him. . .she could see. He supposed that if the other's bodies were fakes. . .illusions, then he supposed blinding her had also been an illusion. He wondered if breaking her bones had been as well.

"Mad Max," Lucas sobbed.

"You should probably kiss me before I change my mind," Max said.

Lucas leaned down and kissed her, sitting on the edge of the bed. They broke the kiss, and Lucas hugged her tightly.

"I never wanted to leave your side," he said. "Sometimes, I had to. All I wanted to do was read to you until you woke up."

"I heard you, Lucas. I'm sorry I didn't before. I'm here," Max said and squeezed him tighter. "So, everyone is here except for my mother. . .that tracks."

"Actually, she was here for a long time. She never left your side. We had a hard time getting her to eat and drink until Joyce talked to her. . .or rather yelled at her. She checked herself into rehab. She wanted to be better for you when you woke up," Lucas said.

"Oh. . .well, that's good," Max said, blinking back tears and smiling. "That's really good. . . Okay, so how long did it take to kill this fucker?"

"Well, it's December 1987," Lucas winced.

"A fucking year?!" Max asked. "I think I missed our date."

"I missed it too," Lucas sniffled and laughed.

Jonathan took Steve’s hand, who smiled softly at him. Steve took Nancy's, and she smiled at both of them. They hoped that they didn't have to deal with any more shit after this. . .that they could all have their happily ever after.

"So, I guess we're never going to know what Creel was planning," Max said.

"Oh, yeah, he was trying to summon enough power to awaken a dragon," Eddie replied.

"WHAT?!"

"Yeah, we were all in his head," Chrissy said. "There's a dragon sleeping inside a mountain in the Upside Down. Like hundreds of years ago, it came from the Upside Down and wrecked havoc. It took tons of psychic energy to put it to sleep. They tried killing it, but it was immune to most things. Eventually, the demogorgons were born, as well as the bats to keep people from awakening the beast. The Mind Flayer was the guard, and basically, was a beacon for any psychics to stay out. . .to keep the gates closed. They never expected Henry to try and control them or to take their power as his own. Henry needed El and all of us because we were descended from the original psychics who put the dragon to sleep."

"Jesus. . . I guess we're going to keep an eye on that," Hopper said.

"Are you saying that we're going to have to create a secret order?" Dustin asked.

"Dragon keepers," Eddie grinned.

"Dragon lords," Dustin said and then frowned. "No, Dragon Keepers sound better."

"Knights of the Dragon, an order for both men and women who choose to vow to keep that fucker asleep," Eddie said.

"And so shall it be. . .," Dustin said.

"So, not like the Knights of Hellfire?" Steve asked.

"Damn it, that is good," Eddie cursed.

"Okay. . .now it's so shall it be. . ."

A YEAR LATER. . .

The light streamed in through the curtains, practically blinding Jonathan. He groaned. They forgot to close the curtains last night after getting off of work. He pulled away from Steve’s arms, and Steve groaned. He clung to Jonathan.

"Where do you think you're going?" Steve asked.

"We forgot to close the curtains last night," Jonathan said.

Jonathan stumbled out of bed and towards the curtains. He bumped into the desk chair, knocking his shirt uniform to the floor. He picked it up. KNIGHTS OF HELLFIRE was on a patch on the arm of the shirt. The order was still going strong, and there was no sign of any awakening of the beast. Jonathan really liked working with them, mostly because it was run by Joyce and Hopper. Though it was funded by Sam Owen's family, he knew that the money had to come from somewhere, and at least they were running the order themselves. They also inadvertently gave them the ability to make the town safe for people like Jonathan and his family. Working with them also gave them the freedom to do whatever they wanted.

"Hurry up, it's bad enough that Nancy isn't here," Steve groaned. "The bed is getting cold, baby."

"Just hold on," Jonathan said and folded the shirt over the chair, moving it and turning to look at Steve. "I'm glad Emerson gave her another chance, and she's having the time of her life, but I miss her too."

"It helps that Eddie's victims weren't actually dead. That asshole is still riding high on becoming the town hero who rescued them from a psychopath's basement. All hail King Eddie," Steve snorted. "I wish she could be in two places at once."

"Like two Nancys?" Jonathan asked with a grin.

"Now, there's an idea," Steve said, and then he froze. "The curtain just moved."

"What?" Jonathan asked and turned to find the drapes were shaking. "I told you your new place was haunted."

"When are you going to call it our place?" Steve asked. "I mean, when's the last time you slept at your parents' house?"

"Uh. . ."

Steve leaped off the bed and grabbed the bat out from underneath his bed. Jonathan stared at him.

"What?"

"You're naked and holding the bat," Jonathan said.

"Focus, baby, there's an intruder in our home," Steve said.

They hadn't even gotten close when suddenly Nancy jumped out from behind the curtain. Steve and Jonathan screamed. Nancy was lucky that Steve had forgotten about the bat and dropped it. Suddenly, Robin and Vickie came running in wearing t-shirts that Robin had stolen from Steve as well as Jonathan. Robin was holding something long - she quickly threw it over her shoulder. It buzzed loudly as it hit the floor, and it continued to buzz as Robin quickly kicked it down the hallway. They could still hear it.

"Oh, it's just our other roommate home from college! Hi, Nancy!" Vickie exclaimed happy.

"Hi, Vickie, you're looking very satisfied this morning," Nancy smirked.

"I am!" Vickie exclaimed.

"Nancy, you scared the hell out of us! I could have hit you with this," Steve said picking up the bat.

"But you didn't. Hm. . .No wonder Jonathan got distracted," Nancy smiled.

She wrapped her arms around Steve and kissed him deeply. He dropped the bat and returned the kiss. Robin groaned and rolled her eyes as she went to stomp out of the room. She stopped.

"Wait. . .our roommate?" Robin asked. "Did you move in with us?"

"Accidentally! I went to get more stuff from my house and I realized that I couldn't remember the last time I slept there. Also, I had slowly moved my stuff over here without realizing it," Vickie said.

"Hey, Jonathan did the same thing!" Steve laughed. "Oh! I need to call Eddie! Tell him what you tried to use as a weapon."

"Don't you dare!" Robin exclaimed.

"Too late!"

Steve dove on the bed and reached for the phone on the nightstand. Jonathan watched in amusement as Steve dialed the number by heart, his perky ass on display for everyone to see as he twirled the phone cord with his finger. Robin groaned.

"Nobody wants to see that, Steven!"

"I beg to differ," Jonathan said as he reached over and smacked Steve’s ass before throwing a blanket over it.

"She acts like it bothers her, but she's seen it a million times," Steve said. "Oh, hey, Chrissy wants to know if Eddie and Robin are secretly related because Eddie used the same thing when he thought someone was breaking into the house. It was just a raccoon."

Jonathan wrapped his arms around Nancy and kissed her deeply.

"It's wonderful to see you but next time you decide to surprise us. . .we both like chocolate," Jonathan laughed.

"I couldn't resist," Nancy giggled.

"Anyway. . .I'm glad you're back, Nancy. Vickie and I are going back to sleep. Uh, we just have to get our, uh, flashlight," Robin said.

"Right! Flashlight!" Nancy, Jonathan, and Steve laughed.

"Dingus!" Steve exclaimed.

"That's my word, Steven Otis!"

Jonathan grabbed the phone from Steve.

"Hey, Eddie."

"Jonathan, my man!"

"Bye, Eddie!"

"Okay, that's fucking rude - "

"Steve’s naked and Nancy just got back for Christmas break - "

"Say no more - "

Jonathan hung up the phone, and Nancy immediately wedged herself in between them. Jonathan kissed her, enjoying the way she felt beneath him and the familiar noises she made. Oh, fuck, he missed her. Judging by the desperate way she kissed him, she missed him just as much. She turned around in his arms, letting his lips fall to her neck as she kissed Steve just as desperately.

"I missed you guys, too," Nancy said as she broke the kiss. "Do I also have a home here?"

"Always. . .no matter where you are," Steve said.

"Now, I can call it our place," Jonathan said.

Afterward, Jonathan lay in bed, staring at his sleeping partners beside him. Steve was lying on his front while Nancy slept on his back. The sunlight streamed through the currents, shining down on both of them, bathing them in a beautiful golden light as though they were angels. Oops, they forgot to close the curtains. Jonathan gazed down on them and wondered how he got so lucky. He looked around the room. . .at the collection of their things that had found their way into the room. Their clothes were in the closet, his camera sat on the desk, the basketball that Steve played with Lucas was sitting in the laundry basket, Nancy's books were sitting on the shelf that Steve had put up, and all of their pictures hung on the wall. They had a life together even with the threat of the dragon looming over their heads, something that's always going to be there, which is why Jonathan knew they needed to enjoy all that life had to offer. . . Especially the good things. He was suddenly very glad that he and Eddie had never gotten on the same page. This was where he wanted to be.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Jonathan, Nancy, and Steve jumped up when someone knocked on their bedroom door.

"Code white! I repeat! Code white!" Dustin's voice came through. "It's time to plan a very illegal wedding! Remember when you said I could plan it! I heard from Ted and Karen that Nancy's home. . .Jonathan?! Steve?!"

"Why did you go and tell him that?" Steve asked sleepily.

"Why did you go and adopt Dustin Henderson as your brother?" Jonathan asked.

"I still say he kidnapped me," Steve said and Nancy giggled.

"I CAN HEAR YOU! . . . ASSHOLES!"

Jonathan snuggled up against his partners, choosing to ignore Dustin and enjoy the time he had in this world. Dreams of traveling the world with Steve and Nancy in the RV with their dog in Nancy's lap danced in his head.

[cosmiccandydreamer]

Too little too late (no minors)

Alastor x F!reader x semi Lucifer

Chapter 2

~This hole you put me in, Wasn't' deep enough

And I'm climbing out right now, You're running out of places to hide from me.~

*******************************************

"That bitch doesn't know everything I've done for her. Who does she think she is, doesn't she know all I have sacrificed for her?” The small contents that had been resting on the dashboard in his radio tower now fell onto the floor with a loud crash. He grabbed at his hair, grunting between gritted teeth.

“How fucking dare she?? And with all people him? That pretentious little shit excuse for a king?”. He slid to the floor, claws digging into his hair, trickles of blood trailing down along the sides of his face. What was he going to do? He can't kill the king of hell.. as much as he would love to. He would enjoy tearing the pathetic smile from his lips, ripping his chest open, deflating the smug hot air that puffed from his chest.

Did he know you the way he did? Did he know the way you loved tea with more milk than sugar? The way you hated the hot summer days but loved the warm summer nights. Did he know you've already read every book in the library 10 times and still had something new to say about them? Did he know how you loved your neck licked? Especially the small part close to your collarbone. Oh, the idea of his slimy snake tongue worming its way along your perfectly soft skin, ripping those sweet small gasps from your throat…. Those sounds were for him and him alone. How dare you how FUCKING dare you. That idea alone turned his blood cold, his horns protruding from his head, his eyes transforming into details.

He tried to steady his breathing, and collect his thoughts..his eyes darted back and forth scanning the room..he was lost in his sadness and pure unfiltered rage. Wait.. you never said you didn't love him anymore, you said you can't! Why can't you?? Were you in some sort of deal?? With Lucifer??? Oh Lucifer didn't know who he was up against, no if he assumed he would go quietly he was more stupid than he looked.

The mindset he was in at the moment, he barely cares how this situation would affect his standing with Charlie, I'll rip her fucking throat out too if she gets in my way..y/n belongs to me we promised each other. Maybe she's forgotten that maybe I have to remind her of her promise.

His eyes snapped up his hands, finally leaving his sore and abused scalp. "Yes, yes that's it, she just needs a reminder, it's ok my darling it's ok I'll forgive you, we can fix this". He stood, laughter ripping from his throat, gritty and deranged. "Yes, I'm coming, I'm coming it's time you were reminded, reminded where you belong. Whatever this situation is, I can remove you from it. I can fix it". His large smile returned, not meeting his crazed eyes. Grabbing his microphone, his shadow appeared at his side displaying the same maddened smile, mirroring his masters as they both melted into the shadows.

“Darling, is something wrong with the food?” “hm?” “I asked if something was wrong with the food. You've hardly taken a bite! I can order something else” You weren't sure how long you had been pushing your pasta around with your fork in the dim restaurant Lucifer had taken you to this evening. You also weren't sure how long he had been talking, ranting about Charlie and ducks and overlords.

Your mind was still focused on the conversation with Alastor earlier, the look in his eyes when you had left. You could have sworn you heard a sniffle behind you as you turned and left the room leaving him alone. “No! No, everything is fine!” You lifted your head off the hand you had resting on the table. Moving your fork once again you forced yourself to take a bite, pushing past your nauseousness that had settled in your stomach.

Lucifer eyed you suspiciously, pushing away his place he reached over the table clasping your free hand on his. He ran a thumb over the back of your hand sighing. “Sweetheart please, I can tell something is on your mind, why won't you just tell me? Let me help you lighten your load?”. You looked up at him, his sweet fanged smile, his rosy cheeks and soft kind eyes underneath light purple eyelids. He was truly handsome, the most handsome in hell some would say.

You felt the hot sharp pain of guilt creeping into your stomach, it felt like you had swallowed sandpaper, causing it to suck all the moisture from your throat. Why did you feel this way? You haven't cheated on him, you haven't done anything! You told Alastor it was over between you both, so why did you feel so guilty?.

“I'm ok Luci, truly I think I'm just tired, it was a long day at the hotel that's all! I'm fine”. you squeezed his hand back reassuringly offering him a small smile that didn't meet your eyes. You're lying he thought but he wouldn't push it, not now not here. “You know I am too! What do you say we get the check and head home?”. He looked over to the waiter waving them down. You nodded, not answering him, returning to your thoughts. You had to let Alastor go, it was the right thing to do, you could be happy with Luci, he was an amazing man and he's always treated you with respect, he was kind, funny and handsome anyone would be lucky to be with him.

You didn't speak as you stood watching him pay the check. You slipped on your thin cardigan, pulling it around you almost protectively. “Ready to go hon?” His hands wrapped around your waist pulling you into a side hug, as the bright portal to your shared home opened before you. Walking through you tossed your purse on the floor next to the bed before beginning to undress, you could hear Lucifer faintly in the distance putting the leftovers in the fridge.

This night had exhausted you, you couldn't help but wonder what Alastor was currently up to. Was he angry? Taking it out on some poor innocent sinner somewhere in the streets of the pride ring? Was he sad, was he.. with someone else.. in an attempt to forget your body; lying above another? That thought.. the picture of him touching, feeling, kissing another. Oh it hurt and it hurt bad, but you knew you had no right to be hurt. You had told what you told him earlier and the cards lay where they may.

“Feeling any better?” Their hands in his white jacket pocket, large hats already discarded Lucifer signed standing in the doorway observing your body language. “Did everything go ok at the hotel today? Did something happen?"Crossing the room over, he wrapped his arms around your waist nuzzling into your shoulder. You set your hands on his looking back at him. “No, I promise I'm ok just a long day, thank you for dinner”. You pressed a small kiss to his nose, pulling out of his grasp to finish undressing.

He retreated to a chair next to him, and beginning to remove his shoes he looked up at you, watching you remove your layers slowly. You eyed him in the mirror behind you. “What?” You lightly chuckled meeting his eyes. He shrugged “Just admiring my beautiful fiance is all” his eyes lowered, his forked snake tongue protruding to moisten his lips. You were so beautiful and sexy..neither of you had taken the plunge and fully made love yet, opting to take things slow, but Lucifer was growling impatient. His need to discover how delicious your nectar would truly be was starting to drive him mad. And watching you now undressing before him was torture, the elegant curve of your back, the sway of your hips.. the curls in your hair rippling down your back as you removed your hairpins.

You felt shy under his gaze, exposed and vulnerable. You very childishly felt guilty again. Your thoughts floated to Alastor, you had promised him no man would ever see this way but him. “Say it” his words were staggered, broken as he pumped into you “Say it. “I'm yours Alastor” Eyes rolled back fists clenching his scared tan skin “It's all for you I promise only for you” “Yes” his head scanned your face, clawed hands holding your cheeks so softly so tender “Only for me”.

Holding back the tears that had started to form in the corner of your eyes you pushed that memory away, You discreetly whipped your eyes hoping Lucifer wouldn't notice, you fake smiled back at him over your shoulder “You're so sweet, my king”. You crossed over to the drawer pulled out a nightgown and continued your undressing, you were used to his eyes now always watching and lingering over your body. He raised from his seat behind to undress and change himself.

