#him and henry were soulmates

[secretagentsagainstwhatever]

the real og childhood crush

[multi-fandom-imagine]

⟣ Garnet- || Calverine ||

Prompt used:

garnet (passion) - “i know i say it a lot, but i really do adore you.”

Logan loved, more than anything.

He loved your smile, loved how you crinkle your nose when you laugh. He loved your scent, how soft your skin was. The little whimpers that escape your lips when he fucked you. The way you moan out his name or how you dig your nails into his back.

He loved when you clung to him as you two road off on his bike. You were his everything.

You were his soulmate.

Leaning in, he let his lips ghost your lips before turning away lighting up his cigar as he focused his attention back on his motorcycle since he wanted to take you out for a ride but of course things were never so simple.

Tapping your heel against the desk your eyes narrowed spotting a man slip through a portal, mask covering his face though you already knew what was about to happen once you saw Logan's body tense.

"You know from behind you look a bit like Henry."

Nearly biting his cigar in half, Logan slowly turned to face the loud mouth.

"Holy fuck! The cavalry. The legends are true and may I say Sir, on behalf of all of humanity this just feels right."

Letting out a scoff, you glanced down at your nails just as Logan turned away. Irritation rolling off him in waves.

"Oh and you little missy...you sure are getting around." Wade glanced at you, well a different variant of you

"You don't get to speak to her bub." Logan now fully facing Wade, cigar in his hand he was doing all he could to not pull this idiot apart.

"He said it! And just let me say we will treat you so much better than those shit fucks down the street."

Lips curling into a snarl, Logan shook his head as he placed the cigar back between lips. "You were just leaving." Eyes narrowed, Logan unsheathed his claws as he rushed towards Wade.

It happened within a blink of an eye, you heard something about another universe but it didn't matter to you, the only thing on your mind was Logan. Grinning you hopped off the bench wrapped your arms around his neck. "i know i say it a lot, but i really do adore you"

A small grunt left his lips as he wove his arms around your hips drawing you in close. "You're the best thing that's happened to me, I'll make up this day for what that fucker ruined."

"Can't wait."

[hawkinsbnbg]

moony

prompt: stuff | word count: 483 | rated: T | tags: fluff, friends to lovers | @steddiemicrofic | ao3

It was the Fourth of July again. Granted, the day didn't hold any good memories for Steve after Startcourt, but when Eddie asked to take him to the fair, he still agreed.

Because the Upside Down had been dismantled alongside Henry’s death back in 1986, and Steve had decided that 1987 would be their year.

What was better than to start making good memories together? Even if they were full of nosy teenagers and a platonic soulmate who wouldn't leave Steve alone once they learned about his huge crush on their local metalhead.

It didn't matter that Steve was being careful to not ruin his friendship with Eddie, because everyone—including Nancy and Jonathan, shockingly enough—all advised him to make his moves on Eddie as soon as possible.

But Steve had been burned too many times to not learn his lessons. That he always scared off his partners every time he got too ahead of himself.

No one would ask for a ring after only a week, and frankly, no one sane would want a house and six kids after just one month of dating him.

And since Steve was determined to not repeat his mistake, he tried to give Eddie time to get used to his… clinginess.

So far, Eddie didn't seem to mind Steve spending nearly every day hanging out with him. If anything, he always looked delighted around Steve.

That should mean something, right?

“Which ones d’ya like, Stevie?”

Startled from his daydream, he turned to stare blankly at Eddie and then the gallery gun in Eddie's hands.

“What?”

“Look at those little buddies over there,” Eddie gestured at the stuffed animals displayed behind the shooting targets board. “Why don't you take your pick, sweetheart?”

Steve gaped. This was his first time being asked that kind of question. The very move he usually brandished to make girls swoon, but never expected the day when it’d be used on him.

“Uhm,” he fumbled a bit before pointing at a white bunny in the center, “that one.”

“Cute,” Eddie chuckled.

Steve blushed, unsure which ones Eddie was referring to—him or the stuffed bunny.

Before he could become a stuttering tomato, Eddie cocked the gun and winked at him.

“Watch me, ‘kay?”

Steve nodded and did his best as Eddie's personal cheerleader.

No one remembered how many attempts it took for Eddie to get the prize. But holding Sir Fluffy—“a holy knight,” declared Eddie—in his chest, Steve was moonstruck.

Several years later, after Sir Fluffy was delegated to protect their daughter from nightmares, Steve got himself a new knight in dinosaur pajamas.

(“But I’m a dragon,” Eddie protested.

Steve, already halfway into dreamland, just snuggled up in his husband’s arms and mumbled, “G’night, Sir Edwyn the Dragon.”

Letting out an amused huff, Eddie pressed a fond kiss on his forehead, “Sweet dreams, my treasure.”

Somehow, Steve had ended up seeing a unicorn that night.)

[gremlingottoosilly]

you/your anons have got me hooked on cyberstalker!König so here are some rando headcanons:

-will go through your likes on twitter and grit his teeth if he saw you liked a man/celebrities selfie, god forbid their a male friend because he will spiral into convincing himself that this is like cheating (you two have spoken once) and he has to do something about it

-if he saw you simping for someone casually he would have to step away and let his anger out in the gym because otherwise he would start weighing the pros and cons of murdering Henry Cavill or something

-has a dragons horde of items you liked/expressed interest in because he has a whole plan when he kidnaps you he would offer it as a way to calm you down. this plan is flawless obviously

-you liked a picture of cat ears and a maid outfit ONCE and he has jerked off to that mental image at least 5 times a week

-will try to get into the things you tweet about just to start a conversation but gives up halfway since he doesn't have the best attention span, tells himself that you'll just tell him about it when your together because he could listen to you for hours <3

-that is not hyperbole btw you once posted a video giggling at something your cat was doing and he has put in on in the background as he gets through his day

-has printed your selfies to cum on stare at because he can get headaches if he stares at a phone screen for so long (hes OLD your honor)

-everytime he likes a song/movie you enjoy it fully fuels his delusions that you two are soulmates

-has found your pinterest boards and already has a downpayment on a house that matches your preferred aesthetic perfectly

-kisses the screen when he sees your selfies. nothing to add to that its just something he does

-LOVED when the 'big boy' song went viral and saw you posting about loving it, again, you two are clearly soulmates

i didn't realize how long this is I am so sorry

Omg!! It's literally so perfect, you crawled in my head like a little bug and now you are munching on my brain and I would let you because you are just chill like that. Konig is an old-fashioned stalker who doesn't have time to literally stalk you, he is a busy man with a busy life, so he catches up with your socials instead!! More under the cut

He googles every term he doesn't understand, and reads recaps of whatever show you were watching, just so he could save time on actually watching it. He writes everything in a diary, every little detail because he knows a bit about internet safety from Hutch and he just knows that this precious data is far more protected in the front pocket of his vest, in a tiny and scrawny notebook. He saves every picture and prints it, just to see every tiny detail. Your favorite color, your favorite decorations. You like pink sanrio fluffy style of decor? He doesn't understand it, and don't see a point in just adding to the clutter, but he will buy you as much Hello Kitty and My Melody stuff as possible. Something minimalistic, but expensive? He understands it a bit more, and he is happy to finally use his money for something nice and not just beer. He would be grinning like a cat with the cream if you like video games -- especially the ones he likes, the violent action ones. He can't let go of the war even at home, and having a perfect game when he doesn't actually have to worry about being in danger but putting as many enemies down as possible is nice, really. You would have to explain the point of Minecraft to him though. The celebrity crush one omg!! Konig is insecure because if you like more normal, traditionally attractive male celebrities, he just knows he can't compete. However, there has to be something wrong with you if you really like Konig, so he doesn't mind - after you stop liking those celebs of course. God save you if you have some porn in your twitter likes - he would try to implement it in your sex life. Bondage? He already knows how to make really good knots. Cnc? It's basically your whole sex story already. He would never let you forget about every embarrassing little picture you liked, and he enjoys thinking of you as a perverted thing that needs some good punishment. If you do cosplay...oh boy. Even the most normal costumes are a good jerk-off material for him. Even if you cosplay male characters, he'd find a way to sexualize you -- it's not really nice of him, but this old man finally got what cosplay means and he is not letting go of this knowledge.

His soldiers think you're his wife already because he keeps your photo, a fucking collage of your photos, on his desk and a polaroid of you in his vest pocket. Poor ol' you, having stalking problems and not even knowing about it because he is too busy to actually court you.

[wardenparker]

Hummingbird Has Landed, Epilogue

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: M for Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 4.2k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics, mentioning of pregnancy/babies, family planning, breeding kink* Flirting, baby talk, tooth rotting fluff, Marcus being utterly Marcus. Summary: Ten years after getting married, the inn is seeing a slightly different kind of celebration for an even bigger extended family. Notes: While not indicative in any way of reader's appearance or ethnicity or anything else -- it's worth noting that Alex and David were heavily inspired by Alex and Henry from Red, White, and Royal Blue. So I've used a gif of them for this chapter in tribute.

I am particularly sad to say goodbye to these two, but I will hold their family close to my heart and revisit them frequently 🥰🥰 Next week we're taking a short rest, and Javi's soulmate story Bones Full of Words will start on July 14!

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15 ~ Ch 16 ~ Ch 17 ~ Ch 18

Getting out of the office was a priority today. Rushing to collect his briefcase, Marcus runs through the list of instructions for his assistant, even though he knows she is well aware. “If you need anything, call me. It will probably be loud, but I’ll keep an eye on things.” He promises, ignoring the little eye roll Tara gives him when he glances up.

She sighs slightly. “Like I’m interrupting tonight.” She scoffs, making him grin.

“We’ll be up late, so I’m not coming in until lunch tomorrow.” He reminds her, having blocked out the morning in his calendar months ago.

“No meetings, got it.” She bites her lip. “How did the lunch with the Director go?” She asks, making him hum as he closes the soft leather tooled briefcase bag that Junie had made for eight Christmases ago.

“Tell you tomorrow.” He promises, knowing that will have her fuming at being out of the loop for even twenty-four hours. She huffs and he’s sailing around the desk to grab his suit jacket. “Have a good night!” He calls over his shoulder playfully. “And don’t forget to go vote!”

It didn’t make sense to have the election night party anywhere but the inn. It’s well within Virginia’s 8th Congressional district and a very recognizable landmark across the country — Americans all remember their two term first woman President, and the stories about her children that played out in the media for the eight years she ran the country.

Tonight, the buzz of another election night has the inn — and the family — on high alert.

“Hey sweetheart!” Marcus rushes into the inn, aware that you will be here rather than at the house. “What do I need to help with?”

“Hi honey!” You’re four feet deep in party preparations, while Juan is out back setting up tents in the garden and Sydney is cooking her heart out. Thankfully the inn is totally sold out to people who will be attending tonight’s party, so there aren’t really extra guests to attend to and the restaurant is closed for one night for the occasion. “Junie has all the kids in the front room if you want to go say hi before I put you to work.”

“Of course I do.” His jacket is already coming off, but he leans in to press a kiss to your lips and his hand finds your stomach. “You aren’t working too hard, are you? I tried to get out as soon as I could.”

“I’m working as hard as little Pike will let me.” A soft moment to enjoy a kiss from your husband without all three of your children swarming him when he comes home from work is a blessing, but this third pregnancy is more tumultuous than the last one. “Constance, Holly and Sabrina insisted on construction papers banners to hang at the party and the boys made sugar cookies with red, white, and blue sprinkles earlier in the day” The generation of kids that are growing up together have bonded quickly — with Sydney and Juan’s oldest taking to your and Marcus’s twins, and the younger brothers of both families coming together just as easily. This time it is you and your sister who are pregnant together, and Junie has been unexpectedly enjoying the majority of her pregnancy. Her first has been mild and she has that fantastic glow about her at six months along.