You took the opportunity to retreat to the bathroom, you splashed some cold water on your face taking in deep breaths. You had to hold it together; this was your life now. Heading back towards the bedroom you hoped that Lucifer would be preoccupied with whatever new project he was currently interested in so you could get some sleep without any further explanation.

To your luck, though he was waiting on the bed for you arms outstretched, “Come here my dear cuddle with me” You crawled in next to him letting him engulf you in his embrace. “I know I sound like a broken record” his thumb lightly rubbing on your arm “but please talk to me when something is bothering you, let me try and help share your load”. You looked up at him and signed “I know and thank you I promise I'm ok for now, maybe a little stressed with all the projects going on at the hotel”. “Has Alastor been giving you trouble?”

The mention of his name was a sharp poker through your heart, you gripped your bottom lip between your teeth shaking your head side to side “Na uh”. Closing your eyes you attempted to drift off to sleep when you felt Lucifer move next to you, soon he was moving down the bed and you felt your nightgown slowly lifting, your eyes shot open “Luci? What are you doing?” He was adjusting himself by your thighs running a hand softly over them. “I know we agreed to take things slow but I wanted to try and make you feel better if you don't mind” his sly smile reaching his half-lidded eyes.

You didn't want him to eat you out, but you also knew if he was to be your husband you would have to get used to his touch. Lucifer wasn't a bad man, a cruel man or anything of the sort, he was on all counts a great man and a great choice of husband. Your body thought your body knew what and who you wanted, but once again you pushed that feeling down. “oh ah sure” you answered in a shaky voice holding your hands in a clasp by your torso. “Thank you” he chuckled “No need to thank me, love, I should be thankful for you allowing me to partake in such an enjoyable activity” he winked at you before spreading your legs slowly. He started to kiss up your leg slowly humming contently.

Despite your best efforts your mind began to wander to past experiences. “Such smooth soft skin my darling” Alastor was kissing and lightly sucking slowly pressing his nose into your leg as he crept up your leg. You squirmed happily, his touch was electrical, lighting up every part of you. His large clawed hands slowly pulled your legs apart, pressing his face into your womanhood and inhaling your sweet scent, “hmmm delicious”

You felt him hook a claw into the band of your panties pulling them down and off your legs, he hooked your legs over his shoulder, claws digging into your thighs, he smiled at you a smile like he had seen the most delectable dessert in his life. He licked a long deep stripe against your lower region causing you to gasp and grip the sheets. “Oh fuck, I love you” You felt him chuckle against your skin “I love you too my firefly” before diving back into your sweet juices.

“Wait! Wait wait I'm sorry” Your whole body seized in response to Lucifer’s hands slowing opening your lap, he froze and looked up with apologetic eyes, he sat back on his heels, “Oh Gods I'm so sorry, this was probably too soon I don't mean to rush you I'm ok waiting!” He pulled back your nightgown over your legs and crawled back to lay next to you, “Please forgive me we agreed to take things slow I just wanted to help make you feel better”. You ran your hands down your face, you felt guilty he shouldn't be apologizing to you, here he was trying to give you pleasure while you think of another man. “No don't be sorry I just I am really tired I'm not feeling up to it right now” You turned over and patted his arm “But thank you for wanting to truly Luci I think I just want to get some sleep”. He hooked his arm around you nesting into the pillows comfortably. “Ok my love, yeah it's time for bed for me too”. You both snuggled into the comfortable blankets and leaned on his chest, hearing the soft pitter patter of his heart and slow breath. Soon he passed out lightly snoring and content.

You however could not sleep. Peeling his arm off you, you slinked out of bed grabbed your robe and headed outside to the gardens. Sitting on a chair in the warm night air, you let the tears fall. “Oh Alastor”, you whispered to yourself “Oh how I miss you”. You held your face in your hands trying to muffle the sounds of your cries. You were so distracted you didn't notice the dark shadow appearing behind you and the tentacles slowly encasing your body"Hello my firefly".

Hope you all enjoyed reading! Please feel free to re-blog but not without credit ❤️

[pepsiiwho]

Hey I’m just very curious- do you think you could expand on your thought here: “Persephone isn't a good mother and, imo, would have a very strained, tentative relationship with her actual son (and now daughter hahahahah damn....)”? It’s not a common take I’ve seen- at least in the parts of the fandom I frequented- and I’d like to know more about where you’re coming from. Like I know Nyx isn’t a good mom- particularly to Hypnos- but it’s way less common that I see people saying Persephone is a bad mom.

To be clear, I’m not disagreeing or being confrontational or anything- I’m genuinely curious to hear your thoughts. Also what’s all this about the timeline implications? I don’t have a computer to play the early access on and so I have to hear about it second hand. All to say if you could tear yourself away from Hades 2 long enough to formulate a coherent response I’d be eternally grateful.

Sure! I just got to the final boss in hades 2 so I probably need a break. Ignore the shaking and cold temperature of my skin, I'm normal! Long post under the cut!

Okay lets see, first thing: any nyx or Persephone freedom fighters out there who wanna defend their mommies or whatever do it somewhere else, I don't give af. This isn't directed at you, I just gotta cover my bases. Anyway,

Don't get me wrong, I'm sure Persephone (Pers) loves zagreus, I won't say she doesn't. She lost him once and that grief drove her to leave hell entirely, leaving her husband and home behind for solitude of her own creation. You don't get grief like that unless you loved someone, or the thought of someone, deeply. But, having said that— she was gone for (functionally) all of Zagreus' childhood, adolescence and a non-zero portion of his adulthood. A charitable read of their situation was that she wasn't absentee by choice, not knowingly at least, and if she knew she would've never stayed away as another woman raised her child and her husband abused said child because of her toll on his mental. My read is that she left, abandoning her husband and baby and when Zagreus went to find her she wouldn't even come back with him. He reached out, found her, begged her to come back and she wouldn't. The reasoning for WHY is something I've forgotten honestly, I haven't played HADES story mode all the way through in years, but regardless she didn't instantly come back and will herself into her son's life. Any deniability she had was gone by that point, imo.

And let's say, for argument, she came home and instantly was heavenly and kind and loving and everything zagreus needed then— doesn't change the fact she abandoned them.

I don't think you get to be a good parent when you missed all of your child's most formative years. That sort of loss is something you don't get back, time that doesn't get to rewind just because you made a mistake. I think a common fandom take with hades fans is that the family is fractured but whole by the end and everything is okay. That's nice, I guess, but I think it's boring and uninteresting. I much prefer a read that zagreus moved heaven and hell (literally) to get to his mother and he finally got what he wanted and still wasn't satisfied. She wasn't the goddess he expect. Not the. mother he expected. She was .... something else.

Theres a degree of negligence in her actions that just are unavoidable.

Unless I'm completely misremembering the events of the first game, (which is a real possibility, me and my best friend have done so much insane HC talking over the years canon and Fanon get blurry quickly—) I think she's a bad parent. And this isn't even touching on how her absence made Hades a worse parent and abusive figure to his son. I think of that quote from... somewhere, that was something to the effect "an abused child's saddest realization is that they didn't have a normal parent and (1) abusive parent— they had (2)" Zagreus had to have thought that if she hadn't left, abandoned him, he wouldn't have to endure what he does.

As for time line mess: it's too vague. (It's funny you sent this when you did, I actually was just talking about this with my bestie, all of 15 minutes ago. You cursed me, witch)

So assuming I understood hades lore, with only the first game as our point of reference (no myth, no outside media, just the in game text) Hypnos, Zagreus, Than and Meg are around the same age. Thanatos and Hypnos are twins, meaning they're the same age and it's implied that meg grew up around the twins and zagreus as well. Zagreus openly references their shared childhood with nyx and achilles and probably other characters I forgot. But what matters is that if they grew up together that tells us one of two things:

Gods are functionally made like human children are. Not for a purpose or function but just because the parent wanted them (or had an accident) and then a aspect is applied to them at birth/conception OR

Gods are created by their parents to fulfill some sort of need that the parent didn't/couldn't/shouldn't do themselves. This seems to be the more textually supported answer, if Nyx and her fucking high school football team worth of children mean anything.

Neither option is one I like, because they don't make much sense to me in relation to humanity but that's neither here nor there. Personally, I think godhood should work like the concept of storks do in that when humanity needs a new figure to pray to or invoke, a child is 'born' and delivered to the parent. So, by this logic, the base needs of human begins would come before all else right?

So just within Nyx's family, the ages should really go Chaos > Nyx > Fates [?] > Hypnos > Than > Charon > etc etc etc. Because human beings must sleep before they die and then die before they're transported to hades and so on and so on.

But in THIS model, Hypnos and than would be considerably older then humanity and everyone else in the house, hades included. Which means they'd be far too old to have grown up which zagreus. Or maybe zagreus is way too old to be acting so childish? It's hard to say. Neither answer is particularly satisfying. That also doesn't even bring into account the olympians. And don't event get me STARTED on Melione. God. The timeline has major implications for her and her story depending on where she falls on it.

But that's a whole other rant. Like this is already getting long as shit. I hope this made sense and I'm glad you asked! I enjoy going on my senseless rambles.

Well, back to the horrors (hades 2) <3

[nowoyas]

Boiling Point 4: Finale - Miguel O'Hara x Reader (NSFW)

First - Prev - M.list - Ao3

A/N: by the power of banana pudding rum we got there. thanks for waiting and please enjoy!

Summary: We reach the part where you get what you want.

Notes: smut. this is the part with actual sex for real. uh biting mentions, blood drawn, etc.

Word Count: 2800

None of this has exactly been how you expected this night to go.

At any turn, you were expecting something else. Not eating sandwiches atop the Empire State building and sipping fountain drinks while you floated, quite frankly thinking you were out of your damn mind and dreaming some truly deranged shit, as Miguel acted exactly like normal in response to having discovered that your sex drive is basically controlled by whether or not he breathes in the same room as you on a given day.

By the time you've nearly finished your drink and near pulling off the lid to crunch the ice, mostly to have something to do with your mouth other than fuck up, Miguel lets out a heavy sigh.

Honestly, you're still stuck on the part where he knows. Clearly he's somewhere miles past you, speaking frankly, as though this is a normal conversation to be having. Just a Spiderman and the Spider belonging to this version of New York, far above the ground. You stare at the stars while he stares at the streets below.

"Are you understanding anything I've said to you? I'm starting to think you're not."

The ice cube cracks in your teeth. You spit it back into your cup to respond. "It's more like I think I'm being punked right now."

"Punked?" he repeats back. You wonder if that's because that's not a thing in Nueva York, or if it's because the idea is so stupid that he can't believe you've put it into the world in the first place. (It is, in fact, a little bit of both.)

You double down, because that is your best quality. "Yeah. Like, tricked? Pranked? You're sitting here having taken me out for chicken sandwiches in response to—hell, I don't think I can make myself say it out loud, but anyways you are Miguel O'Hara and it takes all the work in the world to not think of you by your full name every time because you're just that fucking amazing."

He lets you go on, watches you as you watch the stars. You pause to crunch another ice cube before continuing. "Like, I'm not sorry for thinking you're the hottest thing to walk any Earth. I am sorry you found out, because I can see how that would be uncomfortable to discover, but like. You are hot. I could go into excruciating detail, if you'd like, but I think that's a bit too much, and in case you haven't noticed, I'm trying to be, like, normal?"

"You're not any less normal than anyone else we’ve brought into the multiverse," he says. "I am now completely convinced that you haven't been listening to anything I've said, though."

“I haven’t… not been listening?”

“Okay. Then, what have I been telling you?”

You thoughtfully crunch another ice cube.

“…shit.”

He sighs. “Okay, let’s take it from the top. I was hoping you would figure out you were being an idiot before you sent yourself spiraling directly into sub drop, but that clearly didn’t happen. As fun as it’s been watching you drive yourself insane, this isn’t how I wanted to see you fall apart.”

“…okay.” He’s watching your every movement, and you, in turn, are trying to control each one, down to whatever microexpressions you can. Part of you wants to cry from the embarrassment of it all. But dammit, you are not sitting at the top of this building to cry for once. “So… how did you want to see me fall apart?”

“I can show you.”

Please hold. Buffering.

“Okay!” It comes out a squeak, but this is not a man who has the time to let you cringe, apparently, because you’re suddenly being bodily lifted from your perch, your trash nearly forgotten except your quick thinking to web it to you. Responsible superheroes don’t leave their trash on skyscrapers.

“Limits?” he says as he carries you, so easily for a man only using one hand.

“What?”

“What are your limits? Dirty talk, biting…”

Oh. Your face flares hot. I think you’re finally starting to get it. Good for you. “Um. I don’t… like… assplay?”

He nods, not even looking down at you. That’s fair. He’s a little occupied with the web-swinging right now. Actually, it’s kind of fun to be carried like this, rather than being the one doing all the work. You should find some way to con him into carrying you around like this again sometime.

“I can work with that. Anything else?”

“Um… normally I like degradation, but maybe not right now?”

“Makes sense. Safeword?”

You’ve suddenly forgotten every semblance of a safeword you’ve ever known. Good going. 10/10.

“Pumpkin,” you blurt.

“Pumpkin?”

“Pumpkin.”

“You didn’t just make that up on the spot, did you?”

“Not that you can prove.”

He lets out a soft huff, more felt than heard, and lands on the roof of your building. “Not sure I want your neighbor listening in.”

Ah. Yeah. That… huh.

(You are so fucking eloquent.)

You flash a grin. “Yeah, uh, I think he’s been doing that for a while. I might move, actually. When I can afford it. Do you think this is… better?”

He sighs. “No. But I need a moment.”

“Oh, okay, I can—“

His lips crash down on yours, and fuck it, this clearly isn’t real, so of course you’re going to moan against his lips and kiss him right back. He’s so much bigger than you—all muscles and hard lines and, when he pulls back and you open your eyes, deep red eyes and sharp teeth.

He must like something he sees in the way his eyes roam over you, because he groans and drops his head a bit. “Do you have any idea how difficult it’s been to not think about taking you like this?”

“Like what?” You do your best to sound innocent. It does something, a fact you’re proud to state you know from the way his clawed fingertips suddenly flex into your flesh.

…he is going to completely destroy you.

You, for one, are fully prepared for that outcome.

…probably.

Making out on the rooftop becomes making out in your bedroom becomes Miguel getting you out of your Spider suit in record time. (Maybe you’ll ask him for pointers after this, all things considered.) At least you’re not the only one getting surprised today—when he gets your top half bare and finds your tits bouncing free, not a bra in sight, there’s a growl passing his lips that leaves you shuddering.

“No bra?” His hand hovers over your breasts, as though waiting for permission.

You press your chest forward, right into his waiting hands. “Built into the suit.”

“That’s… dangerous.” His eyes are dark as they fixate on you, on the way your soft curves squish in his hands. “Have you ever worn a bra under the suit?”

You laugh, wrap your arms around his shoulders. “No, sir, I haven’t. You find me a stretchy spandex that doesn’t show every line underneath and then we’ll talk about bras and underwear.”

Without another word, he grabs at the rest of the suit bunched around your waist and yanks down. You yelp as you move with the suit, as you go from “superhero” to “ass-naked” in one fell swoop. That’s just unfair.

Dark eyes search your face, just a moment, just long enough for him to take in wide eyes and flushed cheeks. Whatever he’s looking for, clearly it satisfies him, because his next step is to jerk your hips up and hook your legs over his shoulders.

“So why don’t you tell me a bit about why you thought a contract like that was a good idea?”

You refuse to meet his eyes. Large hands dig into the flesh of your thighs—not painful, not enough to bruise, but enough that you feel the tiniest pricks of his claws threatening to press in.

“Come on, cariño. I wasn’t asking.”

You throw your arms over your face, hide your eyes so you don’t have to look at him when you admit it. “…I kept overheating the motors in my vibrators.”

He startles you with a real, genuine laugh. “Really.”

“Yes!” You jerk to try to face him, which leaves you in a weird half-crunch position. “You’re… a lot, okay? And I’m not, like, constantly constantly thinking about sex, with you or anyone else, but you do shit that gets me started and then I can’t stop and—“

“There you go,” he purrs. “That’s a good girl.”

Your rambling cuts off into a low moan as he buries his face between your thighs at last. His tongue enters your core, his fingers toy with your clit, and he works you up just to the point that you actually contemplate murder when he pulls away.

“Miguel, I can’t keep doing this,” you whine, tears already springing to your eyes in response to yet another denial.

He shushes you, gentle. You do not want gentle.

If we’re being completely honest, if this man does not break you tonight, your body is going to completely atomize itself on the spot.