“Good.” Marcus beams as he caresses the barest bump under your breasts. You had insisted you were just gaining a little weight this time but he knew better. “Everyone is excited for tonight. They’ve asked if they can stay up until the speeches.” He warns you with a chuckle. “I’ve already taken the morning off tomorrow.”

“They can stay up a little, but they have school tomorrow.” Which you’ve already told them, of course, but the twins are already learning that giving their Daddy big eyes will get them a whole lot of leeway. “After my mother’s second election, I genuinely thought we were done with this.” It sounds like a complaint, but you laugh softly and shake your head, leaning into your husband’s side in your office. “I guess one of us was bound to end up following in her footsteps.”

“It’s very fitting that it’s Alex.” He slides his hand down to rub the spot on your back that has been giving you the most grief with this last pregnancy. “I cast my vote for him today before lunch.”

“I love that he’s running in our district,” you admit, glowing with that sisterly pride that you’ve been known to show all along your brother’s campaign trail. “That we can actually vote for him. I gave the staff long meal breaks today to go vote. Everybody has their stickers on.”

“I know. But it’s convenient since he and David live one neighborhood over.” He teases, kissing your cheek and winking at you playfully. “Now, how can I help?”

"Go say hi to your kids and then I'll enlist you to help me set up the main sitting room for tonight." Stealing one more kiss before you step away is a challenge only in that you have to limit yourself to one more kiss.

“You got it, sweetheart.” Despite the time and the additional responsibilities, Marcus still feels that fluttering in his stomach every time he kisses you. Stepping away, he opens the door to your office. “Pike posse! Where are you?” He calls out.

"Daddy!" The scream goes up nearly immediately, and three sets of little feet hit the ground running to scramble around the corner into the hallway.

His kids are the most important people in his world, besides you. He immediately drops down, expecting to be tackled and grunts as he absorbs the impact of the three’s enthusiastic greeting.

The twins start talking at him immediately about their day at school, as nine-year-old Holly and Sabrina both aced their geography quizzes and are currently facing the very serious dilemma of picking out books for their next book reports. Six-year-old Matthew is quiet while his sisters command their father's attention, but snuggles into Marcus's side as tightly as possible in the meantime.

His arm winds around Matthew, hugging him close, and he kisses the top of his curly brown head. Giving his full attention to the reasons that he is proud to drink out of the #1 Dad mug that sits on his desk at work every day. “We will find the perfect books this weekend at the bookstore. How does that sound?” Marcus suggests, knowing they will love that.

"YESSSS!" Both girls chant over and over, wiggling out happy dance moves on the spot. This was clearly the outcome they were hoping for.

“And what about you, Matt?” Marcus turns his attention on the quiet little boy that is still clinging to him. “Does that sound like fun?“

The little boy thinks for a second, lips twisted up in concentrated consideration, until he finally nods a little. "Could I...get a crayon book?" The most artistic of your children asks, always favoring coloring books and puzzle books — collectively called crayon books by the first grader — over other activities.

“Absolutely.” The promise is easily made, making sure that he doesn’t feel judged by wanting to color or draw over reading. “We will find a great crayon book, just for you.”

"Do you want to see the banners we made, Daddy?" Sabrina asks eagerly, already about to pull their father into the next room to show him before she can even finish the sentence. "Matty drew stars on them, and I did stripes!"

“Come on bud.�� Marcus hoists Matthew up into his arms as he lets the twins lead him into the main sitting room of the inn. “Oh, it’s great!” He proclaims when he sees the banner on the ground.

"Auntie June said we could put it up over the window!" Holly announces with a toothy grin. One of her top front teeth fell out a few days ago and a bottom tooth has become especially wiggly since then.

“Of course we will.” Marcus agrees. “I’ll hang it up as soon as you show me exactly where.” June will go nowhere near a step ladder, considering her condition and he knows Dylan will be thankful for that. You and June are too much alike, trying to climb on things and give your soulmates heart attacks while carrying the babies.

"I thought it would be best to wait until their helpfully tall father got home," June admits, coming back into the room from the other side — a direction that means she definitely ducked into the kitchen for a snack while the kids were saying hello. "Hi Marcus."

“Hey, June.” Marcus smiles at your younger sister and moves over to give her a quick hug. “I know your husband will be happy.”

"Yeah, yeah," she huffs and rolls her eyes like she hadn't tried to get up on a ladder with a hammer in her own house just three days ago and Dylan had had a fit after walking into the room. "How was your meeting?" She asks more quietly, tilting her head at her brother-in-law when her niblings aren't paying attention.

“It was…enlightening.” Marcus grins and shrugs, not willing to say too much right now. Today isn’t about him. “How was Charlie the horse, today?”

"My star patient is recovering marvelously." June's veterinary practice has unexpectedly become primarily focused on horses and small amounts of domestic livestock along with the usual dogs and cats, and she is thriving being an on-demand vet that makes house calls around their corner of Virginia. "He was trotting around very happily by the time I left today."

“Hopefully you are letting Marcy do all the heavy lifting with the animal?” Her vet tech is a wonderful woman who has aspirations of becoming a veterinarian herself, once she can complete the schooling. It had been a reassurance to Dylan to have her there with Junie as she made house calls.

“It helps that Marcy is also taller and stronger than me,” June admits with a laugh. “I’m behaving, Marcus. I promise.”

“Good.” He gives her a pointed look. “I know how the women in your family operate.” He reminds her. “Your sister nearly made me crazy with the twins.”

“Juan had to wrestle her away from the porch decorations earlier,” June tells him with a knowing smirk. “I think carrying twins makes her feisty.”

Marcus’s eyes widen slightly and his mouth drops open. “Carrying?” He chokes out.

"Oh shoot." June's eyes dart over to the kids, who have already set out at creating a chain of construction paper links in red, white, and blue to go with their banner. When she looks back at Marcus, she shoves him and grins. "Go talk to your wife, but do not tell her I spilled the beans."

“I—” he fumbles for something to say, but he can’t. Just turning around and immediately moving back towards the office. Happy the kids are occupied again so he can talk to you.

"Hey." His familiar shadow in your doorway makes you stand again, and you pick up a stack of papers that you had meant to bring home yesterday to look over before you think better of it and put them down again. Tonight is just election night. Tomorrow you'll deal with personal news and other business. That's what you had decided, even though you're almost vibrating with your own good news tonight. "Did the kids show you their banner? Holly is extremely proud of how straight her stripes are."

“They did.” Marcus nods as he closes the door behind him. Walking over to you and pulling you in for a more prolonged kiss, one that he pours himself into.

It isn't that Marcus never takes the time to kiss you breathless, but you hadn't expected it today and certainly not right now, so you end up both wrapped in his arms and boneless against him as you sink into the kiss until you're both breathless. "What was that for?" You breathe, when he finally pulls away again.

“I’m just…happy.” He nuzzles his nose against yours gently and kisses you again. “So fucking happy, hummingbird.”

"Does this mean your meeting went well?" You ask, arms twining around his waist and beaming at him.

“It was good.” He smiles back at you and sighs softly. “But that’s not important right now.”

"Your meeting...with the Director of the FBI...isn't important right now?" That doesn't make any sense to you at all, and you pull back a little to look Marcus over and frown. "Was it...not about what you thought?"

“It was.” Marcus admits, knowing that the idea of it has changed in the past two minutes. “I think I might turn it down.”

"What? Why?" That definitely isn't the response you were expecting from him. Not when he's been edging his way toward this one last promotion for years now.

“It would be a lot of hours.” He reminds you softly, leaning in and kissing you again. “We are about to have another baby.” He wants you to tell him, not have it come out that he knows. Hating now that he had missed the appointment because of a department meeting. You had assured him it was okay to miss one and now he has missed something important.

"You've worked so hard for this," you remind him gently. "This is your literal life's work. Your entire career. I don't want you to give up the chance to see that through. We always planned on a big family, that shouldn't stop you from accepting a promotion." Once glance down between you at your growing belly makes you sigh softly and you lean up to kiss him again. "I was going to save these until tomorrow...but do you want to see the ultrasound photos from this morning?"

“Not unless you don’t want me to.” Marcus would love nothing more, but he also doesn’t want to pressure you.

“I had a silly idea that tonight was going to be all about Alex, and nothing else.” From behind you, you reach into your desk drawer and pull out an untouched envelope of photos to hand to Marcus. “But this is important. Just like your work is important. Our lives are our family and our careers, and we’ve worked really hard to keep the balance.”

“I know.” Marcus assures you, not taking the photos but he drags his hands up and down your arms soothingly. “The director is retiring next month and wants to appoint me as the acting director as a trial run to being named Director of the FBI.”

“That’s…that’s incredible, baby. I’m so proud of you.” Pride in your partner, of how hard he works and how much he has accomplished, sticks in your throat and make your voice crack a little. If you’re a little teary while you beam at him and pull him in tightly for a hug? Well, that’s pride too but also a dash of pregnancy hormones. His thoughts of retiring early were thrown to the back burner when he got set on the fast-track of promotion after promotion. He’s been the Assistant Director of the FBI for almost four years already. “You deserve it, love. You work so hard and you deserve everything.”

“I don’t know about that.” He knows there have been sacrifices for his job, there always have been. But he’s worked hard to balance life and work. “This, our family is the most important thing in my life.”

“And I love how dedicated you are to us.” Your eyes track away from his just long enough to find the envelope again, and you smile. “You should look at the photos, love.”

He takes the envelope from you and swallows. “I wish I could have been there.” He murmurs, pulling out the sonogram photos and immediately tearing up. “Another set of twins.” He chokes out. “My babies.”

“We both got good news today.” If you’re honest, you had guessed it would be twins even before the doctor confirmed it. It felt the same as the first time you were pregnant. Intense morning sickness and faintness with an equally intense feeling of giddiness. Even the cravings have been similar so far.

He practically giggles and swoops you into another hug and kiss. Elated that you are happy about the news and he will never be unhappy about more kids. “I love you.”

“I love you too, honey.” Your hands on his cheeks are warm and doting, and your thumbs sweep over his cheekbones as you grin. “Whatever you decide is your path, the kids and I will be here to love you and be so proud of you.”

“I’m going to take it.” The idea of being able to pad the college savings for the kids is important. “But, the second it doesn’t work with having five kids, I’ll retire.”

“It’s your decision to make.” The way you nod — emphatic and beaming with pride — has you in giggles all over again. “Director Pike.”

“It’s our decision.” He reminds you, although he’s also grinning. “Nothing comes before you and the kids.”

“Tonight I’m afraid that can’t be true.” But you steal one more eager, excited kiss from him anyway. “It’s Alex’s night. And we should get out there and help with finishing the decorations before Juan comes and hunts us down.”

“Yes we should.” He can’t help but press a kiss to your lips again. “I love you so much, Hummingbird.”

No one eats quite the way congressional staffers do in the week leading up to elections, and Alex’s electoral team is no exception. The buffet that Sydney and her team put out is refilled a second time before things calm down, and the team is watching votes roll in on laptops, phone screens, and the big TVs all around the inn. Some folks are outside, where a little bit of a party is starting to brew as Alex’s lead in the polls becomes clearer and clearer. You, your siblings, the soulmates, and your parents are all piled into the front sitting room together with the big TV turned on and Alex’s campaign director is hustling back and forth between groups of people.

“They haven’t called it yet.” Alex hums, twisting his hands in his husband’s. He’s nervous and jittery and touching David seems to help him calm down. “The fourth and seventh district polls aren’t in yet.”

"I know, baby." David lets his husband's restless hands move in his as much as they need, standing steady as his rock while Alex gets his nerves out. "But look at what is in. We don't need every single vote for you to win, just a few more percentage points and you can put the finished touches on your acceptance speech."