“Please,” you whine.

He quirks a brow you-ways. Tilts his head. “What are you asking me for?”

“Anything. Need to cum. Please.”

A soft laugh. “You need it?”

“Need it.”

His fingers brush against your core, and you whine out.

“Okay.”

You nearly cry—first at the feeling of his fingers entering you, the promise that this is finally over, you’re finally done breaking toys and breaking yourself just to do something right, now someone else gets to break you—then at how expertly he manages to bring you back to the brim with two thick fingers pumping into your heat.

“There you go. You’re doing so well. So, so well, cariño.”

You smile through your moans, meet his blazing eyes as he works your walls and your clit. You cum hard and fast, writhing around him until he has to put a firm hand down on your stomach to keep you still, and this time, you do cry—from release, from overstimulation, from the fact that you got here and you did it and you did so well.

He doesn’t stop when you stop to catch your breath. The swift removal of his fingers is replaced once again by his mouth, and you cry as he laps up the fluttering remains of your first orgasm in so, so long. A jerk of your hips from the contact has just the barest brush of his fangs teasing against your pussy, just enough to remind you that they’re there and you’re finally, finally getting what you need.

“miguel,” you breathe out in lowercase.

He groans against you, grips your thighs again, and this time he does leave thin red lines behind as he loses himself in your pussy.

The second time you cum, you haven’t quite stopped with the tears from the first. It’s almost everything you’ve dreamed of. You’ve dreamed of some weird shit, though, so basically it’s everything worth dreaming of.

And again he barely stops. He pulls away, yes, when your walls stop spasming around his tongue and your whining drops to low keens, and he repositions himself to fondle your flesh, to smooth a large hand over the plush of your tits and thumb lazily at a single nipple, and when he kisses you, you taste yourself on his lips. But he isn’t done, and he makes quite clear he isn’t done quite quickly.

Lips trail from yours to your neck, and when you reach down in hopes of finding the truth of his cock, he grabs your wrist and nips at your throat.

You do not bother trying to repress the shudder as his teeth graze you.

He sighs, nearly laughs. “You’re seriously turned on by these?” he asks, pulling away to look you in the eye.

“M-mhm. All of you.” Oh dear. You didn’t think you could get stupider, but somewhere between edges, you must have found a shovel and started digging. Poor you. “But I really like teeth. Used to be so into vampires. Werewolves. Anything with big teeth that could wreck me.” Okay, that’s enough. You can stop talking now.

Oh, thank fuck, he took his turn in the conversation. That was getting bad. “Guess you’re lucky, then.”

“So lucky.” You nod.

Another graze of his teeth, and then again he pulls away. Bastard. Like you haven’t been edged enough these past few weeks, through no fault or decision of your own. “You know I can’t bite you, right? Paralytic venom?”

“Like I can move after what you just did to me anyway?”

He raises an eyebrow. “We’ll think about it.”

“I’ve been thinking about it for a long time.”

“I can tell.” He leaves you there on the bed, a bit limp from the double orgasm action, and removes his own suit, slow and careful. “Lucky for you, I wasn’t done yet. That was just the prep work.”

“Prep?”

Ah. He’s big. Yeah, okay, that makes sense. Maybe you should have trained for this. He climbs right back on top of you, cock weighty where it rests on your stomach, and kisses you slowly. Almost loving, if you hadn’t known any better.

When he presses into you, it’s a stretch, big and sore and dragging out yet another whine from you. He shushes you gently, like this is something you’re supposed to be able to just push through, but he does and you do and when he bottoms out you’re honestly surprised he fits.

“There you go. There’s a good girl. Still doing good?”

No one here is completely sure whether you’re whimpering because his cock is finally inside of you or because of the pet name, but we’ll just say it was overstimulation and call it a day. You manage a nod, which has him arching his brow and holding very carefully still.

“I need a verbal answer, [name].”

“Still… still doing good. You’re good.”

“Okay.”

One slow, careful thrust turns into two turns into three turns into another, and you have to cling to him and claw just to find some sort of purchase before very long at all. By the time you’ve lost count, it’s more because you’ve lost your mind than anything. The overstim-sore gives way to a delicious stretch, and you’re sure you’re babbling something, though you’re pretty sure it’s just his name. That’s all that’s in your head, anyway.

What you know is this: his grip and his pace become bruising, at your enthusiastic pleading, and he fucks you until you don’t remember whether you came once or twice or stopped until he was done. You know that he pulls out, that he cums across your stomach in thick ropes. You know that he cleans you with a warm, damp cloth, tends carefully to the cuts on your thighs where his claws dug just a touch too deep. When you can sit up, you blearily take the kit from him and dab at the bits on his back where you managed to draw blood. Marks of your own left on his skin.

“You did good. Better than I was expecting, honestly.”

“You’re rude,” you shoot back with a sleepy-sounding laugh. “And big. And good.”

You’re not sure the etiquette here. In the light of no longer being mid-fuck, you cringe at the dance that socialization inevitably becomes. He’ll go back to his universe, and leave you here, and probably send Lyla to let you know of new assignments, but what do you do now except begrudgingly accept the chocolate he shoves in your mouth and make sure the cuts on his back are disinfected?

“Sorry about your thighs. That’ll sting for a while,” he says as you’re busily trying to memorize the muscles on his back.

“I’ll be fine. Quick healing and all that. Um…”

“I’ll do some work to figure out the venom thing, if you were serious about wanting me to bite you.”

“Of course I’m serious!” You squeak. “Your damned fangs were at least two of my casualties that started this whole thing!”

“Casualties?”

You fluster, turn away. “Yeah. Casualties.” A brief pause where it sinks in. “Wait. So you want to… do this again…?”

“Was that not clear? You’re a bright spot in the multiverse. If you’d just stop throwing yourself into stupid shit…”

“Don’t kid yourself. I’m already perfect.”

“You are. I’m still not biting you without being absolutely sure I won’t kill you in the process.”

“Aw, that’s half the fun!”

He gives you a sharp look, and you cringe.

“Right. Yeah, I get it. Feel free to surprise me when you figure it out, though.”

He pulls you into his arms, and in his warmth you feel yourself finally relax a little bit.

“I think I’ll take you up on that one.”

Tags: @deeplightgarden @idonthaveanameideayet @dusstory @yohoe-hoe @ambientcryptidsounds @roxannarichie @vegas-writing-den @cooch1ecruncher @bluepeanutharmony @instanttragedyfire @thesilenthill @topreice @rhae-blackqueen

If you'd like to be tagged, shoot me a message or an ask, or ask here in the replies, tags, or reblogs and let me know what you'd like to be tagged in (all works, all works specific to a character, all smut works, etc.). If your name appears on this list but is not underlined and you didn't get a notification, please check to make sure that your blog is NOT set to not appear in search results in your blog settings! If you've got that set that way for a particular reason, consider subscribing to the fic on ao3 for an equivalent update notification, as I always crosspost simultaneously! After three unsuccessful tagging attempts, you will be removed from the list.

As always, thanks for reading! <3

[bi-bard]

Some Part of Me Came Must Have Died the Final Time You Called Me, "Baby" - Joel Miller Imagine [The Last of Us (HBO)]

Title: Some Part of Me Came Must Have Died the Final Time You Called Me, "Baby"

Pairing: Joel Miller X Reader

Based On: First Time

Word Count: 3,231

Warning(s): main character death, violence, injury

Summary: Joel is offered a rare glimpse of hope after the apocalypse had started. However, the universe can pull away signs of hope just as fast it can offer them.

Author's Note: I've changed this song's story about three times... oops.

UNREAL UNEARTH - HOZIER WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST

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

The first time that I met Joel it was because he was being dragged in very suddenly by Tess.

I had just sat down at my dining room table and placed my head and my hands. I was so tired. But then again, so was everyone else. At some point, everyone being tired just means that no one is and this state of being is just considered normal.

Doesn't mean that I had to like it.

I felt like I had done nothing but panic all day. People needed my help. They always did. The problem was that those in charge didn't like that I was trying to help people without taking part in whatever strange structure they had been developing. So, it all had to be done very quietly.

Which was hard to do when people were busting down my door... like Tess did.

She hadn't even tried to knock. She knew that she was less of a guest and more of a regular patient at this point. Instead of knocking, she shoved the door open, allowing it to bang against the wall it was next to.

"Hey, hey, what the hell," I asked. "What'd my wall do?"

"Sorry, not the wall's fault," she replied as she closed the door again. "Just tired of dealing with this hardass."

The man with her grumbled and rolled his eyes.

"Dumbass got his hand cut open," she explained. "Fix him. Please."

"I'm fine," the man muttered.

"The hall you are," she snapped at him.

"Let me look," I said, holding my hands up. I stood up and held out my hand. He glared at it for a few moments before finally letting out a huff and letting me grab his hand. "Oh, that is nasty. Come on. Sit down. I'll stitch it up for you."

He seemed like a toddler as I got him to sit down at my dining room table.

I was cleaning the cut to the best of my ability considering the whole apocalypse thing. I had to fight the urge to chuckle at his quiet grumbling and huffing at the stinging.

"So, Tess, who's hand am I working on," I asked.

"Could ask me," the man replied. "Joel."

"Well, Joel, you didn't seem like the talking kind," I shrugged.

"(Y/n) was a doctor before this whole shitshow," Tess added.

"Almost," I corrected. "Had a couple months left. Probably why I was left alone and not made to find a cure or kill those that were infected."

"And now you just... help people out of kindness?" Joel's tone was gruff. He didn't believe that it was possible for anyone to be kind for the sake of being kind. I didn't blame him. It was hard to believe.

"Believe it or not, darling, not everybody resorts to being awful when the world goes to shit."

I heard a quiet, amused huff escape Tess.

I went back to my work in silence after that.

At some point, Tess said that she had to leave. I was focused, tongue poking out a bit between my teeth. I could feel how closely Joel was watching me, but I did all that I could to ignore it.

Joel was just as I expected: not a conversationalist. He was gruff. His shoulders were tense. His hands were calloused, but most people's hands were these days. His face was hard-set in a scowl. He was clearly a man that had grown skeptical of everyone around him. Probably why it took Tess physically shoving him through the door for him to actually get his hand taken care of.

"Come back in... a week," I instructed. "We'll check out the cut and see what's next."

He nodded, muttering a thank you. It was an awkward thank you. It was as if he had forgotten how to say it. I had to keep myself from chuckling. Something told me that he wouldn't appreciate that.

I never thought that I would see him again.

I was wrong.

It was a few days later that I heard a knock on my door. I furrowed my eyebrows. It had been late. Most people didn't bother coming to me late at night because it was simply too much of a risk. The only people who got themselves hurt that late were the ones who went looking for trouble that late.

Joel was standing on the other side. He looked almost as awkward and tense as he did when he thanked me.

"Joel," I said in greeting. "It hasn't been a week yet, don't tell me that you've already hurt yourself again."

"Uh, no, no," he shook his head. I watched as he went to reach into the bag that he had been carrying on his back. "I was finishing up a job and found some medical stuff. Thought you'd get some use of it."

He held the bag out to me, letting me look down at the stuff that he had.

"Oh, thank you," I replied. "Here, come in."

I stepped to the side. He nodded as he moved around me.

We found ourselves standing at what little counter space I had. I was digging through the bag, pulling out supply after supply. Bandages and medication. Some supplies for cleaning wounds and stitching up cuts. It was a miracle.

I looked down at the collection of stuff I had.

"Listen. I won't ask where you got this stuff," I explained. "But I will say that, darling, you are a miracle."

"I hope that calling me 'darling' isn't gonna stick," Joel muttered.

"Keep bringing me shit like this and I'll call you anything you want."

I heard him scoff, which made me look over at him.

"Thank you, seriously."

He just shrugged me off, ignoring my gratitude. "I'll bring you more when I get my hands on it."

"Deal."

That was the beginning of a great arrangement between the two of us. He would go on his jobs and bring me back medical supplies. I would take care of whatever wounds he and Tess earned while doing so.

I got used to Joel being around. It felt like I was constantly finding him on my doorstep.

As time passed, I found something between us shifting.

It was something in the way we talked. It was like some kind of wall had started to crumble. We were becoming more and more vulnerable. Each revealed secret was a brick being pushed from the wall, leaving each of us with a far clearer image of each other. I liked it.

I found myself being more nervous. My heart beating faster, my thoughts moving even faster, and my face warming whenever I said something that wasn't strictly professional or friendly.

I was constantly convincing myself that I was conflating things. Any lingering looks or touches were simply my imagination running rampant. Any act of kindness was nothing more than Joel finding a way to ensure that something that benefited him was functioning properly.

What else could it have possibly been?

Why would I believe that it was anything else?

Those were two questions that I would constantly ask myself. It was some way of ensuring that whatever feelings I had stayed in control. That my thoughts didn't run wild.

I held onto those two questions until I was forced to let them go.

I was sitting across from Joel at my table yet again. There had apparently been a fight somewhere outside. Joel had won but had gotten a rough hit to the side of the head.

"I'm shocked that you came to me when there wasn't any visible blood," I said quietly as I leaned back in my seat. He seemed fine, thankfully.

"I knew that you'd never let me hear the end of it until you checked it," he muttered.

"Aw, you learn fast, darling."

"I thought you were gonna stop calling me that if I kept bringing you supplies."

"I don't see any supplies," I commented.

He nodded toward his bag, which was sitting on the table.

"Joel...," I mumbled, almost sounding like a disappointed parent. Or like an owner that just watched their cat drag in a dead bird. I opened the bag and found supplies tucked away in the bottom. "The fight... it wasn't over these, was it?"

"Asshole was trying to take the meds-"

"Joel!"

"I didn't have a choice!"

"You could've just given him the drugs instead of getting yourself hurt," I lowered my voice and leaned in a bit closer, trying to not alert anyone around us.

Joel mimicked my movements, "You were almost out-"

"That is my problem to solve."

"Not anymore."

"Why not?"

It was a question that hung in the air between us. It weighed it down, making it tense. Heavy. There was an answer there. Sitting in that space.

Joel went to lean back, clearly going to shrug off the whole event.

I didn't let him. Instead, I leaned forward, pressing my lips to his in the most awkward kiss I had experienced since I was in high school. Regardless of how awkward it was, it felt right. Almost comforting. In a world where proper connection felt impossible, this moment made it seem like the easiest thing in the world.

It was a short-lived moment. A matter of seconds before Joel pulled back. I leaned back too. Any comfort I had found faded away in seconds, now replaced by a kind of fear that I hadn't felt in far too long.

"I'm sorry," I muttered to him. "I shouldn't have done that. I-I'm sorry-"

Joel cut me off by leaning forward and kissing me again. It was as if he had been waiting for me to say that it was alright and after I kissed him, he knew that it was. My hand came up to touch his cheek, thumb dragging along the scruff on his face.

He leaned back. I smiled at him, hand still on his face. I saw the grin forming on his lips.

"I should... I should go," he mumbled.

"You could," I nodded.

"Or... I could stay here a bit longer."

"I like that idea a lot more."

He chuckled at me. "I thought you would."

It felt as if everything changed after that.

Objectively, not much had. Joel was still bringing me medical supplies. He was still having me look over injuries.

But something had still shifted.

It was nice. And weird.

I had gone through so much time on my own. I had shoved myself away from everyone. I had been someone hidden in the background. There when needed, blending in when I wasn't. Joel had largely done the same, hiding from any kind of connection for his own sake. Neither one of us truly knew what to do now that there was all this attention on us.

But we learned. Slowly.

I liked it.

Despite all of the fear, despite all of the life we had both lived through already, there was this kind of innocence that came with whatever we had. It was strange to have to relearn myself. But it was worth it. The highs and the lows of it all.

I think that being with him forced me to let my guard down.

I expected to hate the idea. To always feel that pit in my stomach that came with the fear of never being prepared enough, of nothing being scared enough. But it didn't seem too bad. It was nice, actually.

Every time that I felt the word "darling" pass my lips, the more at peace I felt with myself. With the world around me. Something that I never thought I would experience... or want to experience for that matter.

Maybe that made me a fool. Maybe that made everything that happened that night my fault.

I had no reason to believe that that day was going to be any different from any other before it.

I had woken up next to Joel, which had been happening more and more. I could remember smiling to myself when I did. I had been more comfortable with him than I had throughout most of my past.

We both had gotten up and gone to our respective jobs like it was any other day. He told me that he was going to come back to my place when he was done. I had joked about him making it home before me at sitting at my doorstep like a lost puppy. He chuckled and muttered that he would see me later.

I watched him walk to the door before I stopped him. "Darling..."