“Ohhhh don’t jinx me.” Alex huffs, leaning over and closing his eyes as his head rests against David’s shoulder. “I don’t want to count my chickens.”

"Ba-gock." Junie deadpans the sound of a chicken as another district reports their numbers.

"Alex." Your hands are on his shoulders instantly. "Alex, look!" You insist, pointing to the screen. "Two percent more and you've got it!"

“Oh god, oh god, I’m gonna be sick.” He moans, eyes wide and he has to lean forward. “You never told me how bad this part of running is, mom.” He groans to the former President, currently sitting in her husband’s lap on the nearby sofa.

"And scare you off?" She laughs, unbothered and unworried for him. She knows he has this in hand, even if he doesn't. "Never, Al."

“Evil.” He huffs, making everyone else laugh. They’ve always had faith in him, maybe more than he’s had in himself and he knows that he wouldn’t be here without each and every one of you. “Distract me with something. Anything. Good news.” He begs, looking around the group.

You and Marcus exchange glances, and Junie clears her throat loudly. "Birdie went to the doctor today," she says loudly enough that there's no pretending it isn't the thing everyone has zeroed in on right away.

Marcus squeezes your hand and grins, unable to hide his delight. “And?” Alex demands, lifting his head instantly and looking over at you. “My latest niece or nephew?” He asks, thinking that the sex was determined.

"We just confirmed that I'm even pregnant again," you laugh, shaking your head at the question. You and Marcus probably stretched it a little going for your first doctor's appointment this time around, but you weren't really in a hurry when the signs were so clear — and so was the pharmacy test that you took. "But...we can tell you that the Pike genetics are strong." The grin that spreads across your face is broad. "It's twins."

Everyone gasps and starts celebrating. None of them are surprised, Selena just had twins last year, but they are happy. Alex jumps up, diving towards you to hug you. “God, I can’t believe it.” He whispers in your ear. “I’m so happy for you.”

"We'll have you kissing babies on the reelection circuit in no time." Though you hug your brother tightly, your eyes are on the television screen behind him. The announcement had taken your family's focus away from the campaign entirely, and that was apparently the magic touch necessary for more results to come pouring in. "Congressman." You poke his side slightly and nudge him back. "Alex, look."

“What?” His head whips around and his eyes bug out when he sees that they are declaring him the winner. The phones that have all been gathered on the coffee table immediately start ringing. “Oh my god.” He whispers. “Oh my god. I won!”

"You won!" David cries in turn, not that he had doubted his husband for a second, but so startled by the timing that he's thrown up his hands in the process.

“I won!” Alex lets you go, nearly jumping on David to kiss him. “I won!”

The room erupts in cheers, chatters, and rising voices that verge on shouting as more and more of Alex's campaign staff barrel in from the back garden. "Other direction!" You call, laughing when the room has filled but there are still more people who want to come in. "Back outside! Party goes back outside!"

It takes a moment, but the room clears and the garden is filled with the sounds of cheering and claps, whistles and exuberant celebrations. It’s been a long campaign season and they deserve to be happy for what they helped accomplish.

"I just want to say." Standing on the porch with a whole garden full of people, Alex stands with David at his side and glows. The pride of a well-run campaign and the excitement of a victory give him the same glow that you remember seeing your mother have over and over again, each election night of your childhood.

"I just want to say..." he repeats, laughing a little when it takes a few moments for everyone to quiet down. "My absolute most heartfelt 'thank you's." Everyone roars to life again with cheers and applause but only for a second. "We ran a campaign with integrity, transparency, and a whole lot of promises. Now the real work begins. Now we have to keep those promises, and build the good will with our constituents that will keep us moving forward. But tonight?" He takes David's hand, grateful to have his husband and soulmate there as his anchor. "Tonight we celebrate!"

Marcus holds you close, his hands on your shoulders as he watches his brother-in-law hug all the staff that have tirelessly worked to make tonight reality. “We are all damn lucky.” He murmurs in your ear.

"Hell yes we are." Turning around in his arms, you wrap your arms around your husband's waist and look up at him with a bright smile. "In every way, baby."

The sounds of celebration are loud enough to wake the dead, but the kids are zonked out in the third-floor apartment where they had finally given up trying to stay awake. Everyone’s kids are piled into the bed and having a sleepover even though it’s a school night. Your brother just won his election and will go on to become a beloved representative for his district. Marcus is slotted to become the Director of the FBI, a very important role that he had never originally let himself dream of.

Your inn is one of the best in the D.C. area and constantly packed, and most importantly, your pregnancy is proceeding nicely. It’ll be the last one, Marcus has already scheduled having a vasectomy done after the babies are born. He just hasn’t told you yet.

“Give it another ten years and he’ll be the first gay president.” Marcus predicts with a smile. “Despite what comes, I do know one thing.” The love he carries for you every day is shining through his eyes. “Our lives are amazing and I am so thankful to be here with you.” He promises. “Hummingbird has landed.” He tells you, using the code that had been used when you first met to signify that everything is just as it should be.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog@haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime@vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

HHL: @haileymorelikestupid @anoverwhelmingdin @storiesofthefandomlovers @missladym1981 @babeincolor @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

My Masterlist!

[lizziela]

Instagram AU - Aaron Hotchner - Part 4

y/n_l/n

y/n_l/n: I was looking through some Aaron's old albums and found those!!! You guys look so cute!! @/ladypen_garcia @/aarhotchner @/jjjareau @/em_prent

rossidave: nostalgic are we?!

derekm: those are GOLD!! Looking good girls!

em_prent: when was it??? We look so young!

ladypen_garcia: @/em_prent I believe it was when you got to BAU? We look young and I was blond at the time!

jjjareau: @/ladypen_garcia and the other you were red... probably before I had to leave...

aarhotchner: those were good times!

y/n_l/n: @/aarhotchner and what about now?

aarhotchner: @/y/n_l/n it's even better!!

aarhotchner

aarhotchner: Bowie found a new pillow

y/n_l/n: he left my whole body NUMB! How is it possible???

drreid: @/y/n_l/n he probably was blocking a few blood vessels and didn't let the blood flow properly

y/n_l/n: @/drreid but it was my whole body

drreid: @/y/n_l/n then you are probably dying :/

y/n_l/n: @/drreid '-'

y/n_l/n

y/n_l/n: and Jack loved every minute (this kid loves water, I swear he was a fish in another life)

aarhotchner: and got enough money to buy even more spider-man legos

rossidave: would he be interested for a few hundred bucks?

y/n_l/n: @/rossidave IF JACK'S NOT, I AM!

em_prent: @/y/n_l/n @/rossidave and so am I!!

y/n_l/n

y/n_l/n: Bowie loves him so much. He cries when Jack goes to another room!

aarhotchner: they are best friends!

ladypen_garcia: I love them so much! They are soulmates!

y/n_l/n: @/ladypen_garcia yes, they are!

aarhotchner

aarhotchner: memories from our last trip!

y/n_l/n: Our brave Jackers! He was afraid, but he didn't let his fear get in the way!!

derekm: That's my man! Congrats, Jack!!

jjjareau: Now Henry is asking to go the next time! He misses his friend!

y/n_l/n: @/jjjareau and Jackers misses Henry very much!

aarhotchner

aarhotchner: I'm sorry, darling, but he loves me more!

y/n_l/n: just because you are warm!!

ladypen_garcia: Not Bowie preferring Boss Man over our Lovely Honey! 😭😭

em_prent: Love Bowie, but this is pure betrayal!

y/n_l/n: @/em_prent I know!!! How could he do this to me?? I am the one that wakes up everyday 6a.m to give him food!!

y/n_l/n

y/n_l/n: the betrayal, pt 2.

ladypen_garcia: be careful, this could be @/y/n_l/n start of her villain arc...

aarhotchner: I love you, babe!

y/n_l/n: @/aarhotchner I love you too, but that's MY dog!

y/n_l/n

y/n_l/n: I don't have words to describe what I felt after the movie night ended with this surprise! Jackers giggled the whole movie even when it wasn't that funny, Aaron was so fidget by my side! And how did you train Bowie to do this? He was so concentrated!

I know how this night took so many weeks to prepare... and between the beautiful ring and the planning and execution of this day?? I just know that I chose the right man.

I love you, Hotchner! I can wait to finally have you last name!

aarhotchner: I hope this is a Yes!

y/n_l/n: @/aarhotchner Yes, a thousand times yes!

ladypen_garcia: OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD!!! I call dibs as maid of honour!

y/n_l/n: @/ladypen_garcia don't worry, Penny!!

jjjareau: Congratulations, Hotch and L/n!!

rossidave: Right on time!

derekm: Finally, I was getting worried about the ring staying at his desk drawer forever!

y/n_l/n: @/derekm For how long he kept it there?

derekm: @/y/n_l/n since before that Arizona case... It has been a while. But I'm sure he was waiting for the perfect moment!

em_prent: Congratulations to the best couple!!!

drreid: Congratulations!!

Hey!! It has been some time... Writers block and all that!

But I hope you like it!!

As always: the images are from Pinterest

taglist

@nescavaneck

[hercynianforest]

Reasons why Mileven drama/breakup and Byler endgame in ST5 are unlikely

Looking at the whole show, we can see two constants regarding these relationships:

-Mike and El keep overcoming external and internal obstacles, and always end up together again

-Will's homosexuality is hinted at from the start, as well as his deep feelings for Mike.

Regarding the latter, this creates the expectation to have Will accept his own feelings and then his friends do the same.

In S4, it's clear that we got the first. Will's monologue didn't achieve the coming out, but he did express his love for Mike, albeit disguising it as El's feelings. He basically sacrificed himself in order to support Mike, who in turn was able to support El, who then managed to (barely) save Max.

Based on that, I think we have two possible scenarios for S5:

-Will won't confess his love to Mike openly. He has accepted that Mike and El love each other, and we see him having moved on from this right from the beginning of the season. His coming out as gay will still happen though, and Mike's acceptance of that will be crucial for Will.

-Will will confess to Mike that he's in love with him - I'm thinking of the close-up of his face during Mike's monologue in S4, when he says "And somehow I thought telling you how I felt would make that day hurt more." Will clearly feels the same way, but maybe hearing Mike confess this to El gives him the courage to confess it to Mike as well.

No matter which scenario we'll get, I think the focus will be on Mike's acceptance of Will's homosexuality, on him being different, but Mike making him feel better for it. It's possible that Mike might mess it up, not knowing what to say, but no doubt he will be accepting of Will's sexuality, and I think this will give power to Will to be freely himself (and maybe kick some butt).

However, from a storytelling perspective, I really don't see Mike suddenly realising he loves Will and not El. It would be extremely bad writing, because they have been telling us that Mike and El love each other since they first met in S1.

If they had not planned for them to be endgame, they would have sunken the ship already. There were plenty of opportunities. But what we got instead were relationship issues and them being able to work through these issues.

Mike not being very articulate at telling El how he feels about her has also been a constant since S1. However, this finally got resolved at the end of S4.

That's why I think that ST5 will start of with a strenghtened bond between them and their love won't be tested any more.

Mike finally told her how much he loves her, El has no more reason to doubt him. Mike doing a 180 degree turn and realising he lied to El would be equal to creating a new character for Mike. It also would spit on everything they took the pain to show us of Mike and El's love during the whole show.

From a storytelling perspective, this would be total self-sabotage. Why waste a whole series to tell viewers that two characters are in love and then saying "Surprise! It was a lie all along!"? What would be achieved by that?

If it had been their goal to show us that romantic feelings can change, then they would have had to tell a completely different story and would have sowed the seeds for doubt from the very beginning. Instead we got nothing but soulmatism for Mike and Eleven (including their relationship issues, because they overcame those).

Also, remember that this story is about defeating the big evil with love. El is the super-hero. Destroying her biggest source of power (love) would make it impossible for her to win against anyone.

Apart from all this, considering everything that needs to be wrapped up in S5, there simply is not enough time to have Will confess to Mike, Mike figuring out his new feelings, getting up the courage to tell El, the drama of breaking up the main ship of the show, have El get over it, establish Mike and Will as a couple, get all their friends' support, AND defeat Henry.

This is why they resolved Mike and El's conflict in S4. Because there won't even be time for their established relationship to have any drama. This is why they already showed us that Will accepts and supports Mike and El's love, so the love triangle situation has been resolved as well.

The only thing left to resolve is Will's coming out to his friends, which doesn't need to take up a lot of time. It could be one or two scenes.

[piratefalls]

another long list, except it's a day early because this is how i give thanks.

list one. list two. list three. list four. list five.

No Sense or Sensibility by inexplicablymine

“When and where was your first kiss.” Oh shit. The thing is… Alex actually has an answer to this one, it’s just a matter of admitting that it happened. ____________________ Kennedy’s. 7pm, Pub Quiz and Ice Cream. Every Monday ‘til death due us part. Alex liked his little routine, until Derryl got it in his head to host The goddamn Newlywed Game instead.

I'm Rememberin' I Promised (to Forget you Now) by Angelwithwingsoffire

It's been six years since Alex Claremont-Diaz graduated law school. And he's made a good life for himself, working with a firm he enjoys and making a difference in the world. Until a part of his past he'd thought he'd gotten over seven years ago walked back into his office asking for his help. To get a divorce. Which Alex has never done before. But he's never been able to say no, and he's willing to put his heart back under the bus for the chance at one more smile.

Rogue's Gallery by OrchidScript

Loathe as Alex was to admit it, Henry Fox was going to be a legend someday. He already was in the bureau depending on who was answering. Tied to art theft, jewel theft, one or two little sweet confidence schemes, and an alleged counterfeit Super Bowl ring, but caught on three counts of art forgery, the blond Brit had run circles around the Art Crimes division for six years. He was quick, smarter than the average bear, and more detail-oriented than a nuclear chemist. He had a penchant for nice suits, silk ties, and gin tonics with lime. He wrote letters to agents in taunting poetry, tucking them under windshield wipers or posting them to the office directly. Once, he managed to drop one directly into the pocket of a plainclothes officer without them seeing his face. _____________________ Henry Fox is a famous art forger, and Alex is the FBI agent who caught him three years ago. When one of Henry's aliases comes up attached to a new case, can the two put aside their cat-and-mouse past to put the copycat away?

Queer little ducks hold a special place in my heart. by anarchyat4am

Henry’s at a local Hispanic Heritage Month event browsing the art stalls when his gaze catches on a kid looking around with both purpose and nervousness. She’s fidgeting with the hem of her t-shirt with one hand while she bites the nails of the other one, eyes alert and searching. Lost, then. And oh, Henry recognises her. She’s a regular at his bookstore, even at only six years old, and is there at least weekly with her dad—Alex, who she’d introduced to Henry as her papi—or various aunties and uncles, most of whom Henry doesn’t think are actually related to her. Keeping one eye on her, he lets his gaze sweep the vicinity but doesn’t see anyone else he even remotely recognises. Shit. He has to do something. “Sirena?” he calls gently. * Henry... is more than a bit useless around hot guys. So when he finds the lost kid of the gorgeous dad who frequents his bookstore, he pulls himself together until they reunite, only to then be devastated by the revelation that the man thinks Henry hates him. And, well... courage always rises, and all that.

just say you won't let go by viciouslyqueer

After dancing around each other for months, Alex and Henry finally get together. The morning after comes with a slight misunderstanding and comforting words.

We were supposed to find this by kiwiana

Still, half an hour after shaking Prince Henry’s hand for the first time, he finds himself back in his hotel room with one shoe and sock hurriedly tugged off and his right foot resting on his left knee. Just to check. Just in case Alex is somehow, by some miracle, about to become the first documented case of Surprise! You Can Totally Have A Different Soulmate, We Fucked Up And Your One Kind Of Sucks. No such luck. The words are the same as they’ve always been, etched into his skin in a careful, calligraphic font. The kind of handwriting someone might have if, for example, they came from the sort of family that valued tradition and etiquette far higher than letting their children write like normal human beings.

Sit. Down. Please Stay. by politics_and_prose

Alex adopts a dog he found abandoned on the side of the road. She's nervous and he wants to make sure he knows how to give her the best life possible. Enter Henry Fox and his beagle David.

muscle memory by stutteringpeach

It's been ten years since Alex was in London to stage a PR friendship with Henry after ruining the royal wedding. It's also been ten years since Alex dropped to his knees in front of Henry in a Kensington Palace kitchen. But now Henry's in the Hamptons for the summer, and who should he bump into? None other than Alex Claremont-Diaz, who happens to be working in New York all summer long.

The Perils of Midsomer Residency by clottedcreamfudge

"I'm sure I don't need to tell you that care should be taken, given the Mountchristens' local influence?" Liam nods. "Sir." Luna then turns to Alex. "Do not piss anyone in that family off." Alex throws his hands in the air. "So many aspersions have been cast on my good character this morning that I could start a fucking farm. An aspersions farm." Luna narrows his eyes. "Correction," he says, "have another coffee and then do not piss anyone in that family off. Don't make me regret fast-tracking you through the ICI Development Programme." * After getting shot in the line of duty back in Texas, June forces Alex into a change of scenery. Because how much can really be going on in the quaint little English county of Midsomer?

something that feels like forever by dearestalez

“You’re crying,” she pointed out. Alex choked on a laugh, wiping his eyes. “I’m just-” he sniffed, holding her so delicately Henry felt herself melt into the touch. “I’m so happy for you, baby.” — alex and henry are so in love it makes me want to rip out my heart and stomp on it but slash pos

behind brick walls by weather_stained

After Henry and Alex move in together, it takes quite a while for them to fully adjust to their newfound freedom. Alex very much enjoys watching Henry grow more comfortable in his own skin after a lifetime of looking over his shoulder.

It's a (Birth)date by Celaestis

5 times Henry is oblivious that they're dating and 1 time he isn't.

Save a Horse, Ride a Princess by affectionatelyrs

“I have to say, this is all quite literal, don’t you think?” Alex wouldn’t know literal right now if it hit him in the head. “Huh?” Henry points at Alex: “Pillow Princess,” and then to himself: “Cowboy. Ready to ride and all that.” Alex nods dumbly. “Right.” - Or, Alex and Henry dress up as the ultimate couples costume for Halloween — themselves — and they both feel some kind of way about it

baby boy by smc_27

It starts as a joke. Alex taking the piss about how much money Henry has. How he could have anything he wanted, from anyone he wanted, if only he just asked.

My Songs Know Secrets You're Sick of Keeping by ma_lark_ey, paythe_piper

"How about this," Alex offered, "If I win AOTY, I announce Henry and I in my acceptance speech. If I don't, we do it your way." OR: Alex is a world famous pop punk star, Henry is still the Prince of England, and the public is onto them.

Au Naturel by cmere

The French doors leading to the office are thrown open, so he has a moment to take in the scene in front of him: Alex, lying on his stomach on the floor, feet kicked up and crossed at the ankle, surrounded by books, papers, and two open laptops. None of that, however, catches Henry's attention as much as Alex's hair, secured in a small, messy knot on top of his head with nothing but a single wooden chopstick. Henry blinks rapidly several times. "Alex," Henry says, somehow hoarse. Alex's head whirls around. There's a single, perfectly curled tendril over the apple of his cheek; his scruff has hit the mystical, magical point where it's more soft beard than prickly shadow; his reading glasses sit atop his adorable nose; and Henry realizes with sudden gravity that he's not entirely in control of his physical responses anymore—something has to give. Alex hasn't really been bothering with some of his usual upkeep, and Henry is kind of extremely into it.

You deserve my love by whateveridk

“I’ll leave as soon as you tell me to." Henry had turned towards him, stealing himself, sticking his chin out, and said “leave.” Alex has been picking up the pieces ever since. Two years later, living with Nora and June in NYC, it still haunts him, but it's fine. Whatever, he is fine. And then... Breaking News: Prince Henry comes out as gay So it's not fine, Alex is not fine.

sex ed in 6 steps by coffeecatsme

“Please tell me you used a condom, Fox,” Alex drawls out, leaning against the wall, and Henry chokes on his next breath.“Excuse me?”“You’re gonna tell me all about this tomorrow, but for the love of God, tell me you used a condom and we won’t have mini Henrys on campus anytime soon.” Or, 5 times Alex thinks Henry's straight and 1 time he finds out the truth. Or, 5 times Alex jokes about Henry's sex life and 1 time he gets to be a part of it.

More Than A Makeover by everwitch

The Fab Five—Alex, June, Nora, Liam and Spencer—descend on a New York based shelter for disenfranchised queer youth to give the place a much needed makeover. As the week progresses, sparks start to fly between Alex, the culinary representative of the queertastic quintet, and Henry, the sweetly charming founder of the shelter. It’s a deeply emotional week full of unexpected realizations, and certainly a week that strengthens Henry’s friendship with Pez in ways that neither of them quite knew they needed. As the week comes to a close and the Queer Eye team say their goodbyes, it remains to be seen what will become of the warm connection between Alex and Henry. Will it last, or was it too much of a perfect miracle to ever grow into something real?

The Royal Wedding by DracoWillHearAboutThis

HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS PRINCE HENRY OF WALES AND MR ALEXANDER CLAREMONT-DIAZ ARE ENGAGED TO BE MARRIED HM Queen Mary is delighted to announce the engagement of Prince Henry to Mr. Alexander Claremont-Diaz. The wedding will take place in the Spring or Summer of 2025, in London. Further details about the wedding date will be announced in due course.  Prince Henry and Mr. Claremont-Diaz became engaged earlier this week during a private holiday in Paris. Prince Henry has informed The Queen and other close members of his family. Prince Henry has sought and received the blessings of Mr. Claremont-Diaz's parents.  The couple will live in Nottingham Cottage at Kensington Palace. 

A Toast to the Night by allmylovesatonce

Henry looks up from his drink and swears his jaw drops. Standing in front of him is one of the most beautiful men he’s ever seen. From his dark brown curls to the way his deep eyes gleam as he stands there, an awkward smile on his face. Henry is nearly sure this man is going to ask for his seat. He probably has some woman with him, scouring for a place to sit. “Uh, hi,” the man says. “Hi.” “Look, this is really awkward,” he says and Henry feels the confirmation in his gut — also maybe disappointment. “My ex-boyfriend just walked in and I really don’t want to talk to him. I was wondering if I could sit here with you so that he won’t talk to me.”

That's What You Get For Waking Up in Vegas by bleedingballroomfloor

The bartender slides Alex the whiskey and shot of water before turning her attention to the person behind him. He turns around at the same time as the person speaks, “Gin and tonic” in all rounded vowels, a distinct English accent shining through, and he swears his heart stops. “Holy shit,” Alex says before he can stop the words from slipping out of his mouth. “Henry?” When Alex is celebrating June and Nora's bachelorette party in Vegas, the last person he expects to see is his ex-boyfriend Henry, who moved back to London nearly a year ago. Waking up next to him the following morning, naked and sated with a marriage certificate poking out of his pocket, he starts to wonder if he's truly over Henry.

hang on 'til the chaos is through by ShyAudacity

David is lounging on his spot at the foot of the bed when Alex comes in. He opts not to turn on the light, not wanting to disturb Henry, but then quickly finds that the light is on in their bathroom. Henry must still be getting cleaned up before bed; Alex can say hello and check on Henry when he steps out. It’s weird that he’s still up. Henry was awake well before Alex was this morning and… come to think of it, Alex can’t remember him ever coming to bed last night. Alex has only made it through the top three buttons on his dress shirt when he hears a terrifying crash come from the bathroom. Clutching his chest, he steps towards their shared bathroom, afraid to see what’s on the other side. “Henry? …H, what was-.” Alex stops short in the doorway, startled to find the love of his life in a miserable heap on the bathroom floor.