He stopped with his hand on the doorknob and looked back at me. "Yeah?"

I paused for a moment before walking over to him. I kissed him gently. "I... I love you."

It had taken me months to get the words out. I had been thinking about it for ages at that point and something about the moment felt right. Nothing in the day had gone wrong yet. There hadn't been any bad news that morning. Everything had simply been quiet and calm. I felt as if I needed to say it then and there.

There was a long pause where Joel just stared at me.

I wanted to apologize. Take it all back and let our day go on as planned.

I didn't get a chance. Before a word could escape me, he replied, "I love you too."

I froze for a moment before a smile formed on my face. I leaned in and kissed him again. When I pulled back, I tugged the door open, causing his hand to fall from the doorknob.

"See you later," I said as I walked out.

"Yeah, see you."

I spent the whole day with a dumb grin on my face. Comforted and safe. It was strange to feel like that while working. It had been one of the only times that my guard had truly come back up all the way now. But I couldn't help it. I had gotten so comfortable with Joel that it made me comfortable with the rest of the world.

It wasn't until I made my way home that anything seemed wrong.

I was walking down the hallway back to my place. As I did, I saw that my door was cracked open. I furrowed my eyebrows, immediately slowing my steps.

I tried to make sure that I hadn't stepped on any squeaky floorboards.

As I got closer, I heard two voices muttering back and forth to each other and the distinct sound of someone rummaging through my stuff.

I should have turned around then. I should've gone to get somebody. I should've done anything other than open the door. But I didn't listen to that intuition. Instead, I slowly opened the door, hoping that it wouldn't creak on its hinges.

I saw two boys rummaging through my stuff. One of them in the kitchen. The other in my dresser.

"What the hell are you doing," I asked.

They both turned around to face me.

"Go ahead, answer me," I pushed, trying to be braver than I was. I was already certain that they were there for the meds that Joel had gotten me, but I wanted them to admit it.

"Grab 'em," the guy at my dresser said.

I took off as the boy at my kitchen cabinets ran toward me. There wasn't much room to move. I was hoping that I could get around and back to the door before he caught up to me.

I wasn't so lucky.

I had made it around to the kitchen counter. However, when I tried to run around again and back to the door, the guy managed to get in front of me. He grabbed me.

I struggled. I did all that I could to get away from him.

I think that scared him. The next thing I knew, there was a knife sinking into my stomach. I gasped.

I had never thought about what something like that would feel like. It was strange. It was sharp. A shooting pain that burned through my body. But some part of me almost felt... numb? As if as soon as the pain started, it stopped.

The boy looked just as shocked as I did. As if he truly didn't believe that he had the ability to hurt someone. I wonder what went through his mind. If it was some promise that he made not to hurt someone or some promise to get better or if he was realizing that all of this pain and suffering was going too far.

His panic caused him to jerk the knife to the side, cutting even further along my stomach before abruptly pulling the blade out.

He stumbled backward as I fell to the floor. I clasped my arms over my stomach, hoping to stop some of what was coming out. I heard his friend yelling at him to go after slamming the dresser shut. I heard something like a stunned 'oh shit' before insisting that they still go.

It was like poetic justice.

Joel walked into the doorway just as the boys shoved their way out. I met his eyes from my place on the floor.

I felt my vision tunneling as Joel's voice echoed in my ears. He was yelling at the boys who were running out.

"Joel..."

My voice came out weak. Weaker than I wanted it to.

It seemed to get his attention though. He would have all the time in the world to track those boys down. I wasn't going to be so fortunate.

He ran over, kneeling next to me. He grabbed the sides of my face, moving my head so I'd look him in the eyes. I tried to lean into his hand, searching for some kind of comfort.

"There you are... look at me," he muttered. "I've got you."

He pulled away from me. He was frantically looking around my now-messy place, looking for where my supplies had been thrown.

When he ran back over, he was holding my box of stuff for stitches. I almost wanted to chuckle. I knew that stitches were not going to work. The cut was too big, too deep. It had simply been too long for them to solve anything.

I found myself just wanting him to look at me again.

I reached up and touched his cheek. "Darling..."

He shushed me quietly. "I... I'm gonna... I'm gonna fix this. You're gonna be just fine, alright? Just fine."

I didn't respond. I simply dragged my thumb along his cheek before I pulled my hand away again.

I found my vision growing even darker than it had before. I let my eyes flutter closed. It was strange, being so aware of my death. I always thought that I'd be overcome by shock. Or that I'd go in my sleep. Anything that didn't force me to face the presence of death directly.

And in the end, I never found myself minding how death loomed over my shoulder the entire time. I was focused on Joel. Having him there, getting to touch him... getting to call him "darling" one last time.

If I could find one thing about death to remember in whatever afterlife I found myself in, I would like it to be that I was loved.

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

Navigation Guide

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[y-rhywbeth2]

hi! I've been really enjoying your blog. D&D lore is such a tangled mess (so fun to figure out though) and it's a treat to read your breakdowns of anything and everything Forgotten Realms!

I'm sending this ask because I saw a mention of Bhaalist "red rooms" in one of your posts, in which Bhaalists would murder (mostly criminals) as a spectacle for Undercellar visitors. I would love to read more about this, but google and the Forgotten Realms wiki are both being unhelpful. Would you mind sharing which campaign setting/sourcebook/whatever you learned about this practice from, so I can check that out? Thanks!

This would be from the time honoured tradition of asking Ed Greenwood for lore that didn't get into the sourcebooks because TSR and then WotC didn't want to spend page space on: either because it's 'too trivial' (which is just incorrect, there is nothing too trivial - 'Nobody needs to know about the dye industry on Toril.' Well I do! And I desperately need to know how the nightmares that are Sharran and Banite weddings and marriages)) or because they were still skittish about the Satanic Panic (too edgy, too much sex, too whatever; you'll upset the parents. Can't include too much detail on religious practices, taboos and rituals and stuff; you might offend the religious conservatives. etc).

In this case it was mentioned in response to somebody on twitter asking about the viability of Dead Three cultists established in Waterdeep's Sewers.

Either none of my machines like the site, or else it's been fucked to high hell by whatever current management is doing with it, but I can't really use the thing; I can link to a site that does collect these kinds of Q&As though which has it: How viable would it be for an evil cult (Bhaal, Bane, or Myrkul) to set up a shrine/temple in the Waterdeep sewers? (sageadvice.eu)

'[Setting up in the sewers is] not viable at all, considering the city inspectors, the Xanathar agents creeping around, and the gleaners (poor citizens trying to literally dredge and scrape a living from the sewer flows). However, it’s VERY viable for cults to set up just a teensy bit higher, in the CELLARS of city buildings. Many cults are already established in such places, and in “upper rooms” of city buildings, too, which has given rise to the local phrase “whispers in upper rooms” and “upper room whisperers” (where in the modern real-world we would speak of “back room dealings”). 'As for inducements offered to recruits: [...] 'Bhaal: to join a cool, secretive masked by-night fellowship that captures select people and “rightfully” murders them in on-altar rituals to the god (so, the slayings are not a crime, and the cult works to protect you from arrest by the Watch and any consequences of the killings). As a joining member, you get to name one candidate the cult will kill (i.e. someone you hate or owe coin to).'

And the other link between that and targeting criminals ('rightful' murder) comes from Elminster's Forgotten Realms:

'Adventurers far from home are godsend targets [for Bhaalist murders], as are outlaws or brigands; few care if such folk meet a bloody doom.'

For anybody curious about the other two who don't want to/can't click the link:

Baneites appeal to people who are upset at the corruption of the rich and the nobility (the Masked Lords, in Waterdeep's case) and plan to pull out the guillotine and 'exterminate' them and then replace them with their glorious regime where the city will be ruled properly and their wealth given to the deserving.

And Myrkul just picks up the edgy resentful goths who want to play with corpses, feel powerful and/or get back at their bullies/people who won't date them/etc.

[pacifymebby]

t r o u b l e / chapter thirty five

Isaiah

I sat beside Bonnie on a deep red leather sofa in Tommy's office. The younger lad didn't exactly look uncomfortable to be here but I could tell he wasn't so used to long afternoons of knitted brows and Arthur Shelby's fucking pacing. I wondered if he knew the extent to which the trouble Tommy had called us in to discuss really stretched. The roots to which the rot had already penetrated.

When he'd first called everyone in for a debrief the office had been packed. Everyone had answered his middle of the night call to arms, his brothers and his right hand men, the travellers who had arrived in a steady flow throughout the night until there were caravans and trucks littering the lane like a steady flowing river all the way up the road to arrow house. Everyone had stacked into the office to listen to him. The bringer of bad news. He'd talked of the vendetta, the war about to waged not only upon his family but any family honest enough to honour their bond with the Shelby's.

I'd stood behind my father in his chair and listened to grave retelling of the hit on Arthur and John. I'd seen the photographs taken of Michael in his barely alive condition. I'd swallowed a lump when Polly had teared up, when she'd had to lean on Arthur to hold herself up straight. I'd stood by and listened as Tommy doled out orders to each and every man. No one left unaccounted for. No one without a role to play. I'd nodded to my father when Tommy had patted him on the shoulder, shown him the sign of the cross and sent him away. I'd watched everyone else leave until only myself and Bonnie Gold remained.

"Sit down lads," said Tommy, "make yourselves at home it's gonna be a long night." He'd met my gaze with a quiet look of confirmation, as if to tell me 'I know what you're thinking and you're right.'

I knew what was coming next. Knew enough about the wayward Fens who had all but abandoned the family and rejected the name Shelby. All but forgotten their darker roots. The Fens who went by the name Gray these days and who spent their lives wrapped up in luxury, all grace and class.

I'd known then just what it was he had in mind for us. Not Bonnie though, he was sitting there, quite comfortably, one arm outstretched along the back of the sofa, taking in his surroundings with that quiet smirk he so often seemed to wear. We'd always gotten along, me and Bonnie, but I'd always known we were cut from a completely different cloth. "As you know I'm bringing the whole family in until I've deciphered exactly what and who is threatening us, the Changrettas and Z

Sabinis have declared war on me and my blood and until we know exactly how to fight it i want everyone who may be at risk right where I can see them... Now, Arthur's gone to fetch Ada and the kid back up from London, and when she gets here I'm sure she'll give me hell for dragging her back, but I'm not really worried about Ada. She's a sensible lass and she knows the risks that come with the Shelby name, she's seen enough shit to take all this seriously and she won't want any harm to come to little Karl so I expect that once she's said her piece she'll toe the line..." When he paused he took a sip of whiskey and he smirked.

"But, the same cannot be said for my other little sisters.." He sighed and I couldn't help but chuckle as he poured a glass for me and one for Bonnie.

"Why do I get the feeling whatever you're about to ask us is gonna require more than a sip of whiskey Mr Shelby..." Smirked Bonnie, his cheeky smile not quite matching up to the grey trouble in his eyes. He wasn't naive.

"Drink up soldier." I said with a dry smirk which did little to ease the tension rising in the room.

The Fens didn't have a lot to do with their brothers or the family in general, I'd grown up in the bossom of the Shelby's, half raised by Aunt Polly myself and still only seen those girls a handful of times. The last of those times being when little Sonya and Sylvia Shelby were 11 years old in ballet frocks, still small enough that they could sit one on each of John's hips, their hair in little french plaits, still so similar you couldn't tell who was who.

I'd seen them since of course, it wasn't as if they'd been forgotten about by their family and their Aunt Pol was so proud of them that whenever a new video, a new photograph emerged online of them on the stage she'd make sure everyone saw it at least ten times. They cropped up in the Rags often enough too, the primadonnas with mafia ties, dainty little socialites with all their sophisticated talents, whose money came from drugs, murder and all kinds of corruption. If one of us ever made an appearance in court, if one of us ever got caught up in another violent clash, if we were photographed leaving a notorious club in the wrong end of town, you could almost guarantee that some lowlife pap had done their best to get a photo of the delicate ballerinas in distress somewhere outside their school or the theatres.

As they'd gotten older they'd done their best to distance yourself, but how far can you ever really get from the Shelby shadow. And they were, after all, their brothers sisters. As children they'd been tearaways and if there was one thing I'd learned knowing Ada as well as I did, it was that the wildness is never quite tamed. The Shelby curse never skips a generation.

No, I might not have known them so well, but I knew enough to know that Bonnie was right. If Tommy was about to ask us to guard his little sister's, I was gonna need more than a swig of whiskey to temper me through the trouble they would cause.

"Isaiah, you'll remember the Fens," said Tommy, "so I'm sure you can answer our lads questions eh?" He was smirking and I could tell he was holding back not for my sake but for Bonnie's. "No," he said then, cracking a wider grin, "no, Sonya's quite tame, emotional but tame," he said but the look in his eyes told us both he wasn't finished. "To be quite candid with you boys I haven't spoken to my little sisters for a long time, and perhaps I don't know them quite as well as I would like to now but, they made it very clear a long time ago that that was the way it was to be. They won't want to come home, in fact I should imagine this house is the last place they'd think to call home these days, sorry as that seems," I knew he'd added that for Bonnie's benefit, because Bonnie's family were tight, because he'd been raised much like Tommy, to value family above all else. "But circumstances have changed and so home they must come... And when they get here they're under your care, I want you to stick to them like glue, never a second out of your sight. It's like I said, I don't know them half as well as I should and so, I can't trust them half as much as I would like... I don't know that they'll listen to us or believe us when we tell them of the threats hanging over their heads, we've always done our best to keep them out of the family business and so, as much as I'm sure they'd like to believe they understand what we do, they don't. They don't know anything, don't understand the dangers... They're far more vulnerable than I'd like to believe, a mistake of my own making I'm sure, and I'm not gonna be around all the time to keep them safe. Can't guarantee my brother's will be here either. That's why I need you two to keep and eye on them... More than that I need you to look after them like you would your own sisters."

"Course Tommy," I said, nodding, saving my words because the gravity of the situation was looming and I could see the devotion in his eyes. There was a fear there he didn't often show, a grave shadow in his eyes.

"I know they haven't been around for a long time, don't even call themselves Shelby anymore, but theyre still family and they're fucking precious, so you keep them safe... No matter what happens that's you're priority from here on out, don't give a fuck what you have to risk for them, don't give a fuck if you put your own life on the line... Those girls come first alright?"

"Understood Mr Shelby." Nodded Bonnie, a grave look in his own eyes now as he watched the floor, slight downward turn of his head, thoughtful. We looked the same then, with our caps shadowing our eyes. The two of us taking it in, bearing the weight cast upon our shoulders.

"Now there's another matter too, should the worst happen..."

"Ain't gonna happen Tom..." I started, teeth gritted because I recognised the doom in his voice.

"Should the worst happen..." He reiterated, "and we lose this war, if someone gets a hit on me or any of my brothers, if you can see the dominoes begin to fall..."

Bonnie had had his hand in his pocket until now but as Tommy's tone took a darker tone his hand wandered and his fingers stroked his chin and then the back of his neck. He had a faraway look in his eyes and I wondered what depressive imagery was shadowing his mind in that moment. Forced myself not to think about it, knew I couldn't afford to let those kinds of thoughts in.

"If me and my brothers fall I want you to get those girls as far away from here as you can... You make sure they live and you keep your duty to this family, to me, for as long as they live..." If I'd had any doubt in my mind about Tommy's ability to survive anything then it would have been an unreasonable request. But I didn't. So I didn't pay it any mind. Just nodded my head and swore on my life without a second thought. Telling myself it wouldn't matter anyway. Because the war wouldn't last more than a week or two. Because we would come out on top the way we always did.

"It won't come to it Tommy," I said, "but you have my word."

"And mine," said Bonnie a moment later before he rested his chin in the L of his thumbs, hands pressed palm to palm as if in prayer. And perhaps that's what he was doing. I knew I had the urge to return to my father's church and kneel at the alter in that moment. Ask someone to watch over us. Because Tommy hadn't told us the half of it and I knew it. The love which ran deep for those girls. He probably never would express the true extent of the depth to which he cherished them, vulnerable as that would make him. But I knew it because I'd heard the stories and I saw the truth of them now in his eyes when he spoke of them. How the twins had been with their mother the morning she'd passed. How they'd been the last to see her living. How they'd been carried home by their Uncle Charlie, too young to understand what they'd seen. How the brothers would never say it, but always saw their mother in them. As if they were the last connection to her, as if they carried her weathered wild soul with them now. I knew that when Tommy told us we were to die for them if we had to, he was telling us he would die for them too. Knew that if he could he would in a heartbeat. I looked to my left, to Bonnie with his troubled water expression and his bottom lip trapped between his teeth as he gazed, taciturn, at the legs of Tommy's desk. I wondered how much of those stories he had heard over the years. Wondered whether he knew the weight he now carried on his back. "Now, Bonnie, I've decided you're to take care of Sonya and Isaiah you'll have Sylvia... I don't expect they'll be particularly charmed by this arrangement, but you're canny lads... I'm sure you'll manage.."