Sad Again (Don't Tell My Boyfriend) by lucy_in_the_sky

After proposing to Alex, Henry writes a letter to his father reflecting on all the moments he’ll never get to share with him. AKA Alex comforts a mourning Henry and promises to be there for him, forever and always.

monster mash by matherine

None of Henry’s answers to “Who are you supposed to be?” are particularly funny to anyone but him, especially in his inebriated state, so he’s completely given up on making any sense when the latest person asks him, someone who he assumes is yet another sorority girl in a skimpy costume from the glimpse of a cheerleading skirt he gets while they brush past him to open the fridge. “George Villiers,” he offers. “Deep cut, England,” a decidedly male voice snorts, and Henry can’t help the way his head snaps up, eyes wide.

Take it Down Low / Make Me Get High by Mags (sparklepocalypse)

“Henry,” Alex rasps wonderingly, sounding almost entranced, “I want to eat your ass.” Henry’s train of thought screeches to a halt with such force that for a moment, he thinks he might’ve had a stroke.

how did a middle-class divorcé do it? by Time_Sequence

Not really concerned, Alex watched the typing bubble appear – disappear – appear again, like Henry couldn’t quite find the words to say what it was he was thinking. Most likely, he was trying to find the perfect sarcastic quip in response. What came through made him genuinely pause. HRH Prince Dickhead💩: You complete and utter moron Then, HRH Prince Dickhead💩: Royalty can’t marry divorcees If Alex had been having a good time before, he definitely wasn’t now. - When a joking interview reveals that Alex and Nora drunkenly married ten years ago, suddenly Alex's upcoming wedding to Prince Henry is jeopardised.

discreet packaging by demigodbeautiies

“Please, please, please explain to me,” Zahra says, finally, sounding more than a little bit long-suffering. “Why I had to have the head of the Secret Service sit me down and tell me to give you a talk about avoiding bomb scares with unidentifiable packaging.”

the world watched (and the world smiled) by fangirl6202

"Oh,” Alex says finally, faintly, touching one hand to his lips. Then: “Shit.”  His mind catches up then, realizing that Henry is walking away and he doesn't even think twice. He begins to quite literally chase after him, trying to get to him before he can get away or, God forbid, try to fly back to England and ghost him.   Henry is very pointedly not looking at him, stuttering apology over apology until Alex has to quite literally throw himself in front of him to get him to stop. Alex doesn’t know what to do. But the answer is simple, isn’t it? So fucking simple.   He takes Prince Fucking Charming’s lapels into his hand and kisses him back.  Or; it's New Years, and Henry stays.

Rabbit Hole by TuppingLiberty

Some sort of non-famous au, don't worry, there's not really a plot. Alex has been going down a research rabbit hole for hours and Henry comes to rescue him.

Let Loose Your Glow by athousandrooms

“Seems like my liege was caught in a situation where he’d rather the ground swallow him whole.” Pez nods towards a spot to the side, and Alex follows his gaze. He spots Henry easily – a tall lighthouse of tousled blond hair – talking to a girl who is clearly into him. His expression looks perfectly polite, but he’s subtly leaning away, and he looks tense. So, Alex makes an impulsive decision. Whatever happens, this is going to be fun. *** Or: Alex is so very definitely straight, so pretending to be Henry’s boyfriend to get him out of an awkward situation should just be a fun little pastime - except that he doesn't really want to stop, and he has no idea why. But maybe it's okay to not think too hard and let himself go with the flow, for once.

Things I Cannot Accept by SprigsofViolets

In 2016, Ellen Claremont lost the presidential election. In 2019, Alex Claremont-Diaz is not the first son of the United States, so he’s shocked when his path crosses with Prince Henry for the first time in almost four years.

How well you play...that's up to you by happinessofthepursuit

Treacherous (adjective) guilty of or involving betrayal or deception; (of ground, water, conditions, etc.) hazardous because of presenting hidden or unpredictable dangers. Or, how to describe surgical residency in a single word. A Grey's Anatomy inspired AU.

In Accord by absoluteaudacity

Pursuant to the establishment of an ongoing relationship between The Crown and the Office of the President of the United States, the representatives of the The Queen and Her interests are authorised to establish a contract of marriage between His Royal Highness Prince Henry of Wales and Alexander Claremont-Diaz.

A Heart Even More Your Own by chaa_kiao

“Guess you’ll be writing those poems after all.” He swallows. "I should go." Henry’s mind— every part of him, really— his heart, his body, his fucking soul— is screaming at him to take it all back. To hell with the monarchy, the American presidency, damn it all. This is the man he’s spent his entire life loving and he’s throwing it away for a legacy he doesn’t give a single fuck about. He forces out a rough “I think so,” but he can’t hear it over the ringing in his ears. “I love you.” “Alex—” “I know,” Alex says. “I just had to say it.” _______ Or: Alex and Henry getting back together takes a little bit longer this time.

you are my mountain (you are my sea) by alasse

Five times Alex and Henry have important conversations in houses, and one time they have a very important conversation in a castle.

Down For the Count by LolaLand (Lola_di_Penates)

Alex came to Las Vegas to count cards, not feelings. Henry came to win it all. Is it possible to find something real in Sin City, where nearly everything isn’t as it seems? OR Goodbye reality, hello Vegas (the blackjack/poker AU).

Let Them Eat Cake by rohruh

“I wanna eat you out,” Alex’s voice comes out raspy and intrepid through the phone pressed against Henry’s ear. Henry lets out a soft whine at the admission, his breath up-ticking in synchrony with his hips as he thrusts up into his hand. “I’d like that,” he tells Alex eagerly, cradling the phone in his palm as though he could materialize Alex right there in front of him if he presses it against his ear firmly enough. “I’ve never done it to a guy before,” Alex confesses. “Is it… different from eating out a girl? I bet you’d taste so good, baby. Fuck.”

A Thousand Words by Thunder_Cakes

After that Han/Leia mural both their accounts go silent for a while. For months, actually. They’re both in therapy after Alex tried to post a selfie with June after election night and had a panic attack before he could hit “Share.” Suddenly the thought of sharing the details of his life and loved ones with the world is paralyzing. Wonder why. or: Alex, Henry and what they choose to share of their life

All for a Taste of the Honey by chamel

“So you’re telling me you’re not in favor of this plan,” Henry says eventually. “No, I’m fucking not,” Alex huffs, glaring at him. “It’s stupid and dangerous and unnecessary.” Henry cocks one perfect eyebrow at him. “You have another idea for how to get access to the room where he does his deals? The one that only ever admits Vega, his associates, and the strippers who entertain them?” (Or, an FBI agent!Stripper!Henry fic. Henry goes undercover at a strip club, and Alex has a lot of feelings about that.)

in the mood for... by carzla

Henry knows that he’s the one who said “casual”, and it had been a reminder to himself that that was all it could ever be between him and Alex. So, telling Alex that they should “make love” is probably a mistake in syntax bigger than he could safely afford. But they’re in Paris and Henry is feeling terribly, terribly maudlin.

something good and right and real by HypnosTheory

“This is pretty expensive for a high school trinket.” “Everything is bigger in Texas,” Alex jokes. Henry looks up at Alex, who’s standing with his shoulders relaxed for the first time since October. The relief of his mother’s victory has made him loose-limbed and calm, his smile easy and lovely. Henry looks down at the crown in his hands and back at Alex. He imagines the gold half-buried in Alex’s hair, heavy on the man’s brow, decadent and royal. Henry swallows, face heating, and holds the crown out to Alex. “Put it on.” -- After the election, Henry explores Alex’s childhood room. He finds trinkets of a young Alex that intrigue him, including a crown that gives him some ideas.

In His Wildest Dreams by myheartalive

Once Alex has pulled out, Henry turns over to face him. He strokes the hair softly away from his face and Alex smiles at him. “So… that happened again.” Henry leans forward and kisses him on the forehead. “Indeed.” There’s a sort of thoughtful pause, where Henry can see Alex working to pull together the right words. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you that… thirsty?” “Oh, bugger off,” Henry says, but he’s laughing. It’s a fair description. “No, but I mean it. You were like… urgent. It was hot.” “It felt hot. I liked waking up like that. With you up against me, trying to have your way with me.” — Set in and around the Henry bonus chapter, this is a story about Henry and Alex’s hectic schedules, family appearances etc. pulling them apart, and about what starts to happen between them, in the quiet of night: their sleeping bodies turning to each other, finding their sweet spots and opening up. And Alex and Henry learning a lot about each other in the process — Mind the tags, y'all. That particular tag features prominently and it’s a major plot point, so if that’s not your jam, just hit the back button.

until next time!

[no-phrogs-in-hats]

Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

Regina Mills x fem!reader

Chapter 2: The Little Mermaid is my Sister-In-Law?

10 years later

There, in that god forsaken hospital, you sat with him.

Henry Daniel.

If there was one kid in the world who you adored above everyone else, it was Henry. So kind, so innocent. 

“You’re princess of the Maritime Kingdom, see?” he once said.

You were sitting at your desk while he waited for his mother to get out of a meeting when he came over and started talking about his book. 

“And this is your brother, Prince Eric!”

“What, like from The Little Mermaid?” He nodded. “So, Princess Ariel is my sister-in-law?” you asked.

He grinned. “Exactly.”

You held his storybook in your hands, having traded off shifts with Mary-Margaret just a half hour before to read to him. 

“His favorite story is Snow White,” she had told you. “I just finished reading it to him, but I don’t think he’ll mind hearing it again.”

“Thank you, Mary-Margaret,” you smiled before hugging her. “Get home safe. Goodnight.”

When Mary-Margaret had left, you sat in the chair beside the bed and chose a random page–a story you had never even recognized but somehow felt familiar. 

“Perhaps the Queen could be saved,” you read. “Perhaps true love could rid her of her darkness. So, that’s what the fairy did.” The illustration on the page depicted a blonde woman in green, ‘Tinkerbell’ she was called, who took the Queen’s hand and flew to a far away land. “In the window was a princess. “That girl there, with the star-shaped birthmark on her wrist, that’s your soulmate,” Tinkerbell said. “She’ll bring you happiness like no other.” The Queen wanted to believe her, but what would she be without her anger and resentment?” 

You looked down at the page where a familiar sight lay. The birthmark. The exact same birthmark you possessed on your wrist. But how could it be possible? This is the real world. Soulmates don’t exist and magic certainly doesn’t either. But, could Henry be right? Could the dreams you’ve been having be memories? Relics of your past life in a land that is no longer? 

“Henry,” you whispered, closing the book. “I know you can’t hear me, but–”

Your words were cut off by rapid beeping on the monitor. “What’s happening? Dr. Whale!” you shouted right as the glass doors of the ICU burst open and you were ushered out. 

__________

“Thank you.” You smiled at the server as a plate of pancakes and bacon was set in front of you.

It was a long and sleepless night. You were on your third cup of coffee and it was only eight in the morning. So many thoughts ran through your head. The birthmark. The Maritime Kingdom. Your brother. Every dream you had experienced about this strange land. With each bite of your breakfast, it became harder and harder to swallow. You wanted to cry, to scream, to leave this world and go back to the world that you were apparently so happy in. And, as if your wish was granted by a shooting star, everything stopped in a rush.

You looked around the diner and noticed everyone looked dazed and confused. Standing up, you threw a twenty down on the table and rushed out the door. You had to find your brother. You had to find your family. You had to find Regina.

Henry was right.

[crazyforbarbatos]

Obey Me Reactions: Would you love me if I were a frog?

Requested by @healersadjust

He would rub his temple and wonder which of the brothers came up with this ridiculous question. Regardless, he'd oblige since you seemed to genuinely want the answer.

"Why you be a frog, I'd have no idea. But if you were cursed or there was no way of getting you back to your normal appearance, then yes; I suppose I would love you if you were a frog."

"If you're a frog, then I'm a frog. I'm your number one demon and you're not turning into no frog without me!" He would be firm on becoming a frog with you. Especially if you were cursed to be a frog forever, he would find a way to become a frog just to be with you. You couldn't get rid of him too. "I love ya, so I'm gonna be a frog too!

"Probably?"

Levi would be confused as to why you even were asking in the first place, but regardless, he knew he would. He would love you if you were a frog. Although, he'd rather not have his Henry, his soulmate be a frog

"Why not a cat?"

Satan would have to think on this. Would he love you as a frog? That would depend on if your current self turned into a frog or if you were born a frog. Maybe not the latter. But he wasn't going to tell you that.

He made a face when you asked him. If you were a frog? He would take a few minutes to think it over before changing his tune. If you were a frog, you may be some kind of frog royalty! He could kiss you and you'd turn back and you two would live forever in beautiful fairy tale.

When you asked it, Beel immediately shook his head. It was probably not a good idea that you would be a frog. He would take care of you, but he likes eating frog legs, and he'd be worried that he'd eat you by accident. How would he even identify Y/N-frog? It'd be better if the two of you were just frogs together

"A frog? Why?"

He wouldn't care if you were a frog honestly. Yes, he would miss your cuddles and your talks with him in the attic, but he still had you. You would just be in frog form.

"Of course, you're still you after all. You'll be a very loved frog."

He was surprised and curious about your question. Honestly, questions like this kept him on his toes. He like that about you. And he truly would love you no matter what you were.

"I don't see why not."

Solomon would laugh when you asked him. It was certainly random but not out of the ordinary. You were so intriguing. He wondered what it was like in your head. Perhaps he would come up with a spell and read your thoughts.

[fromthefirstmomentitouchedyou]

Soulmate au 3

They’ve been sequestered into a side room in Kensington Palace, Alex is fairly sure theres a guard on the opposite side of the door in case one of them decides to bolt. He thinks about texting Nora to see what the odds are because Henry hasn’t looked at him since they’d been shoved in here, he’s looked in Alex’s direction sure but Alex has had media training and he knows all the tricks Henry is employing.

It’s not like he’s not doing it as well.

He glances down at the book on his thighs-the Prince Henry fact sheet, Henry has an identical one in his lap.

“This is bullshit,” Alex says for the tenth time in a row.

“Yes, well if we have to pull off this soulmates thing we have to at least pretend to know each other,” Henry says bitingly.

Alex sets the fact sheet on the couch beside him. “We don’t have to pretend we are soulmates, you could just ask me questions that’s what usually happens in these cases.”

“Most people actually want to be soulmates,” Henry says archly.

The sarcastic lilt of Henry’s voice sets off something hard and unpleasant in Alex’s stomach, a cramp at the verbal acknowledgement of how much Henry doesn’t want him. And it shouldn’t bother him, he doesn’t want Henry right back but the bond between them doesn’t lie. His body doesn’t lie even if his brain does. Henry’s rejection stings.

“Look, man, just ask me questions like a normal person,” Alex says.

For the first time Henry does look at him and the wave of pure emotion that wells in Alex’s throat makes him feel parched. Well, now he knows why Henry wasn’t looking at him.

Fuck the soulmate bond.

“Why do you hate me so much?”

Alex blinks, he’d expected a soft ball question, maybe what’s your favourite colour or something. But as ever Henry cuts down to the very core of him and prods something painful.

“The Olympics,” Alex says, “I came up to you to introduce myself and you took one look at me and told Shaan to “get me out of here”

Henry has the grace to blanch at least. “I didn’t know you heard that.”

The heat in Alex’s belly turns into anger. “Yeah, that’s not really the point is it? The point is you were a dick”

Henry nods solemnly. “Yes, of course. It’s not an excuse but my father died a few months before and to be frank I was a dick to pretty much everyone all of the time back then.”

Oh.

Alex swallows. He should’ve just studied the fact sheet. Now he feels as if he’s peeled back a layer of Henry and glimpsed a person inside. His soulmate, not some rich stuck up cardboard character.

He feels an identical desire to peel back a layer. “I just….this shit is hard and I didn’t get a handbook and I wasn’t born to this like you were and it’s pretty hard when everyone compares me to you, who apparently can do all this in your sleep and it doesn’t matter how hard I work to everyone else I’m just a bad imitation of you.”

Henry’s eyes are wide and very blue and suddenly they are very close. The air feels charged somehow, a faint low hum starts in Alex’s ears and thrums through his blood and he knows on some molecular, cellular level Henry feels it too. The bond between them flaring to life and burning all of their good intentions to ash. Alex wants desperately to kiss Henry and he’s just working though gathering his courage when Henry leans forward and kisses him. Soft, sure and achingly sweet and the sore part of him he just revealed to Henry feels soothed, at least a little.

Henry pulls away and Alex finds himself tilting forward, eager to follow, to keep doing whatever they hell they were doing because suddenly feels as if he’s one half of a puzzle piece slotted into its mate and he wants to keep the feeling.

“I’m sorry,” Henry swallows painfully, cheeks reddening and in a moment the prince is up and out of the room.

[jo-harrington]

Solamen. (An As Above, So Below Story)

Gratia. Charitas. Solamen. Grace. Charity. Peace. The oath of the Knights of the Holy Order.

Summary: You and Eddie--separated by time and endless suffering--don't realize how many strings keep you connected on the web of fate. What players are there trying to cut those strings? And when will you both find out that they are unbreakable?

Word Count: 8k

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

Warnings/Themes: Soulmates, Kas!Eddie, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Grief, Minor Character Deaths, Manipulation, Transformation, Corruption, Violence, Gore, Disturbing Imagery, Philosophical Ideas, Supernatural Encounters, Religious Elements, Criticism of Religion, Biblical and Other Literary and Pop Culture References

Note: Special thanks to @somnambulic-thing for listen to me as I tied myself into a knot with all of my Pepe Silvia string and helping me untie it all. Love you so very much.

AND IM NOT GONNA TAG HIM BECAUSE HOW EMBARRASSING but thanks Mike Flanagan for the "a ghost is a wish" line that I absolutely ripped off.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

"That's just the heart talking, you can never trust those. Pick a more stable organ to listen to, like the spleen, or the gallbladder." - Joan Tierney

November 6, 1983

Eddie woke to something tugging at his leg, pinching the flesh between deft fingers, but not piercing the skin.

Then whispers.

Unintelligible whispers that moved about him fluidly, like a wave. Maybe it was a wave because a sudden flood of memories, both good and bad, rushed over him; nightmares perhaps? They almost didn't feel like they were even his, but he knew that they were.

Driving the van for the first time, his first campaign as a DM, your first kiss.

He felt as though he was underwater.

Underwater, something biting him, tear-filled words as he lay dying in the desolate waste of the Upside Down.

“Eddie, wake up,” you whispered frantically in his ear.

He heard his own voice then. Or a memory of it, at least.

I don’t like this Chrissy, wake up! Flashing lights, snapping bones, and a sickening wet crunch.

He gasped as his consciousness slammed into him heavily, the remnants of fear from his past life ripping through the din to bring him back to the waking world.

The memories of falling and crashing soon followed and he observed his surroundings.

A crater.

It was the only way to describe the pit he’d created upon impact. A large divot in the ground with a lip of toxic earth and his body curled at the bottom, and as he forced his body to crawl out of it, he saw the spray of soil that had rained over the surrounding landscape.

And what a strange landscape it was.

Empty.

There was nothing as far as the eye could see in any direction. Just a flat, silty plain and a roiling, lightning-filled sky.

There were no creatures, no trees...he couldn't even see Hawkins, which he recalled flying over before he'd been struck by, well, whatever that was that knocked him out.

He'd been soaring over treetops, calling out to the bats to join him.

How had he ended up in such a vast emptiness as this?

The whispers returned, a ripple of them that shifted and moved around him, the source invisible. He growled instinctively, hackles raised; was someone or something trying to intimidate him? The rebellious beings that turned against their master? Had they learned a new trick?

Or was this something else? He already had one invisible enemy, one pest that tried to undermine Henry at every turn. Was this trap by your design?

The whispers closed in on him--he could feel them even if he couldn't see them, in numbers immeasurable--and he roared in warning, spittle flying from his mouth as his jaw unhinged, and the chittering blast of sound echoed into the void space.

He startled when your lips caressed his ear and the weight of you settled against his back, arms winding around his neck to hold him back.

"We need to go," you warned him, but he just hissed at you.

The whispers got louder, closer. From the din, he started to make out voices. Familiar voices. More memories. Talking to him, begging him.

Chrissy at the picnic table.

Patrick calling him a freak in the hallway.

Mr. Newby excitedly telling him about a new stereo he saved up for a year to buy.

They all chanted his name, just like you did. It swirled around him.

Eddie, Eddie, Eddie help us. Please help us.

"Eddie listen to me," you tried again. "We need to go."

He roared again, and felt triumphant when the whispers went silent.

But there was one last whisper, one more phantom, that was bold. Brave. He felt it walk right up to him. Tall, proud, toe to toe, nose to nose; it stretched to match his height.

He growled to intimidate it but felt it square itself resolutely. You tightened your arms around his neck, almost to hold him back.

"Don't," you told him, but it was too late.

He slashed a claw outwards to try and bat the whispering phantom away. He cut through it and felt the whoosh of air between his talons.

And must have been a trick of the light, a trick of the mind--one of your tricks--but there was a flash of a reflection of his own eyes right before him. Staring into his soul.

He blinked and it was gone.

You tightened your grip, then sighed and sunk through him, into him, back into the pit once more.

He was about to gloat, about to taunt you--he wasn't Eddie Munson anymore, he wasn't going to fall for your little games--but it was cut short as a roar that rivaled his in strength and volume echoed from just beyond the horizon.

Determined, he took to the skies again, ready to put an end to whatever other tricks you orchestrated so he could return to his master, victorious.

November 14, 1986

When you came to, you were on the ground.

Not tied up or restrained in any way.

In fact, when you finally got a good hold of your senses, you realized you weren't wearing any clothes either.

"What the...what the fuck?" You startled yourself into a sitting position and looked down at your faded Maidenform bra and Hanes Her Way underwear that you got on clearance at K-mart with Eddie oh so long ago.

You jumped as he suddenly appeared before you--the anger at your unconsented state of undress forgotten--ghastly and ghostly, looking like he did when you jumped into the passenger's seat of the van. Smug smile, love in his eyes, hair mussed from too much headbanging.

"Did you get me anything?" his voice echoed. He wiggled his fingers like he had when he tried to peek inside of your plastic shopping bag, where you did indeed have candy for him.

You didn't even have a chance to wrench your eyes shut, so shocked that you were to see him there, before he vanished.

Your heartbeat roared in your ears as your breathing became rapid and shallow. Your eyes darted around to try and find him once again, as though he'd simply transmuted somewhere behind you--you were used to his vanishing acts...his unseen presence, but this? This was different—you knew that immediately—but found yourself alone.

Alone in a cold, dark room with only the moonlight above to illuminate the dirt floor and dead ivy that climbed the stone walls. You could hear the chittering of bugs and flapping wings of bats in the dark; creatures of unknown origin lurking in the darkness, waiting to strike.

You realized where you were rather quickly--

The vision that the boy had shown you. The cell. The Harrowing.

--and knew that you needed to find a way out immediately.

The witches had already gotten some sort of advantage by capturing you; you wouldn't let them kill you too. You would die on your own terms when you were good and ready.