And for a moment I'd thought he was finished. He said goodnight to Bonnie, gave him one final piece of advice - told him the girls had forgotten their gypsy roots, told him it might do Sonya good to remember - and then he'd sent him on his way. Told him to rest up, he'd need it.

I'd expected him to say the same to me but he didn't. Instead he had kept me behind a little longer. "Forgive me for sparing the lad the gory details," he nodded to the door Bonnie had just left through, "but I didn't think it'd do any good to worry him... You however, you already know the twins..."

"Hardly Tommy, last time I saw em they were this tall..." I said with a smirk, trying to chuckle though it was hard to conjor amusement.

"So just as well as the rest of us then," he smirked along, "all the same Isaiah, there's rumours going round London about our girls and I don't yet know the truth of em, however the Fens have their mother in their blood so I wouldn't be surprised to learn there's some truth in them..."

"Can't be that bad surely, what trouble can you cause at ballet school eh?" I wasn't sure I should be joking but my uneasy grin was the best I could manage in that moment when I didn't know the severity of their situation.

"I'd hate to think we underestimate them."

"So, lay it on me then, I'll brace myself..."

"Rumours going round that my baby sister Sonya's been in bed with the enemy..." I couldn't hide the surprise from my eyes then, looking back at him with raised brows, trying not to wear my nervous smirk.

"Sonya?" I asked, "fuckin an Italian?" "Freddie Sabini to be exact..." Said Tommy, sucking his cheek in before pouring another drink. "Theres talk of Sylvia getting herself into trouble too, but those rumours are far more vague..." It was the way he shook his head that concerned me, the memory of the girl I'd once known that left a bad taste in my mouth.

The way I remembered them Sylvia had always been the softer girl, a little quieter, a little more pensive, wild like a Shelby with the woodlands in her soul for certain, but frail. Sonya had always been more starlet, more optimistic. There'd always been something melancholy about her sister.

"Our men in London tell me she looks sick, tell me she spends all hours of the night out in Solomons' territory. Course she's safe there, but I don't like the thought of it..."

"Naturally." I swallowed, tried to imagine what those men might mean when they said "sick." "What kind of sick Tommy?" I asked though I'd seen her on Instagram and I already knew the answer.

"Thin," he shrugged, "a real cliche of her genre I suppose."

"And she's spending her nights in Camden Town?" I had a feeling I knew what that meant too. "Could be drugs," said Tommy, "not that I think Alfie's stupid enough to sell to her... She was always a canny lass, sure she could exploit a weakness or two to get what she wants..."

"Think so?" I asked swallowing another gulp of whiskey, letting it warm and burn, trying to remain still and composed despite the thought of the girl I'd always had a soft spot for succumbing to the same darkness which took her mother all those years ago.

"I'd like to hope not but you know me..." "Aye," I nodded, "I know you Tommy." I said before standing up, placing my empty glass on the desk in front of him. "I'll look after Tommy, keep her safe... Didn't need to ask me, I'd have died for those girls in a heartbeat anyway."

"Aye," he nodded, "you're a good lad Isaiah."

She looked ever so tired then as she drifted down the hallway ahead of me. All day Sylvie had me treading eggshells, her volatile streak sharper than I'd expected. She was more wild now than I could ever remember her having been before. When she was much younger, though she still looked too young now. In fact just then as she slipped past Alfie carrying her ballet slippers strung from her feeble wrist, she looked painfully young. Too young to have pulled off any of the stunts she had.

Seeing her like that only sparked my loathing for the man who stood before me all the more. Seeing her appear suddenly paled and vulnerable. Suddenly frail where she hadn't been even just five minutes before.

When she was dancing she was ethereal, some unearthly creature, her beauty uncanny as she spun slowly on the spot, tiny body contorted in ways she didn't really look strong enough to hold. But she must have been, because she had held that dainty pose with such grace. Until he'd scared her and sent her tumbling to the floor, her caving in beautiful despite the fear which shot through me at seeing her waver and fall.

So when I fixed Alfie with that cold, unforgiving glare I meant the threat with which I spoke. Wanted him to know how much I hated him in that moment.

I'd have taken his eyes just for looking at her, the smirk on his lips as he watched her drift down the hallway enough to make me consider killing him there and then.

"You wanna look after her mate..." He said nodding to her flickering shadow as she disappeared round the corner, "looks exhausted if you ask me..."

I narrowed my eyes at him, shook my head with a bitter smirk.

"Fuck off." I said before turning away, following Sylvia back to our room with my hands I'm my pockets and my shirt slung over my shoulder.

I heard his chuckle echo down the hall, knew I was supposed to feel like it was following me. Knew it was supposed to haunt me, send a little shiver down my spine. But I wasn't scared of Alfie Solomons. Not when I knew we were playing the same game for the same side. Alfie wouldn't harm a hair on Sylvia's head, wouldn't harm me as long as I was there to protect her. He wasn't half as insane as he wanted people to believe, he wouldn't start a war he couldn't win. Not if he didn't need to. And not over a teenage ballerina.

When I opened the bedroom door I saw her already lying on the bed, eyes fluttered shut. She'd changed into a black t-shirt and a pair of woollen socks which had slid down her shins and bunched up around her ankles. She wasn't sleeping but when I closed the door behind me and crossed the room to sit in the chair by the door she didn't stir.

She looked peaceful but I knew it wasn't peace which held her so still now. She was tired. To the bone tired. Lying on her front, the t-shirt which covered her hardly covering her at all. She'd not bothered to pull the covers over her and I could see the goosebumps on her thighs.

I remained quiet, lent into the back of the chair to try and get comfortable. Rested my arms on the arms and tilted my head back against the wall. Closed my eyes for a moment but only as long as that. Opened them again when I changed my mind, decided I couldn't take my eyes off her just yet.

So I stole another glance at her soft silhouette, admired the way her edges seemed to fade into the sheets, the way the lamplight glowed on her skin.

And then she stirred, pushed herself up slowly, lethargically turning her head to look back at me from across the room.

"What?" I asked with a smirk when her sleepy eyes locked with mine, she looked so expectant, a little confused. For a moment I couldn't work out why.

"I thought you were tired?" She frowned.

"I'm fine," I shrugged though it was obviously a lie. I was exhausted. Not so much physically - though my muscles ached and my head was undeniably heavy - but emotionally, mentally. She'd put me through the fucking wringer over the last 24 hours and I felt absolutely wired. Head static electric buzzing in a way I knew meant that even if I did shut my eyes and try to sleep, I wouldn't get any rest.

I'd been hoping to burn some of that adrenaline off in the gym earlier but any pent up frustration I'd managed to unleash had quickly been worked up all over again by her. The sight of her teetering so delicately, the realisation of her fragility when Solomons had knocked her balance, fucking Solomons himself and his relentless little jabs. It was taking all my self control not to leather him, to let his comments wash over me, water off a ducks back. Not that I was letting them wash over me. I'd never been very good at letting things go, always a little too quick to rise to a fight, always holding grudges and resentments. And my resentment for Alfie was building by the second. I was holding myself together for Sylvie's sake. Doing as I knew Tommy would tell me - staying calm, rising above the old man's petty jabs - because if I didn't it would be Tommy I had to answer to when shit hit the fan.

If I lost my temper and Sylvia suffered for it, there'd be no forgiveness spared for me.

"I'm fine," I said again when she fixed me with a smirk. "I'm watching the door."

"Bullshit." She coughed, the tinkle of laughter in her voice catching me out.

"Doin my job sweetheart..." I said gritting my teeth, trying not to let her wind me up. It was difficult, she really had a way of winding me up.

"You're falling asleep." She said, her voice deadpan as she let herself fall back down against the pillow, her voice a little muffled by the sheets when she called out to me. "Come on Saiah, share the bed, don't be a pussy..."

Her tone was mischievous, and the sweet sleepy way she had looked at me from the pillow made it so hard to remain frustrated with her. Even when I could tell she was trying to push my buttons.

"Not gonna be much of a bodyguard if you don't get some sleep," she said then, her voice a soft sigh as she yawned and nestled into the bed a little more. I heard the shifting of cotton over cotton and when I opened my eyes and looked back at her I saw that she'd rolled over. That her t-shirt had ridden up and gathered at her hip. That she was looking straight at me with dusky glowing eyes, her dark curls slipped from behind her ear. Her cheek was resting on her hand and her body looked lazy and soft.

I wasn't exactly sure how much sleep I was going to get either way. Lying beside her or watching over her from the armchair in the corner of the room.

It wasn't her teasing however that made me give in to her. It was something else. Something fleeting, something I only really thought I saw. A flicker of doubt in her eyes. A flicker of trouble which reminded me of the Sylvia I knew when she was young, when she was little Fen Shelby running riot through small heath with her sister. When she'd been the twin who shied away, the twin who hesitated. The twin who often looked to me with worried brown eyes when her older brothers would lower their voices and suddenly start speaking in lower tones.

For a moment she looked scared.

Scared and young and so very very tired.

She looked like she needed me to give in, lie down beside her, yawn and drift off like drifting off was easy. So she could kid herself that drifting off was easy.

So I did just that. I stood with a sigh and i gave in.

I crossed the room quietly and kicked my shoes off, sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled my t-shirt off. And when I twisted to reach over her for the duvet I met her gaze again and saw that the Sylvia I knew had gone again. That all her doubt had disappeared, been replaced with that cold smirk, a different kind of trouble glowing in her eyes.

"Don't worry," she said, "I won't tell Tommy..."

And because we were suddenly in such close proximity, and because I was tired and my head was absolutely wired, those words were enough to throw me for a second. Enough to leave me frozen, looking down at her with a small frown on my brow. Enough to remind me how quietly surprised I'd been the morning she'd sat down in the garden, her cheeks angry and flushed. How even with the vitriol in her voice when she'd snapped at me, her prettiness had struck me. How I'd seen her then in a light I'd never seen her before. How I'd been reminded that whilst I'd grown up she had too. Wasn't just Tommy's little sister anymore. Was her own woman, somehow all the more defiant than she ever had been before. We'd always called her Trouble when she was a little girl, because both the twins had been just that. But now she was something more. Trouble in its most tantalising form, a trouble that was irresistible and infuriating in equal measure.

And she was lying there on her back, looking up at me with silent laughter in her eyes. Teasing me.

By the time my brain caught up with the rest of us she was already smirking at me. My silence more amusing to her than anything I could say.

"Why not love? He's already gonna kill me..." I said, propped up on my elbow, watching as she rolled her eyes and told me not to be so dramatic.

"I'm still alive aren't I?" She said nonchalantly, rolling over and nestling into the pillow, drifting off within seconds. Leaving me to fall down beside her, to try not to think about how close to her I was. To try not to dwell too much on our conversation. The murderous thoughts her brother almost definitely held me in for getting her this far.

Because as much as I believed by now that Sylvia would have torn away without me and probably could have gotten this far by herself, I couldn't deny that I'd helped. I'd killed a man for her, stolen a car for her, walked her right into Solomons office and stood by whilst he threatened us both. I'd already made a hundred decisions Tommy would have crucified me for. And whatever happened to us now, it was my fault. In Tommy's eyes his little sister's fate was entirely in my hands.

And as much as she put the fear of god in me with her unpredictable temper, that burning indignant streak, I knew she wasn't like us. Knew she hadn't been raised amid the violence, didn't really know the horrors the rest of us had seen. Because if she had she wouldn't have wanted to see Michael. If she had she wouldn't have left the safety of arrow house.

It was knowing that which made me certain I'd done the right thing in helping her. She'd have tried it without me and she'd have gotten far enough to kill herself. She might not have wanted it, or thought she needed it - or perhaps she did know and that was the root of her cruel streak - but she did need it. My protection that is. Or at least someone who knew her well enough to keep her safe from herself, the Shelby in her.

Looking down at her as she slept then, the sweetness which glowed all innocent on her somnolent expression, I was growing more convinced that perhaps now, after the last 24 hours, I was the only person who really knew her at all. And I didn't really feel like I knew her.

So despite the ache in my muscles and the exhaustion I felt permeating my whole body, my mind too, I couldn't sleep. Not properly.

Couldn't drift off and succumb to my exhaustion the way I realise now Sylvia had been hoping I would.

I couldn't tell how long I'd been lying there waiting for sleep to take me when she stirred. Only that the streets were still dark and the moon through the window still cast her in an ethereal glow. Only that I was still exhausted and the long wait for sleep had done little to calm my temper or my nerves. So when she tried to slip away from the bed instinct kicked in and before she could move I'd thrown an arm around her, dragged her beneath me and rolled on top of her, her hands pinned above her head. My nose brushing hers, eyes flaring unforgiving into her wide dear in the headlight eyes.

But her innocence was feigned and the second she tried to struggle against me and slip away, the second she realised there was no way in hell she could fight me off, her eyes narrowed and her venom took over.

"Get the fuck off me peaky boy..." She snarled, her wicked little smirk and the mischievous light in her eye sparking my temper.

"Are you fucking insane?" I whispered, struggling to swallow down my anger. My heart was racing, adrenaline coursing through my veins. I knew exactly what she had thought she was going to do and the hatred she had sparked in me then, the resentment made it difficult for me to control myself. "Sneaking off to see Michael? That where you think you're going? Are you fucking stupid?"

"I wouldn't have to sneak if you weren't so up my brothers arse!" She shot back, narrowing her eyes, trying to get under my skin. But I wasn't going to let her take shots at me when in trying to sneak out she'd proven just how naive she really was.

"You might have a bloody death wish Sylvia but I don't want your fuckin blood on my hands." I could feel myself shaking, my fingers wrapped round her wrists too tightly, the weight of my body on top of hers too much. But I was angry, and the girl needed scaring. That much was obvious when she rolled her eyes at me again.

"Solomons is hardly gonna kill me is he." She said, her voice drawling and bored. As if I was over reacting.

"Far worse our enemies would do to you if they got their hands on you sweetheart!" I said fixing her with an unforgiving stare. Her eyes locked with mine. An understanding flickering in them for a second before she tried to glaze over again. Tried to pretend my words hadn't reminded her of something she didn't want to remember.

"You can't stop me seeing him," she said, her whisper still so determined, there was something there though now, something which almost sounded like a real emotion, only served to piss me off more, "I'm not a fuckin child, a few cuts and bruises don't scare me..."

I had to bite back a laugh then. It was spiteful, mirrored the venom she was spitting at me. Might even have wounded her if she'd cared anything for me.

"They left your cousin for dead sweetheart, maybe you should fuckin see him eh, maybe you'd rekindle a bit of respect for the sanctity of life!"

She didn't try to hold her laughter back. Her giggle melodic but cutting. She didn't need to say anything to leave me swallowing down the urge to say something cruel, but she did.

"Have you heard yourself?" She sneered.

"You wouldn't even recognise him Sylvia, it was a thousand times worse than anything you've seen at ballet class."

"Don't patronise me Isaiah."

"Don't be so fuckin stupid then." I hissed back, forcing her back down into the mattress when she struggled again. Her leg squirming under mine because she was trying to kick me. "And if you ain't stupid you're fuckin selfish..."

She held my gaze, unflinching. Her glare cold. Perhaps more unforgiving than my own.

Beneath me she felt so small. I had to force the image of her trembling frame down, has to force myself to forget her dainty form as she had spun slowly, teetering on one leg, ethereal and delicate in the middle of the gym. Had to force myself to forget how sweet she'd been as a younger girl, how sweet I was determined to believe she still was. If I let myself believe she was anything but a liability, a threat which needed to be neutralised somehow, I'd let her do something stupid and we'd both wind up dead.

With my chest pressed to hers I could feel her heart racing against mine. Could feel the tremble of her body, something she didn't want me to feel. I knew I was getting to her even if it didn't look like it. Even if she had that dead behind the eyes kind of Shelby cool to her.