You shifted to a kneeling position and reached down to let your hands scrape along the dirt floor. You cast yourself forward, consciousness seeping into the Earth to try and find a break in the stone. You knew there must be a door here...it was just too dark to see.

"Show me," you demanded.

"Show you?" Another voice rasped from the shadows. "What's the use when you refuse to look?"

It was not Eddie's voice this time, and pain lanced through your chest, directly into your heart as you recognized it.

Your eyes watered as you fought the urge to look up, as a figure leaned into the moonlight in the corner of your eye. Grey hair, weathered skin, a delicate golden crucifix around her neck. You knew your Nonna wasn't there; no, you watched them put her body behind a wall. Felt a part of her soul settle there, to rest, for eternity.

You didn’t look up, steeled yourself for the fact that even though it sounded like her, it couldn’t be her. She was gone. She was dead. As much as it pained you to acknowledge.

Nonna was gone. Eddie was gone. You were alone. And no one was going to save you here unless you saved yourself.

You shook and dug your fingernails into the dirt, demanding the very stone around show you the way out, all while Nonna's phantom spouted chastising words, about how you never listened to her when she told you to pray and repent and thank God for this and that.

"Your eyes can deceive you," you muttered aloud as a reminder. "Don't trust them."

Nonna inched closer and closer to you, and your breath hitched as you felt the softness of her hand as she reached out and cupped your cheek. You shut your eyes and leaned into it for a moment; it felt just like her hand.

Gentle but calloused from years of labor, you swore you even felt the indentation in her fingers from the beads of the rosary she usually had clutched in her hands.

Maybe if you wished hard enough…

"Tesoro…amore…prayer won't help you here," she tutted.

You grit your teeth in anger and clenched your hands, nails splintering against the hard ground. Your eyes opened to stare straight ahead of you into the darkness.

“My grandmother went and saw Star Wars with me in the theater, you know.” You spoke with as much confidence as you could muster. The softness of Nonna’s hand vanished, as did she. “She was well-versed in the ways of the Force.”

You stared into the darkness, unblinking, and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Finally the darkness broke and a heavy wooden door opened, creaking inwards towards you, until light cascaded into the cell and revealed a man with slicked-back hair and elfin features. His eyes were like fire as he stared down at you, hatred and challenge burned there.

“You’re stronger than you look,” he sneered judgmentally. “Many minds have been broken by this place.”

“What do they say about tv melting your brain?” you spat right back at him. "I've watched too much; my mind is already gone."

He chuckled darkly.

“I wouldn’t know such mortal mechanisms as…teevee.”

“Oh you’re one of those kinds of witches.”

“Warlock,” he corrected. He was one of those kinds of men too. You wondered, disgusted, if he stripped you of your clothes himself to get a kick of your potential humiliation. Or if even that was above him. “And what might you be?”

“I’m a pain in the ass,” you smiled mockingly. “You should have just slit my throat if you wanted to kill me. Or is that too much of a mortal mechanism too?”

He swiftly lowered himself to kneel in front of you, black clothes billowing, and grabbed your face in one hand. His sharp nails dug into your cheeks viciously, drawing blood if the telltale pinch was anything to go by.

You felt him pull truths from you, information ingrained in your blood--Jinette, the Knights, the curse, your mission, Edward Spellman. It might have alarmed you, how easily he was taking it, but it was such a simple trick.

Two could play at that game.

You watched and waited as his eyes became unfocused, as he lost control taking thoughts and memories from you. Then, when he was nice and distracted, you reared back and punched him across that sharp cheekbone and nose, putting all of your heavenly force into it.

He let go of you at the impact and fell to the side, but you got what you needed. A little bit of blood smeared across your knuckles.

And then you saw.

The man--Faustus Blackwood--the Church of Night, the Academy of Unseen Arts, the Witches of Greendale and their historic persecution, the Dark Baptisms. And at the epitome of it all...two figures standing head to head…

A roar outside the door of the cell broke you from your thoughts and you froze, knowing.

Blackwood abruptly got to his feet and spat blood at you as he sneered, "I would kill you for that...but you’re worth more alive than dead, unfortunately.”

He stormed out of the cell without any other hesitation, and you were alone again.

Waiting. Anticipating.

There was no need for intimidation tactics really, but he apparently had an affinity for drama.

He stepped into the light and you saw the cloven hoof on one leg, the very human-like torso draped in a billowing black cloak, and the goat-like head with ears that twitched as he laid his eyes on you.

You had to admit, your emotions spiked a little bit at the sight, and as the door to the cell slammed shut behind him. Fear, confusion, annoyance, and that ever-present feeling of grief.

Maybe those were just the things that made you up as a person. Instead of joy or anything l truly good. He brought them right to the surface; not like you could lie to him.

Well, you were probably not as afraid as you should have been. You knew that. And he did too, as you swore you heard a snort from him.

But it wasn't every day that you faced your fate.

It wasn't every day you found yourself face to face with the Devil.

"Took you long enough," you greeted.

November 6, 1983

He flew for as long as he could and then pushed himself to fly further, following the massive roar until it became the constant din of roars and chitters and screeches--many beasts voices combined to form one.

He flew until he found something again in the barren void in the outskirts of the Upside Down.

It was surprising to find that there wasn't even a blue tinge to the sky anymore out here, but instead a dingy yellow hue. Glowing and golden, with, what he believed to be, shooting stars soaring across the murky atmosphere. Where he'd gotten used to order and obedience in the mirrored version of Hawkins, this...this...was wild and untamed.

It was full of possibility and promise.

For a brief moment, deep down inside, right next to where you resided in the pit, curiosity bloomed.

Was this the potential that the Upside Down had when it wasn't wrangled and tethered by Henry? Was this the potential that he had?

He snarled at the intrusive thought, sure that you were the cause of it; he needed to focus, to stay loyal to Henry. He had a job to do here; he had to restore order.

He powered onwards and soared over a crowd of creatures on the uneven ground below. They were emaciated and writhing, howling and digging and fighting.

It wasn't like the playful or bored fights he witnessed at the quarry; this was a survival of the fittest. Limbs were ripped off, throats torn, blood shed. And the winner had the explicit honor of absorbing the writhing mass of parts that the loser left behind.

Off in the distance he could see the partially formed behemoth of a creature. No life breathed into it yet, just a lump of meat with one leg here and a malformed head.

Images flashed in his mind, courtesy of Henry, of the Mindflayer forming from citizens of Hawkins. Their flesh melted to form the beast, just like his brethren below melted into one another to form a new Mindflayer.

Just like they'd sacrificed themselves for his new form.

He felt electricity deep within his flesh, his bones, his wings as like called to like.

He couldn't help but feel some sort of betrayal; its origins were unknown and he couldn't quite discern what the feeling meant.

Was it a betrayal of the creatures who used to believe Henry to be their leader, who sacrificed themselves for him?

Or a betrayal within himself? The pieces of him that had been graciously given knew that he was a part of their flock, their swarm...the blood that kept his heart beating and his hunger at bay was the same as theirs...but he'd chosen Henry over them...

"Is that what they feel?" your question echoed within him, radiating from the depths of the pit outwards, to the very tips of his talons and back. It shook him to the core. "Or is that what you feel?"

However, he ignored you as he dropped to the ground, dry earth cracking beneath his feet, and let out a deafening, screeching cry to bring the mass of creatures to order.

The hive mind was still unavailable to him--to all of them, it seemed--but he was still the strongest of them all, the most dangerous predator. They all stilled at his call, like a shockwave radiating outwards from him.

He turned on his heel, glaring at the massive congregation of creatures. Some of the dogs pawed at the ground; the petal-like heads of the demogorgons opened and closed at will, blood dripping from the thousands of teeth embedded in their maws. He didn’t need the hive mind to know what they were thinking, considering; he knew what it looked like when they were gearing up for an attack.

He snarled at them all, chastising them, warning them...

One warning; it was all they got. Just like his uncle used to tell him.

But one stupid creature got the courage to challenge him and it roared, a shrill sound from somewhere beyond his line of sight, and the others soon followed. Until he was surrounded by another cacophony of sound that caused the air to vibrate and the ground to rumble.

There was safety in numbers; he knew. He could overpower them individually without much trouble, but against the sheer mass of them? Could he win? Could he survive?

He dug his heels into the ground, tucked his wings tightly against his body, and hissed, accepting the challenge.

He silently apologized to Henry as he considered that this would be the most fun he would have in the Upside Down since he and Dustin had their…

His thoughts were cut short as one of the dogs raced towards him, mouth snapping, ready to strike. Only for him to strike first, claws cutting it to ribbons, easily tearing through its flesh until it thumped, dead in pieces on the ground around him.

Its comrades were soon to follow, a whole pack of them, and they got their pound of flesh out of him, biting and dragging their teeth into him. They sent his black blood spilling onto the ground with the wounds they inflicted. He powered through the pain, knowing he would heal.

What was pain to him when he was reborn of pain? When Henry had inflicted unimaginable agony onto him only to build him back stronger again?

He picked them off his body one by one, like the vermin that they were, cursing their betrayal—they had been his friends, his family in this new life—as he tore them apart.

More attacked, until it was an endless barrage of bodies and claws and teeth looking to tear into him, which resulted in what could only be described as untethered carnage. When he tired, he stoked his hunger by drinking deeply from the wounds he inflicted on them, taking his fill until he was ready to keep fighting.

He was filled with the determination to keep going until the last creature was dead at his feet, and he would have...he would have done it...

If only he hadn't looked up at the sky.

And saw it looking back down at him.

November 14, 1986

Your vision blurred and the devil's visage wavered in and out.

From goat, to that of a man with beautiful, sculpted features and dark curls. Back and forth a few times, smiling ever so gently at you. Finally he decided on the image of a man for his temptation of you.

Funny that he wouldn't make himself look like Eddie or Nonna again if he wanted to do that.

The cell door slammed shut and he sat beside you on the ground; he said your name carefully, as though he was tasting a fine wine for the first time.

"You're a funny little creature," he observed with a chuckle, dark undertones accentuating the depth of his accented voice. "My own disciples fear me but you...hmmm...you fear something else, I think."

"You don't spend much time on Earth do you? A Mongolian Death Worm is scarier than a Goat Man," you reasoned.

The corners of his eyes crinkled in amusement.

"You fear yourself." Your expression fell and he held a hand out innocently. "It's ok, I feared myself too for a time. After I was cast out of Heaven. My father and brothers feared me, so I must also fear myself. But I came to find that I was just...willful, and they didn't like that one bit."

You thought of Gabriel and his annoying stoicism, how he tried to keep you aligned with what fate had in store for you.

"Yes, you seem to be exceptionally willful too." He hummed in agreement, as though he could hear your thoughts. Maybe he could. "You and your forebearers. That's why you've found yourselves in the predicament you're in."

He leaned closer to you, his nose practically touching yours. His image wavered once more, and you smelled the brimstone on him. Much heavier than it had with Edward Spellman.

"That's why you've found yourselves doomed to an eternity with me," he smiled amicably and then slowly leaned back. "Why not let it be on your own terms."

Your eyes darted between his, and you questioned whether or not you could trick the Devil, if you could win against him in this game.

And if you did, would he just strike you down in retaliation?

"What do you get in return?" you asked.

"Another soul devoted to me," he said simply. "Instead of one I'm forced to punish. I really like it when mortals pray to me; the power is actually quite nice."

He took a deep breath in, shoulders squaring as he lavished in some unseen dark power. Then he exhaled and squinted at you.

"I'm being merciful, you see, because, I win either way; you're still mine, in the end. But isn't corruption fun? The hellfire tickles when it touches you instead of melting the flesh off your bones like it's currently doing to dear old Dad."

His eyes narrowed further when you didn't react.

"Or to Eddie."