"If the Changrettas get a hold of you, anyone gets hold of you sweetheart, they won't fuckin kill you, won't be worth very much when you're dead... Know what they will do though? They'll chop you up piece by fuckin piece to get to your brothers, you'll break Pols fuckin heart, and Esme and Ada. How many fingers and toes do you think you can lose before you start missing em eh Syl?" I asked gripping her wrist a little tighter than before, raising it to make a point, forcing her to look at her forearm, "think you'll still be dancing swan lake when some Sabini cunts taken a fuckin cleaver to your elbow?" She didn't say a word, just kept glaring back at me, determined not to let me scare her, but I was determined to do just that, determined to try and drive the point home. "Ain't a single fuckin Shelby wouldn't lay their life down for you so you might think about being a bit more fuckin careful with yours eh?"

She held my gaze but she didn't say a word and when she stopped struggling, stopped smirking, stopped speaking back, we simply stayed there, caught in a frozen moment. An unforgiving moment in which the two of shook subtly, me with rage and her with a spiteful determination.

"Trust me sweetheart death is not the worst thing...."

Her lips were pressed together and pouting, my body hovering above her held her sullen features in shadow. I could feel her breath on my skin and knew she could feel my breathing too. My nose skimmed hers as I thought about trying to explain myself again but in the end I didn't.

When she didn't say a word more I gave up. Rolled off her but kept a hold of her wrist. She didn't try to move though. Just lay there completely still. Eyes open, starring up at the ceiling. Her silence leaving me to wonder what she was thinking. Because the look on her face was glazed and cold, dead behind the eyes.

"Go back to fuckin sleep." I grumbled, my sigh accompanied by my hand to my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose as I despaired. Already the guilt was prickling away at me, already the shame of having used that quiet kind of violence to stifle her, was sitting heavy in the pit of my stomach. But there wasn't a single thing I'd said to her that wasn't true. I might have been cruel to detail, but I hadn't lied or exaggerated. I'd simply told her the truth her brothers wouldn't. A truth she needed to understand if she was going to cut around pretending she already knew it all.

I lay on my back for awhile just listening. Stewing. Trying not to let her piss me off anymore than she already had. Trying not to let the guilt tug away at my heart strings. Trying to remind myself why I'd behaved as I had. So violently, so unforgiving.

Tried to remind myself it probably didn't matter. She hadn't given up because she was scared, she'd given up because she knew it wasn't reasonable or worth it to keep fighting me. She'd realised that in that moment trapped beneath me she couldn't win. That was all.

If I let go of her wrist she'd probably try again.

If I fell asleep before the sun began to rise she'd probably try again.

But in the end I did fall asleep. To the sound of her faint breathing and the city outside, London's halfhearted dawn chorus. Birds chattering and cooing, cars starting up, traffic sounds. The first footfalls along the pavement. Somewhere amid the rest of the worlds waking up I drifted off and when I awoke once more it was to an otherwise empty bed. A sinking feeling in my stomach. Not quite able to feel let down because I'd known all along that she'd leave me.

I let my hand rest in the space she'd occupied only hours before, flexed my fingers and groaned as I dragged my palm down my face and squeezed my eyes shut.

"Fuck." I hissed through gritted teeth.

I couldn't have slept for very long, an hour or two at best. I had that sluggish kind of sting in my eyes and my throat, that clinging lethargy. The rest had only served to highlight the extent of my exhaustion.

"For fuck sake..." I groaned as I pushed myself up and out of the bed. My heart had already started racing again, I wasn't going to panic about the situation but I was certainly feeling uneasy. Certainly already racing through the options in my head. Which way she'd have gone, how she'd have left. How she might have tried to get to the hospital.

She wasn't stupid enough to walk it, but then if she'd had no other choice. I could only pray she hadn't been naive enough to hail a cab in this end of town.

But as my feet hit the bedroom floor and I let out another sigh of despair I heard something which stopped me in my tracks. That fae like laugh, it drifted to me from the corner of the room.

And when I opened my eyes properly I felt a rush of shame at the way my heart lifted - not just with relief but with something else too.

Because she hadn't left. She hadn't really gone anywhere at all.

"What's the matter Saiah, bad dreams?" She smirked at me from where she was sitting curled up in the arm chair. Her legs dangling over the arm, one ankle crossed over the other, her feet and toes taut and pointed.

She held my gaze, her eyes bright and smug. She could see the panic Id been trying to swallow down and she would be more than happy to use it against me if I let her.

I didn't say a word, just fixed her with the same cold glare I had in the middle of the night. My lips pressed together, hands gripping the edge of the bed to steady myself. Because I wanted to snap at her again. Wanted to say something cruel, take all of my frustration out on her. Because even after everything Id told her last night, she still had the look of a little girl playing games. In fact now there was something spiteful in her eyes and I had a feeling I'd poked the bear. Had a feeling I'd made things a little harder for myself once again.

"Surprised to see you here." I said nodding to the window, "didn't fancy pulling a cat woman then?"

"You told me not to remember?" She said, forcing a pout, managing to hold her wounded look for two seconds before the sorry glow in her eyes was replaced once again by that dull antagonising smirk.

"Give over sweetheart." I said standing up properly, pulling my shirt on and walking to the window to look out over the rooftops and down into the courtyard where there was a young lad sitting on a bench with a cigarette. He looked up when my shadow caught his eye, confirming my suspicions. "Solomons is having us watched..."

"Obviously." She said.

She looked pissed off and when the penny dropped I couldn't help but chuckle.

"That why you're still here?" I asked, unable to help myself poke at her wounded pride, "didn't fancy trying to sneak out after all?" I grinned looking between her and the view from the window. It was just one lad and his dog and I couldn't imagine that would be enough to perturb her after everything she'd already dragged me through.

"Told you why I'm still here dickhead," she sighed slipping from the chair to the rug, crossing the floor to stand just in front of me, arms folded over her chest as she looked up at me sullenly. Her lips a downward curve. Something uncannily sweet about her now that she was stood so close to me. "If I'd wanted to go I'd be gone." She said so plainly that I knew once again it was true.

I thought about meeting her with the same fleeting honesty, a moment of genuine understanding. Thought about apologising for the way id pinned her down in the middle of the night, whispered all those evil images to her to try and frighten her into place. But then I remembered just how quickly she had turned on me before, just how quickly that glazed look in her eyes could take over. How swift the feeling was to drain from her. So I just sneered and pinched her cheek, something I'd regret much later.

"Oh Sylvie," I smirked, not needing to say anything else to upset her or rile her up. Only having to wink and turn away from her to leave her standing there with a quiet angry flush about her. Could feel her glare burning into the back of my skull.

Perhaps if I'd have realised what was waiting for us downstairs I'd have done more to keep her close to me. Perhaps if I'd been a better man I'd have realised that for the briefest of moments I'd seen the old Sylvia trying to drag herself back from the hollow place her mind had locked her away. Perhaps if I'd have reached out to her then, understood that we were on each others team, I'd have been able to keep her close enough to save her.

But I wasn't the better man. I was foolish, with a wounded ego, too easily scorned by her. So when we went downstairs and met Alfie in the kitchen, his feet kicked up on the table, lips wearing a smug little smirk, I didn't put up enough of a fight.

"Morning Alfie." I started already trying to hold onto my patience, already trying to anticipate the shower of shite he was about to start talking.

He didn't say it back, didn't even really look at me.

He was lounging on the sofa which stood in the bay of the window, the morning sunlight washing over him, catching the ginger flecks in his hair. He didn't look much like the suited gangsters I was used to, but then Alfie often didn't. In his white tshirt and a pair of black jeans, Cyril lazing on the sofa with his head in Alfie's lap. He didn't look dangerous and when I turned to glance at Sylvia I felt a disquiet stir inside me, because there was something a little too trusting in her eyes when she looked at him. If not trusting, something worse - wanting.

"I've been ruminating," he began, his fingers combing through Cyrils fur, giving him a gentle scratch as he spoke, "you know what that means lad?" He raised his brow at me. I didn't say anything because I didn't have anything nice to say. "Nah, well, never mind never mind, it's a big word ain't it, Ollie!" He called out suddenly, "Ollie my boy get in here would you!"

I turned slightly to look over my shoulder at the kitchen doorway, catching Sylvia's eyes as I turned. But when she met my gaze she looked straight through me.

A moment later Ollie came running in, a panicked look in his eyes behind his glasses. Even when he corrected himself and stood up straight, there was a nervousness about him as he anticipated Alfie's temper.

"There you are Ollie my boy, clever lad is our Ollie, any word you fancy, anything that stumps you yeah, can always rely on our Ollie to sort you out and see you right, yeah..." Said Alfie, "Ain't that right my boy?"

"Uh yes Alfie," he said adjusting the glasses on his nose. There was a look of nervous understanding in his eyes and I wondered how familiar he was with this routine. Had my question confirmed when he took a little dictionary from his trackie bottoms pocket and opened it. When I glanced back at Sylvia she was smirking, a wry little smile, the same bored look in her eyes.

"Now then, Peaky Boy, just you tell our Ollie what it was I said that confused you yeah, he'll be more than happy to help you out won't you Ollie lad?"

I fixed Alfie with a glare, gritted my teeth. Breathed in through my nose slowly. I didn't answer him, just held his gaze. A quiet challenge I knew I was going to have to lose.

"Well go on peaky boy, this is all for your benefit see, cause in a minute yeah, in a minute I'm gonna carry on discussing my here ruminations on a particular close-to-your-heart-matter and I wouldn't want you to get left behind right, cause that wouldn't be very hospitable of me would it?"

When still I didn't say anything Alfie chuckled. Ollie appeared to be growing more uneasy by the second. When I glanced at Sylvie, who stood a little in front of me, she didn't even really look like she was listening. She looked distant. Like she'd already turned and left the room, occupied her mind with other matters.

"Go on lad don't be shy, what word would you like our boy Ollie to look up for you... He's very fast ain't you Ollie, our literary prodigal son is our Ollie, can do it with his eyes closed standing upsidedown on one leg can't you boy..."

"Uh, yes Alfie..."

I remained as cool as I could, remembering the speech Tommy had given me when he'd asked me to look after his little sister. She was vulnerable even if she didn't believe it herself. And his men in London hadn't been lying. She did look sick, not so much sick as frail. Thin was the word I'd have used too. Stretched too thin, like she was trying to be too much, too many things all at once. Unsustainable was the word I'd use to describe whatever death wish trip she was on. And whether or not Alfie was pissing me off, humiliating me, trying his best to immaculate and demoralise me, I had to put Sylvia first. Couldn't start anything that might put her at risk.

But when I opened my mouth to bow down and give in the word left someone else's lips.

"Ruminating, quick as you can Ollie please," said Sylvia, "since this conversations clearly fuckin scripted..." She added with a little smirk, leaving me with gritted teeth trying not to show my frustration. Trying not to let Alfie see how nervous her erratic behaviour was really making me.

"Mind your manners little Shelby ain't your brother told you about minding your manners... Said it before and I'll say it again, need a fuckin father figure you, it's just fuckin sad at this point... Yeah yeah, alright, what have you got for us then Ollie my boy, Ruminating, R U M I N A T I N G, ruminating..."

The young lad stuttered a little, adjusted his glasses as he held the book up to his face and squinted at the tiny writing on the page. His accent was a lot more sophisticated than Alfie's, in fact he sounded similar to Sylvia and that put a smirk on my face, because he didn't exactly sound like he should have been running with Solomons.

"Uh, To Ruminate, verb... gerund or present participle: ruminating..."

"See, he's a clever boy is our Ollie, I paid to put him through school didn't I, fuckin generous old bastard me, and ain't it paid off..." Alfie spoke over the lad, lowering his voice, addressing the room as opposed to me or Sylvie. "Shame your big brother ain't so generous eh, think what you coulda been peaky boy... All that wasted potential..."

I remained stoic, turned my attention back to the poor lad reciting the dictionary behind us.

"To ruminate is to think deeply about something for example, "we sat ruminating on the nature of existence...." Carried on Ollie, his voice a little shaken in places as his eyes flickered between the three of us and the pages of his book.

"There we go see," began Alfie, giving Ollie a little applause, insisting he took a bow, "and this morning I woke up bright an early yeah, crack of dawn, and I sat outside yeah, cause that's what I like to do in the morning you know, nice cup of herbal tea, lemon and ginger, beautiful aromatics, fuckin lovely stuff is lemon and ginger herbal tea right..." he said gesturing a kiss with his hands as he leant back into the sofa cushions. "So, I like to sit on my bench outside in the courtyard and me an Cyril yeah, we like to listen to the birds for awhile don't we boy..." He said scruffing up the hounds coat as Cyril nestled into his lap. "Cause it's good for the soul that, birdsong, very healing, very grounding... Tell everyone that don't I, birdsong, it's good for the fuckin soul Peaky Boy."

"And so that's what I did this morning right, I thought to myself, here Alf, don't those little birds outside sound lively this morning, all their little chirpin an tweetin, fuckin beautiful right, and I took myself outside and I sat back under the shade of my old hawthorn tree, and I ruminated yeah, I sat ruminating on the nature of our here predicament..."

"And what predicament might that be Alfie?" I asked dryly.

"Oh you know," he said, one arm stretched along the back of the sofa, lazy gesture as he pushed his hair back, "the little gypsy wants to see her cousin don't she Peaky Boy, and she's a stubborn little miss ain't she... Doesn't seem to care that visiting the silly bastard could get you both killed does she... Don't seem to realise what a fuckin 'orrible ugly mess those Italiano cunts made of the poor sod..."

"Doesn't sound like much of a predicament to me Alfie..." I said coldly, trying to reason with him quietly, realising my mistake a moment too late. This was Alfie Solomons. You didn't reason with him, you only showed him your weakness, told him what you didn't want him to know.

"Well you see the thing is peaky boy, I'm doing my best to be hospitable here, ain't all that often a notoriously miserable old man such as myself finds himself with guests is it, better make the most of it hadn't I?" He offered me a little sneer, a taunting light in his eyes I'd have shot clean off his face if I could have, if I hadn't had to think of Sylvie first. "And well it occurred to me whilst I was ruminating yeah, that keeping the little princess all locked up here, well that ain't all that hospitable... Is it?"

"You're going to take me to see Michael?" Asked Sylvia. The hope in her voice almost broke my heart. Certainly struck fear into my heart.

"Yeah," he said, "yeah why not eh, a little Alfie/Sylvie bonding time yeah... You'll have to stay here mind lad," he said to me, finger pointed towards my chest, "I need some kind of guarantee don't I, you'll have to play collateral I'm afraid, case any of your lot get the wrong end of the stick and start throwing accusations around."

"Fuckin no chance..." I grinned in disbelief, shaking my head and turning to Sylvia, but Sylvia wasnt looking at me. She was looking at Alfie, her eyes glowing with hope.

"Oh come on lad you know how it is, can't just go galavanting around town with Shelby royalty when there's a war on, and not keep some kind of bargaining chip safe at home... You know how it is lad? She don't seem too enamoured with you right now either... Coupla hours apart might do you good yeah? Absence makes the heart grow fonder, ain't that what they say..."

"I said no, fuckin no..."

"I'm going." Said Sylvie without looking at me. Leaving me to freeze, speechless and full of dread.

"There we go see, look at that eh Peaky Boy, you see her face, how's an old softie like me sposed to say no to that delightful little smile?" He asked me, his eyes challenging me quietly to fight him, to try and deny Sylvie something he'd already promised her. The hope he'd dangled in front of her.

I was the enemy now. As simple as that.

"You said it yourself Alfie, she could get herself killed..." I started, knowing that nothing I said now would change Sylvia's mind. Feeling a devastating kind of desperation rip through me when I looked back at her and saw the decision had already been made.

"I'm sure Alfie can handle a couple Italians..." She said fixing me with a cruel determination. Daggers in her eyes. And I wondered then which of my actions had been the final nail in this coffin. Had it been the way I'd spoken to her this morning, so unforgiving, spiteful tone, or had it been last night when I'd pushed her down into the mattress, kept her trapped beneath me as I tried to strike the fear of god into her. When had I made myself the enemy? When had she decided to put her trust in him and not me?

"Oh aye, course I can, couple of Changretta's, a sprinkling of Sabinis, piece of piss, piece of pumpkin bloody pie, don't you worry peaky boy, I'll keep her safe..."

I swallowed a lump in my throat, fist clenched at my side.

"I'm not letting you go alone Sylvia!"

"You fuckin are mate those are the parameters as laid out by me, master of this here fuckin house... You either wait at home like a good little pup whilst me and the little miss head out on the town, or she don't fuckin go... Now I don't know about you but if it were up to me, I'd pick my fuckin battles yeah..."

"Sylvia..." I groaned.

"I'm going to see my cousin Isaiah..."

"For fuck sake girl! I'm not about to let you go an get yourself killed!"

"Oi, Peaky boy!" Alfie suddenly bellowed, his voice silencing the both of us, ringing out around the kitchen, startling Ollie so that he dropped his dictionary and began scrambling for it on the floor. "You don't fuckin swear at girls like that who do you think you are?" Snapped Alfie, squaring up to me, his finger jabbing into my chest as I stared coldly back at him. Met his eyes with a silent challenge. "Raising your voice at young girls like that, fuckin disgusting..."

I looked straight through him and then turned on him, crossed the room to Sylvia. For a moment I was furious, gripped with rage. Rage at the humiliation she was forcing me to endure, rage at her indignance, her selfishness. The anger sparked in me every time Alfie opened his useless mouth.

And then all at once I wasn't.

In the second I snatched at her arm and saw it - the bruise I'd left on her arm the night before, the shape of my unforgiving grip in a bracelet around her wrist - I lost just enough fight to give up.

I picked up her hand and turned her palm over in my mine. I felt the guilt twist inside me when I looked down at the mark I'd left. Felt like a hypocrite as I tried to plead with her once again.

"Sylvia I gave your brother my word... I ain't about to break it by letting you go running off round London with a f... psychopath..."

I looked down at her, met her cold eyes again. They were full of shadows. She was out of reach again and I could feel the hopelessness returning to me. The heavy feeling in my heart. Because she was determined and unfeeling and it hurt to see her so removed. Not quite a ghost but almost. Not quite a girl either. Knowing I'd pushed her into this corner. Knowing that if I'd been a little more gentle things might have been different.

"Now to be fair mate, to be fair right, she was already doing that wasn't she... Running round London with a murderous bastard... There ain't no denying that's what she was doing is there?"

I ignored Alfie. Sylvie just smirked. Held my gaze and smirked. I wondered if she could feel a thing. Had to lie to myself and believe it was all just an act. Believe I hadn't seen this look in her brothers eyes just before he gave the order to kill.

"Gave your brother my word..." I said again, losing all hope in the silence that followed. Losing all hope in the moment I saw her lips move around the words.

"Fuck my brother."

"Now now darlin there's no need for that eh, the boys only followin orders ain't he, like he said he just wants what's best don't you Peaky Boy... No need to swear eh, no need at all..." Said Alfie stepping up behind her, his hands on her shoulders, smoothing down her arms as he met my gaze with a smug glint in his eyes. "Now don't you worry Peaky Boy, she'll be perfectly safe with good old Alfie right, I'll look after her I promise... In fact you know what, you know what... You have my word."

And I knew there was no fighting them then. Knew that Sylvia had cut herself off from me, that she was out of reach now. Unfeeling and determined. I knew then that I'd lost her, that if anything happened to her now it was my fault. That I hadn't done enough for her and yet couldn't do anymore.

"Alright little darlin," said Alfie with a much sweeter smile when he looked down at her, his hand rubbed her back in a smooth circle and I felt my hatred for him twist deep in my stomach. "You run along and get your things, here I'll even let you pick the car eh, how about that?"

Taglist (sorry if you're on here and don't want to be I lost my taglist for trouble and I'm away and working from mobile so just had to copy the old one for everything)

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@zablife

@itsghostgirlyo

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call-sign-shark

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[circular-bircular]

Sup! I’m not a part of the whole be nice to persecutors squad, but I do rehabilitate persecutors sometimes as an ex-persecutor myself and I would like to hear your thoughts on my opinions (genuinely I am open to change. Ik I'm harsh). This is going to be a long one and I’m sorry if I sound dismissive of other feelings it’s more of a how it all feels to me.

This is all persecutor discussion that may be upsetting. Please read with caution or delete from your inbox as you see fit.

So yes of course persecutors should not be treated like monsters they are a part of a system. They are people (or whatever word refers best to one’s conscious collective) and they deserve love and respect like anyone else. So are the people they hurt though. I feel that’s really forgotten in this positivity around the guy that hurts people.

So in my villain era I just chose to be an asshole. I was pissed at the system and wanted to make their lives hell. Letting me front was a mistake I was purposefully off putting around our friends (no they didn’t bloody deserve it I knew what I was doing. I also wasn’t mean I was off putting, to be clear). I wasn’t a confused protector. I wasn’t protecting us. I made the conscious decision and effort to hurt or disturb anything I came into contact with because I was mad. Not all persecutors are like this but my annoyance is at the whole persecutor positivity that includes people like me.

I didn’t change because the system was nice to me. I wouldn’t have changed because someone got me an ice cream or sympathised with me (and they tried) I changed because I happened to be fronting one night and someone was vulnerable in front of us. I’d been nothing but an asshole up until them but I was trusted because in that moment I wanted to change and trusting that I would try I was allowed to. I masked and helped the guy.

That’s not advice btw that’s just, what happened. No one being nice to me or trying to get me to change made me change it was having room for the decision to change that changed me. Getting mad at me for being an ass, making me say sorry for being an ass and treating me like someone who was an ass didn’t stop me from recovery. I whole heartedly believe that you don’t owe all persecutors kindness.

I was reforming a dipshit and I’ve been nothing but kind to her and she was still a dipshit. She understood she was being a dipshit but was fulfilling a role she thought had to be fulfilled and while I slowly undid that the person she was “tasked” with being a dipshit toward was allowed to be angry and upset and hurl insults back. You should be allowed to feel like you’re protecting yourself.

And finally my most controversial statement. System jail is fine. Locking up parts of your system for being assholes isn’t good for them but when you can no longer take the constant abuse or you have too many other problems that’s fine. I don’t understand the weird obsession with being nice to the bully. In my experience that wont stop em and sometimes there is no space to give them room to change all you can do is protect yourself until there is space.

I’m not a persecutor hater. I’m just an internet guy that says the online advice f being nice ignores the people that get hurt. It’s a nuanced and individual situation. Internet advice does not fix that. I am nice when there’s room to be nice and I believe that prosecutors will heal but the shit they fucking did should not be overlooked.

& If any recovering persecutors are reading this. I see you. You’re on a difficult path. You deserve love and respect and to live life.

This wasn't one of the eaten asks, but I've honestly been trying to work out how to respond to this for a long time. I'm gonna try and break this down for myself. And by that I mean, here's Debbie with the weather.

So yes of course persecutors should not be treated like monsters they are a part of a system. They are people (or whatever word refers best to one’s conscious collective) and they deserve love and respect like anyone else. So are the people they hurt though. I feel that’s really forgotten in this positivity around the guy that hurts people.

Absolutely, anon. The people we've hurt need to be rewarded for the shit they've survived from us. I was a complete and absolute bitch, and I apologize for how much of a bitch I was -- but not for the reasons why I was a bitch. I'm not going to apologize for my trauma. For any persecutors reading this, nobody here is asking you to apologize for who you are. We're just saying, acknowledging that you hurt someone is a good place to start.

So in my villain era I just chose to be an asshole. I was pissed at the system and wanted to make their lives hell. Letting me front was a mistake I was purposefully off putting around our friends (no they didn’t bloody deserve it I knew what I was doing. I also wasn’t mean I was off putting, to be clear). I wasn’t a confused protector. I wasn’t protecting us. I made the conscious decision and effort to hurt or disturb anything I came into contact with because I was mad. Not all persecutors are like this but my annoyance is at the whole persecutor positivity that includes people like me.

Anon, take this whatever way you want, but that to me sounds like protecting your system. I purposefully made myself unpleasant to be around. I fucked with my friends and purposefully pissed them off, not "to protect us UwU" but because they were fucking stupid to be friends with these idiots. The other fuckers in my head were weak, pathetic, and pointless. I pretended to be other parts, just to pull the rug out from under my friends, because god was it easy to, and it was absolutely hilarious to see their reactions. I tortured my other parts innerworld, because god was it fun to make them realize just how pathetic they were, just how much better I was than them. My goal was to get the other parts to kill themselves (what I understood as dormancy after some time) and let me just take charge, because I wanted to live.

And yeah. That's me protecting my system.

Because the more I bashed us, the more I said, "let me take over because I'm better than you," the more I pushed away all my friends... It was the more I "kept us safe" from getting hurt from the outside. Rice won't be hurt if she doesn't exist. Rice won't break down from trauma memories if fill her brain with trauma memories 24/7. Rice won't lose her friends and break down if she has no friends to begin with.

I didn't do that on purpose, of course. I didn't look to help these assholes. I wanted them GONE. But now that I'm reformed, now that I can look back at what a mess I actually was, instead of the perfect being I thought I was, I can understand that all of that was my misguided way of protecting us. Even if I didn't understand that at the time.

I made that conscious decision to hurt, and it was influenced by the unconscious decision to protect.

Now, maybe you really were just a pissy lil bitch who wanted to hurt people, whatever, I really couldn't care less about you. But at the end of the day, alters in DID systems split for a reason -- to cope with trauma and make it bearable to survive through. So regardless of what edgy pre-teen bullshit you're spouting, if you're an alter, you're a form of protector in some way. At least in my eyes.

I didn’t change because the system was nice to me. I wouldn’t have changed because someone got me an ice cream or sympathised with me (and they tried) I changed because I happened to be fronting one night and someone was vulnerable in front of us. I’d been nothing but an asshole up until them but I was trusted because in that moment I wanted to change and trusting that I would try I was allowed to. I masked and helped the guy.

Cool! Glad you worked your shit out. I started getting better because someone was really fucking mean to me. I mean, I had food poisoning, was running out of the room to vomit, and my friend still sat me down for like a 2 hour or so lecture about how I was a fucking awful person and she wouldn't stop lecturing me until I shaped the fuck up and understood why she thought I was bad. That fucking BROKE me.

Being nice to your persecutor is one way. Torturing them after fucking cafeteria mozzarella stick induced food poisoning is another. To each their own, y'know? (Side note, I know you don't follow me here bby but I love you, thank you for slapping the shit out of past me with your words and anger <3)

That’s not advice btw that’s just, what happened. No one being nice to me or trying to get me to change made me change it was having room for the decision to change that changed me. Getting mad at me for being an ass, making me say sorry for being an ass and treating me like someone who was an ass didn’t stop me from recovery. I whole heartedly believe that you don’t owe all persecutors kindness.

I wholeheartedly believe nobody is owed kindness. Kindness is a choice I make -- one that can easily be decided against if it is no longer beneficial to be kind. I owe no loyalty to kindness. I choose to be kind, because why the fuck wouldn't I be, you fucking idiot?

I was reforming a dipshit and I’ve been nothing but kind to her and she was still a dipshit. She understood she was being a dipshit but was fulfilling a role she thought had to be fulfilled and while I slowly undid that the person she was “tasked” with being a dipshit toward was allowed to be angry and upset and hurl insults back. You should be allowed to feel like you’re protecting yourself.

Ok but that was a kind thing to do. Like. That's what I mean when I say to be kind to your persecutors. Letting them BE ANGRY IS A GOOD THING???? So confused why this isn't seen as being kind. You took the time out of your fucking schedule to help give that person a space to be upset and angry. That's kindness. That was a choice.

And finally my most controversial statement. System jail is fine. Locking up parts of your system for being assholes isn’t good for them but when you can no longer take the constant abuse or you have too many other problems that’s fine. I don’t understand the weird obsession with being nice to the bully. In my experience that wont stop em and sometimes there is no space to give them room to change all you can do is protect yourself until there is space.

God you're so fucking hilarious tbh.

Yeah, sure, whatever, system jail is fine, esp in cases like. Where you're still in an abusive situation. That's because you're allowed to make mistakes, and system jail is a mistake. It's perfectly valid and fine while also being really fucking awful and stupid.

The "weird obsession" with being nice to the bully isn't "it will stop them." It's "that's an entire ass part of yourself, stop fucking airing your self-hatred out in public for everyone to see, it's nauseating."

TL;DR: Being kind to your persecutors is a choice. Obviously, it's not one you HAVE to make, but it's highly suggested. The issue is, "kindness" looks different for everyone. For me, it was "kind" to have someone do the equivalent of a guttural scream for 2 hours. For others, it's fru-fru shit that makes them feel all warm and fuzzy. For you, it was just giving someone the time and space to be angry. Making mistakes is okay. Do what you want forever and who even gives a shit? And FFS, OBVIOUSLY, LET'S NOT IGNORE THE VICTIMS OF OUR ABUSE. (But yknow, let's not ignore the fact that persecutors are also victims of abuse and they get blamed for literally every fucking thing jfc).

[callme-whatyoulike]

All I Need to Hear

this picture isn't entirely relevant to the story. but it's how i imagined him looking in this one. also, here's some songs that i imagine would be playing during this. one of my favorite "genres" of music is slow love songs to dance in the kitchen to. all i need to hear is one of those songs. it should be played at a wedding. anyway. just a little fluff piece. i like it very much. enjoy ♡♡

"I'm home!"

I look at the clock. 9:37. Another late evening at the studio. I'd grown used to this, of course, but late evenings weren't particularly enjoyable when I felt like utter crap. I woke up this morning with a headache and a sore throat, but the symptoms have since escalated. It's taken everything I've had not to just go to bed. But we're busy tomorrow, and things need done around the house.

It would have all just been a bit easier with Matty here. But I didn't tell him that. He would have come straight home, and even though he tells me that I'm never a bother, I didn't want to inconvenience him.

But he's here now. I'm just starting the dishes as I hear him walk through the door. He finds his way to the kitchen, setting his things onto the counter.

"I'm so sorry, darling," he says, pressing a quick kiss onto the top of my head. "I didn't expect to stay that long."

"S'alright," I reply.

"Will you ever forgive me?"

"I'll consider it." He smirks at me.

"Need help?" he asks, glancing at the soapy water and unclean pots and plates.

"No, that's okay. You go shower, I'll get these finished in no time."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

He hesitates. Kisses me on the temple. Heads to the bathroom. It's just dishes. I can rest afterward. Although there are boxes to unpack in the office, still. I should get that done at some point. Perhaps that's where all of our spoons have gone.

As I ponder the whereabouts of our silverware, hum along to whatever songs are shuffling on my playlist, and scrub pans that have sat on the counter since yesterday's lunch, Matty quickly showers, dresses, and makes his way back to the kitchen, just as I'm draining the sink.

"Do you know where that gray shirt went?" he asks me, peeking into the entryway to see if there might be unopened boxes hiding away there.

"That's rather vague, dear." I do, somehow, know which one he's talking about, though. "But no, I've not seen it."

"Damn. Probably in whatever box the spoons are in." I hum in agreement. I turn and finally get a good look at him for the first time since this morning. He's dressed into his pajamas, his hair is a damp mess. No shirt, as our previous conversation just revealed. He looks tired.

I must look just as exhausted because his expression changes. It softens a bit once I finally look up at him. We don't have to tell each other it was a long day. We just know.

A good song is playing. Slow. One of our favorites. Good for dancing in a kitchen.

He opens his arms, and I fall right into them, wrapping mine around him. We sway ever so slightly, resting our heads on the other's shoulder. I have to stand on my toes a bit to do that. Matty very quietly hums to the song. And we stay like this for a while, even as the next song begins to play.

I answered the question that I knew Matty would eventually ask me: why didn't you tell me you were having a bad day?

"I didn't want to inconvenience you."

"Have you forgotten everything we've discussed?" he laughs.

"I know," I sigh. "But you were working. I know you would drop everything to be here if I said anything."

"Is that such a bad thing?"

I giggle. "Yes, Matthew. As much as we would both love it, we can't put everything else on hold just because we want to stay in bed together all day."

"Oh, I don't know." He kisses my cheek quickly, sways a little harder. "I don't think anyone would mind." He pulls his head back, looking down at me now. His lips crinkle into a smile. "I mean, look at you. I'm sure they'd understand."

"I look like hell, Matty." And I do. I haven't done anything with my hair since I showered this morning. My face is entirely makeup free. I've got sweatpants, a sports bra, and my favorite oversized cardigan and socks on. I'm not exactly a sight for sore eyes.

"You do not." Another kiss, this time on the forehead. "Never, darling."

"You have to say that."

"Maybe. But that doesn't make it any less true."

I roll my eyes at him and resort to resting my head against his chest now. Another song is playing now. Something about fooling around and falling in love. Seems fitting.

"I know I say it a lot," Matty starts, "but you can tell me about your bad days, okay?" His hand runs up and down my back. "I want you to bother me. I want to make room for you in my day, in my life, yeah?" He holds me a bit tighter. "Please, just bother me."

I nod. "Okay." I mean it. At least right now.

"D'you want to go to bed?"

"There's still boxes to unpack in the office."

"It can wait."

"Then absolutely."

"Good. Me, too."

[kissorkill16]

Typical Ivan Behavior: A Hello Neighbor Fanfic

By JJ

Summary: Ivan is back, but he's acting stranger than usual.

Nicky was walking down the sidewalk, lost in his own head. Those pills he's been taking have been messing him up pretty good, and he was a little more tired than usual.

It's not that he didn't sleep, it's because they always made him less energetic.

Nicky was pulled back to reality when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around, expecting to see Trinity, or Delroy since he liked to sneak up on people, but when he saw who it was, he nearly fainted.

Ivan.

He's been missing for weeks, and here he was, in the flesh.

"Hello, Nicky."

Nicky jumped on his friend, wrapping his arms tightly around him, tears of joy coming out of the corner of his eyes.

"Ivan! Oh my God! You're okay!", he said. "Where were you?! We were so worried! Oh just wait until the others hear about this, they'll be so happy to see you!"

Ivan gently pushed Nicky away, "I didn't mean to scare anyone with my disappearance, I've just been so busy trying to get some stuff together."

Nicky's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "About what?"

"Let's walk and talk."

Ivan put an arm around Nicky's shoulder, and they walked and talked.

"There's this little brass and emerald pentagon. It's shiny, and I kind of lost it. Do you know where it is? It's really valuable and it's very important that I find it.", said Ivan.

Nicky tapped his chin, remembering the little pentagon he picked up one night in the woods with Aaron, Mya, and Lucy. "I think I know what that is.", he said.

"Do you have it?"

Nicky turned to look at Ivan, and for some reason, he didn't like what he saw.

His eyes were a light red, and they barely contained anything other than disgust and deceit.

This wasn't Ivan. He was only 50% sure, there was only one way to be 100% sure.

"Why do you even need the thing in the first place?", he asked.

"That's none of your concern, Nicholas. All that matters to me right now is that I have it back. I need it, it's very important."

Now Nicky was 60% sure this wasn't Ivan. Ivan never called him by his full name before, he just called him Nicky like everyone else.

"Ivan, there's something you need to know about that little pentagon.", said Nicky. "A year back, when I was in the woods with my past friends, I saw someone holding that thing. It was glowing, and when it glowed, it started raining.", he pried the arm away from his shoulder. "That thing is dangerous, Ivan. I don't think you should be looking for it."

"I'm aware of what it does, Nicholas. But despite its abilities, I really need the device."

"Why? So you can control the weather? Yeah, fat chance."

Nicky was about to leave, but Ivan latched a hand around his arm and pulled him back. He made Nicky look at him directly in his eyes, and poor Nicky was frozen with fear.

Now he was 100% sure this wasn't the real Ivan.

"Nicholas, for the last time, I need that device. I don't have time for whatever you're trying to pull. So are you going to tell me where it is, or are you going to be a brat?"

Nicky unfroze and did something he didn't even know he had the strength in him to do. He pulled his hand out of Ivan's grip, and kicked him in the stomach, making him fall to the ground.

"Even if I did have the device, I wouldn't give it to you. I don't know what you're trying to pull, but you're NOT Ivan. The Ivan I know is more nice than whatever the hell you're trying to be, and he wouldn't threaten me to tell the truth, you imbecile. So I suggest that you back off before things get ugly."

And with that, he walked away.

Nicky was lying. He did have the device, in his bedside drawer with a bunch of other forgotten parts of torn up gadgets. He would've given it to Ivan, if he was the real Ivan.

Ivan got up and dusted himself off, his shiny red eyes burning holes in the back of Nicky's head.

"Oh don't worry, Nicholas.", he said, his voice growing deeper. "Things will get ugly really, really fast."

[thecameronchronicles]

Yours

TW: Public sex. Smut. Language. Spanking. 

SUMMARY: Your confession leads JJ to act.

WORD COUNT: 1400

REQUESTED:

Can you pls write JJ x Reader, JJ asks what do you want.. and you say “I want to be yours..”meaning his. It leads to him picking you up and making you fully his.. lots of smut because possessive JJ is the best!! He loves that you came to him asking him to be his.. since your always flirting but never coming across the line. Between being friends and more. Thank you so much, love your writing ❤️❤️❤️

Yours 

"JJ!" You called after him, watching him storm away from the section of the Boneyard less crowded, continuing still until you were completely alone. 

"Don't let me stop you, princess. Don't want to be the reason you give another random touron fucking blue balls, God knows you're good at it-" 

"Would you just talk to me?! Why are you so mad?" You pleaded, frustrated at how he seemed so possessive over someone who was just supposed to be a friend to him. But in truth, it had been a long time since the existence between you was solely platonic. If it ever was. 

"What's the point?" He suddenly spat as you called his name in repetition, his steps suddenly bringing you to face him as he was close enough to feel the heat from his breath. 

"You're just going to tell me I'm reading too much into it because you don't know what the hell you want." 

"Yes I do..." You explained in more of a whine as he crossed his arms. 

"This outta be good then. Tell me. What do you want princess? The attention of every guy from Kook to...crab? Because you've got it. Just like you always do. Like you always fucking have!" 

"You! I want you!" 

"No you dont." His response made you aggravated for a multitude of reasons. But nothing more than the fact you'd finally been able to say those words and he had rivaled you. 

"YES, I do!" 

"No, you don't. You feel bad for me. You pity me, you don't-" You silenced him, rushing across the brief distance between you and pressing your lips aggressively to his. 

"I want to be yours, JJ. It's all I've ever wanted, all I-" He dove back into you. Any semblance of reservation dissolving with each kiss until you felt him strengthen the eroticism with a tongue brushing your bottom lip. Once you parted your lips further, due to his tease, this acted as the final validation he needed as he raised his hand to your breast. 

"JJ-" 

"You want to be mine? Then that means I get to have all of you..." He explained, gripping the clasp of your bikini top in one hand until he could pull the fabric beneath the weight of your breasts. A greedy mouth warmed one as the other would find comfort in his warm but tight grasp. 

"It also means every one of those fucking moans from here on out belong to me, right?" 

"Yes-" 

"And every time you come. That will be because of me. Right?" 

"Please. Yes. Please." You spoke quickly as he bit onto your nipple, kneading it with his teeth as your fingers dug sharply into his muscles. 

"Oh my God!" You gasped as a hand now made its way into your jean shorts and panties, a smirk from him having broken your attempt to kiss him. 

"And you will only ever be this wet for me...Anyone else even tried and-" 

"Only you, JJ...please. Make me yours." 

"You have no idea what you're in for..." He growled as he watched your expression twist in response to his fingers tessing your sex. 

"Then show me." He lifted you around him, leading you to one of the decrepit trees lain forgotten on the beach, before you were set level with him. 

"Always teasing me with these goddamn suits...gonna kiss every inch and leave my mark on every part of you so you can wear whatever the fuck you want, but everyone knows only I get to touch you...." You nodded as he removed the bikini top completely, your exposed back clawed by his fingers, before he returned a hand between your legs. 

"JJ!" 

"You've yelled my name a lot...But something different about you doing it when you wanna come. So fucking desperate. Hot. Sexy..." 

"Yours." 

"Everything?" He teased as you nodded. A ringed finger finally granting you access to pleasure as you rode softly into him. But the presence of a second finger bent to join the first at the edge of your g-spot, had welcomed him with a feeling of arrogance to know how easily he could control you right now. 

"Those little whines? These perfect tits?" He asked, a second hand groping that soft skin, a kiss brought around those nipples once again, as you gasped in the heat of his kiss mixing with the heat he caused between your thighs. 

"This ass?" He asked, tearing you down from the trunk and facing you away from him. 

"Yes." 

"Then let me see what's mine, sweetheart. All of you. Just for me." You were shameless and bold, unabashed from his words, as you undressed for him. 

"Oh my God...But what will it do for ME? I already know you're stunning. I already know everyone else wants to fuck you. But what will your perfect curves and body do for ME?" He asked with a smirk as you felt him press you onto the tree. 

"Better do something fast or you'll freeze, princess." You turned quickly, fingers softly at his chest. 

"Whatever you want." 

"Show me how badly you want to be mine then. Show me what you're willing to do for it." You took his hint as he set his fingers beyond your cheek and into your hair, the same wrap remaining as you would then look up at him with doe eyes contradicting in sin and innocence. 

"You keep those eyes on me. I want to watch how much you want it." You nodded, removing his belt, resending the button of his shorts, and taking him beyond your puckered lips. His eyes rolled immediately as he pulled you along along him as he now used the tree as a means for stability. 

"Just like that..." He endorsed. 

"Fuck..." He became lost in the perfection of how you took him. Drool and tears mixed into a drip down your chin, breathless gasps and gags disregarded, all unified to offer him the pleasure in proving you truly wanted him. 

"You really do wanna be mine?" He asked, looking down to you, face almost in a wince or even angered, as he pulled you off of his cock, making you gasp, before he took hold of your jaw. 

"Then you're gonna let me come so deep inside you, you'll be dripping with me for days...weeks even." You nodded. 

"Please!" 

"Turn around. I wanna feel that ass against me." You obliged as he aligned himself onto your sex. 

"You're gonna be so fucking tight, I already felt it." He wrapped his hand at the back of your neck. 

"But you're gonna be loud for me, too. Let everyone know just how proud you are to be mine." Before you could speak even a word, he was inside of you, forcing you into the rough bark of the tree. But the mend from pleasure by his cock and fingers, you forgave him quickly. And in repetition as these battering pounds continued. 

"I thought we agreed you were proud to be mine?" 

"I am!" 

"Then why the fuck can't I hear it?" 

"Harder!" He slapped your ass, taking you against his shaft in hard bucks. Sporadic strikes to either cheek would echo between your pleas for 'more' as JJ was quick to oblige. But with each battering came the acceleration of his speed. 

"That's it isn't it baby? My cock's gonna make you come, isn't it? So close aren't you?" 

"F-uck-" You shuddered as he scoffed. 

"You're so fucking close, I can feel you clenching for me...But I need it all. Because I'm proud to be yours too, baby...And I'm gonna go back with you worn on me too." You nodded. 

"I'm gonna come, JJ-" 

"My girl's gonna come for me?" 

"Yes! For you, JJ!" 

"Then come, princess. All over this cock, all reserved for you-" Your eyes rolled as the pleasure surged through you. Buck after buck and pound after relentless pound continued through your high as your inner convulsions clenched him into his own. 

"Jesus fuck-" He managed before turning you to face him. 

"Mine, huh?" He asked, helping you redress as you nodded. 

"Yours…"

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @obxxrxfes @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @rafesbae @camilynn @sweetestdesire @pankhoeforlife @pankowperfection

[sewmice]

Thanks for the reblog, I just hope people can clear this and come away still playing… this event is enough to make anyone want to scream into the abyss. I’m almost impressed at the thought process behind this design, no wonder Broccoli changed from Shining Live, this is so much more profitable… for them.

This event being...something. The previous ones all having issues. And up until this huge login bonus, rewards just not being enough for pulls has been not a great start for the game. And with the player base, and hell just Utapri fanbase, just being lower than back when Shining Live started, it makes a mistake way more likely to ruin the game's chance at thriving. Also having a harsher event after the Session Lives and Tokiya's were pretty nice is....rough. And definitely might run people off who are already getting annoyed with the other issues.

Granted, the fanbase is still kicking pretty well, more so in Japan. The whales are still whaling. Tickets are still a fight. But like...we know it's gone down.

The move away from Shining Live is obviously more complicated than Broccoli wanting more money. The game was getting stagnant. It was developed by KLab, who was well moving away from rhythm games and have their own issues. The player base was declining. The spark was gone. I kinda wish Broccoli had leaned more into what made SL great when they took over, but the changing of games was kinda necessary. And it got Heavens fans their boys. Adding them to SL would have required heavy changes. Easier to start from scratch.

I do want to point out what has been great about Live Emotion so far! Reasons why we should stay encouraged and hope Broccoli keeps making good changes (because they have! We just had a qol update! They're giving us the 5000 login bonus too!) And this post is gonna get long lol

The boys in SL....got bland? They were only their idol sides, because even the backstage stuff was on camera. We stopped really seeing their depth and personalities, and that's the whole point of Utapri! To see them and work with them behind the screen! The idol stuff was supposed to be secondary! But since season 4 ended, all we've had is SL, movies, and other side projects that are JUST their idol side (aside from the Starish OVA).

But Live Emotion has us as Haruka again! We're by their side when they're actually being themselves! We get to romance them again! We're seeing Utapri as it was again! And as someone who has been here since 2012, god it feels so nice?? Like old times?

We're acknowledging and even having other characters in the stories. Both presidents have already shown up! And while no one else aside from them is listed in the voice cast yet, surely others will show soon? At least Ringo and Ryuuya. (they should've been in Starish's chapter at the school but whatever) Fucking Rodriguez has a mention in the event?? Like, the world is alive again! It's not just our 11 to 18 main boys (depending on content)

Old content and outfits are being used which will help with the concept fatigue SL had. And also it's just nice to see really good old designs not just be forgotten! I'm not a huge fan as to how Ultra Blast is being handled. It feels weird to have some people get SRs. In the same way I didn't like Oodorokiman and Shining Romance/Force Live being mixed SRs and URs. But I've seen other people upset and in the same way SL stopped doing that, hopefully Live Emotion will too.

And again Broccoli has been listening to feedback and making changes. There's still...a lot of work to do. But SL also made a lot of changes over time. So hopefully they keep listening and things get better. Because there's parts of this game worth protecting and wanting to continue. I loved how SL did stuff too. I wish we had everything about how SL did stuff with gachas and event mechanics, but the story and character quality of Live Emotion. We just gotta...push Broccoli in that direction.

I really hope the event doesn't scare people off! We're on 2 full months of the game. The first of this event type. Stuff can still change!!!

[lowqualitygarbage]

So what is the wasteland like in your AU? Is life slowly crawling back in? Or is it being stamped out by petty conflicts and the Jesus freaks? How the hell do Gamma storms even still exist? What lives out thier besides people?

!!! Hi!

So, this AU is a pretty direct Fallout adaptation, and I'm not sure how familiar you are with the games so sorry if I over or under explain.

It does kind of bother me that in the games like 200 years have passed since the War, and people are still basically in the stone age and eating centuries-old mac'n'cheese despite so much of the Old World being in a semi-recoverable state.

The sort answer is, the Wasteland could actually be built into a functioning society pretty easily, if people weren't The Absolute Worst.

Settlements are kept small and lower-tech, because you're right, the Army of Righteous does prioritize places that look like they could become a threat. Water treatment plants, armories, power stations, commercial farmlands, etc. The only large settlements that can survive are the ones that are basically fortresses and not worth the effort to wipe out.

This is part of what allowed the system of Overlords to form - they were basically Raiders who were able to survive long enough to amass enough fortifications and followers to the point they aren't easy targets any more, which in turn brings even more settlers to agree to serve under them for protection.

Wildlife is standard Fallout fare - mole rats, mutant dogs, radstags, yao guai, deathclaws, brahmin, giant insects of all kinds, mirelurks, robots, ghouls, and super mutants (along with whatever else I've forgotten). There are a few other animals I'll throw in mutated variations of as needed. Only major homebrew species is Razorbacks - mutated descendants of pigs and boars, I'll do a little writeup on them when I post Fat Nuggets.

As for the radiation storms, they're a gameplay element from Fallout 4, which I think they explained as there being the hyper-irradiated Glowing Sea nearby, which was ground zero for a massive nuke. Storm fronts coming into the Commonwealth over it would pick up the radiation and cause an extra hazard during storms. Most people and animals would either take shelter from the storms, or are already too irradiated/mutated to really be bothered. It's a convenient device to force people into places and in close quarters for a period of time, so I kept it. Let's just assume Pentagram City was a major target for nukes like other major cities, so there's a similar issue.

Additional worldbuilding thoughts below the cut:

The people who do make advancements/big recoveries in technology are people like Vox, and are just basically cut-throat capitalists who will murder their competitors and burn down/steal their stuff, to keep a monopoly on what they offer.

So VoxTech in the Vault 666 universe does offer a bunch of modern conveniences, but he also owns the local power stations and such to make them work, and runs the Vees' territory like a glorified Company Town where everything just goes back into his pockets. Anyone who tries to innovate is either bought out by him, or killed off so they're not a threat. Same with other Overlords who run an industry. No altruists can survive in this environment, which makes Charlie's dreams that much crazier.

technically anyone could probably run a radio broadcast. Alastor is so full of himself he doesn't see others as being even close his level, but people are too freaked out by him to really try; doesn't help that he overrides Vox's broadcast (which is commercials with some music now and again) for funsies whenever he feels like it.