You must have visibly reacted, some kind of shudder or blink that made him relax and smile again.

"See, that got you listening," he nodded self-assuredly. "I can smell the stink of grief on you.”

You gritted your teeth at the pang in your heart; Eddie…he wasn’t in Hell. He couldn’t be.

But how could you be sure?

“And denial,” He continued. “Faustus could too, actually, and he's not the brightest bulb in the bunch. He doesn't have nearly as much power as he likes to pretend he does. He's losing control of his own congregation. They don't want to listen to him. No wonder you didn't fall prey to his torture either. No matter. You're here with me now."

The edges of the cell suddenly became alight with flames, a circle of them that trapped you and the Devil together.

They were not of this earth; you knew it immediately as they licked at your bare skin, but you gritted your teeth to the singe of pain that shot through you, refusing to move closer to him.

"Now, dear girl, what do you want?"

He tilted his head, and the motion felt strange and distorted. Contorted as it seemed to tilt further than a human's range of motion would allow.

"Do you simply want this curse gone? You can continue doing your good deeds on earth if you want, save the innocents. I don't mind. Oh that's a good bargain actually. Innocents slaughtered by darkness go to heaven; if you save them and they live to sin on their own, they'll end up with me. Let them suffer a little less so I can enjoy hearing them scream a little louder."

The longer you stayed near the fire though, the louder you heard screams of the damned from within it.

"Maybe you want revenge on those who put this silly curse on you in the first place. Your bishop friend hmm? Or whatever he is. We both know the dark deeds he's involved in."

Something wicked twinged within you, deep down in the little dark spot inside your soul. Your lips quirked as he projected images of Jinette screaming as you burned him alive.

You shook your head, physically trying to rid yourself of the thoughts.

No. You were good, you could break this curse yourself and you could still save people and you could make it to heaven. To Eddie.

"Ah, see, my mistake. How could I forget? How good is all of that," he asked knowingly. "When I'm forgetting something important? When there's something more delicious I can offer."

The devil's projections changed then. From revenge and damnation...to all of the decadent moments that you had with Eddie and then lost because of this stupid curse.

You whimpered at the thoughts, at the way they plucked at your heartstrings. Kisses and laughter and every secret, sweet moment between the two of you.

"Do you want your little boyfriend back?" he whispered. "The two of you could live forever with red vines and cherry pie and Dr. Pepper until the end of time. Immortality is something I offer all my disciples."

You felt your resolve weaken and tears built up in the corners of your eyes as you saw the two of you frolicking through the world until the end of the earth itself. You and Eddie and forever. You could almost reach out and touch it.

But how could he offer that to you if Eddie was beyond his grasp in Heaven. He had to be in Hell, as much as it destroyed you to believe.

"All you have to do," he held out his hand, "is say yes."

It would have been so easy to reach out and touch his hand, to ignore all of the red flags and to accept this offer. It was easy for all logic to leave you, all rational sense that you had. It was so tempting and you were so...so...tired.

But there was a small bit of movement in the corner of your eye, and you broke eye contact with the devil to see what he might have to show you now...only to find Gabriel there, hands held behind his back. He looked bored, like he usually did, and you almost felt smug at him having caught you like this.

You were tired. You were human. You weren't meant for these grand plans that fate had in store for you, that God seemingly had for you.

"Have you come to scold me?" you asked him wearily. "Or save me?"

"I'm here to prove that you still have much to learn," Gabriel sighed. “Very much to learn, it seems.”

Yes, you did...didn't you.

You snorted and hung your head in shame, finally allowing the tears to fall.

But the devil...the devil narrowed his eyes at you and turned to follow where your line of sight had been.

"Who are you talking to?" he asked with a snarl.

You scoffed and lifted your hand to gesture towards Gabriel.

"Surprise!" you exclaimed with faux excitement. "Family reunion."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, head darting back and forth between you and Gabriel.

Or rather, just left of Gabriel.

You watched as his head turned in confusion, as anger built up inside of him and the fires roared hotter, as his image darted in and out, in and out. Goat then man then something else...just a shadow.

Like the shadow that you'd seen in the woods.

You sniffed and wiped at your tears as you put two and two together. All of the inconsistencies that you ignored in the devil's stories, the misuses of names and symbols in the Academy, and now this...the fact that this so-called Lucifer--an archangel--might not be able to see Gabriel.

Devils lied, demons lied. They tricked and poisoned minds and hearts. They still had power and promises; this one had a whole slew of followers. He was their deity in one way or another, spoke as though he believed himself to be a fallen angel. Maybe he was a prince of Hell in some capacity, some pretending parasite whose ambition was the throne of the damned.

But was he the Devil himself? No.

None of these beliefs were as straightforward as they seemed; the universe was a riddle that you didn't have time or care enough to solve.

You also were a little rusty on your Lesser Key of Solomon.

Had he even known these things about your curse? About Nonna and Eddie? About your father and your knighthood? Or had it just been a simple skimming of your thoughts? Maybe even Blackwood's thoughts when he'd read your memories through your blood.

You thought back to the information you tried to ascertain from Blackwood in return.

A vision of this Dark Lord and Edward Spellman, some sort of disagreement between the two of them. Perhaps this devil was trying to get someone or something on his side to overcome Spellman's challenge.

That's all it took for it to click in your head.

Then you got angry. At this devil for his tricks, at Jinette for putting you in this mess without sufficient warning, and most of all…at yourself for falling for it all.

You looked back at Gabriel, unable to admit that you’d fucked up.

"Ok but you could have just saved me you know," you snarked at him instead.

Gabriel’s mouth quirked in his rendition of a smile. Some pseudo expression that made him seem human for a fraction of a second.

"It'll all make sense one day.” It was said the way a parent would to a curious toddler. Gabriel looked away from you to some middle distance, through the wall of the cell, and then gestured at the devil. "Would you like to take care of this?”

You rolled your eyes at him then pushed yourself to your feet, much to the protest of the devil, who simply conjured more hellfire to try and burn you alive.

You let it singe you, let it touch your skin to ignite the fire of your own. A spiteful, smiting fire, much like you had emitted the day you found out Eddie died.

"And if I told you he was alive?" the devil asked, shrinking away as you raised your hand to banish him. "Eddie. He's alive."

You hesitated but shook off any effect his lies had on you.

"Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue," you quoted and then leant closer to him to whisper. "That's Shakespeare, if you wanna tell your friend Blackwood to experience some mortal things before I come knocking again."

The hellfire licked at you again and from it you sparked a pure and holy flame, and with the heat and pressure of a supernova, the Witch's cell was consumed. All the dark corners were illuminated, the evil spirits that lurked there expelled, and you heard the devil scream as he was sent back to the depths of Hell once more.

You were alone when the fire dissipated.

Gabriel was gone.

Even Eddie’s ghost didn’t dare show himself, and you were grateful.

Your footing faltered and you fell against the wall of the cell, grateful for it to be over. You took several deep breaths before the pain and weariness in your body—in your soul—got the best of you.

Then you cried. Deep, gut-wrenching sobs echoed in the stone chamber, as you wrapped your arms around yourself to try and self soothe. This moment was for you. It was full of mourning and self-hatred and fear and relief that you hadn’t given in in that moment of weakness.

Your respite didn't last long, however, because the door to the cell creaked open again. You startled and scrambled to stand tall, confidently, unwilling to let the witches get the best of you again.

Only to find the kind eyes of Edward Spellman on the other side.

November 6, 1983

He stared in confusion, ignoring the bites and slashes from the masses around him, as the pair of eyes became more tangible in the rolling, smoky clouds up above. A flash of lighting was a blink...or maybe a glint of curiosity in their gold-and-shadowy depths.

Just eyes. Nothing else.

It was a curious thing.

They watched him.

And he watched them back.

It would be easy to blame you for this, just like he'd tried to convince himself to blame you for the whispers. But you were silent; no gloating or even warning.

Actually, if he paid attention, he could hear you hiding in the pit, little prayers being muttered fearfully.

There was a surge of protectiveness that shot through him at the realization that you were afraid. He figured that as annoying as you were to him, he'd really never seen you affect the rest of the world in many more ways than plucking the strings of his guitar. Conversely, the world shouldn't affect you either; your warnings were for him and him alone. If he ceased to exist, so would you, right?

So why did those eyes scare you? And why were they watching him in the first place?

His head fell to the side in a confused tilt and the eyes seemed to blink at him.

He snarled and the eyes blinked again.

Then in the distance, the proto-Mindflayer shuttered to life and squawked. It was a sad and pathetic sound, and he would have laughed; however, in response to the cry, the army of creatures that had taken up arms against him screeched in tandem. They released their holds on him, their jaws becoming loose so they could contribute to the flurry of sounds.

Louder and louder until it was a deafening wail.

Until it brought Eddie to his knees.

He was not meant to kneel.

That was the first thought he had; Henry had made him to tower over his enemies, to intimidate them before he slaughtered them. His servitude to his master was not by force, it was willing.

He'd given up so much for a chance to live.

Given up his soul.

"Heaven," you muttered sadly inside of him before delving back into prayer to your non-existent god. He growled at the thought, at your incessant murmuring deep within him.

Eddie Munson wasn't going to heaven; it was a laughable thought, actually.

He struggled back to his feet, feeling like he was underwater again with the weight of a thousand oceans on his shoulders. He steeled himself against the wails and the screams, the whispers and the feelings they all drummed up inside of him.

He'd chosen this.

This was his path.

And nothing would make him deviate from it.

Not you, not some would-be-usurping monster made from the parts of recalcitrant beasts, and certainly not some eyes in the sky that made him doubt himself.

He closed his own eyes to the world, closed himself off from all of it; he even tried to close himself off from you, but he couldn't escape you no matter how much he tried, so he just ignored your words. He would deal with you later.

If some meddlesome minder thought that tricks could be used to turn him against his master, he could use tricks of his own. A trick Henry himself showed him--whether he intended to or not--through the Hive Mind.

It started as a spark, not in his heart or in his fingers...in his mind. He envisioned it. Red and crackling, like the lightning that illuminated the skies of the Upside Down. The skies of his home. So different than the lightning that crashed up above and made those eyes blink and wink at him.

Red like a glowing ember.

Red like blood.

Red like his guitar, the vibrations twanging through him as he plucked the string.

He harnessed those imagined vibrations, imagined lightning, and then cast it outwards from him.

He felt the devastation before he heard it or saw it; just like the static wave that had cut him off from the collective consciousness, his attack on the beasts stunned them, then shocked them.

Eviscerated them.

Every wave of electricity he cast was full of emotion, as though he was purging every human feeling he didn't think he had anymore. It was retribution and pain and justice; grief and regret and loneliness. And when it all poured out of him, when the wails stopped, he opened his eyes to an empty battlefield.

The bodies had turned to stone and then the stone had weathered into dust.

There was a rumbling overhead and Eddie looked up with a wretched, wicked, victorious grin.

Henry would be proud of him.

The eyes blinked again, and then lightning crashed from the clouds that made them up, right down onto the ground before him.

One bolt after another. Never touching him. Just dotting the ground with craters.

Like teardrops.

Until the skies roiled once again and the eyes disappeared.

All with one last whisper on the wind.

"Help me..."

November 14, 1986

Mr. Spellman--Edward, he insisted, but you simply refused--escorted you out of the Witch’s Cell and the Academy of Unseen Arts and then took you back to Greendale.

“In a car,” you observed as he led you to his vehicle.

“How else?” He questioned with a furrowed brow and then reached into the backseat to grab a lovingly-crocheted shawl to hand to you. "I'll return your belongings to you once I find their whereabouts; Faustus was only protecting our congregation when..."

He faltered with his words, and you knew that he was trying to find an excuse for something that might otherwise be inexcusable.

"It's alright," you stopped him and took the shawl. You wrapped it around your bare shoulders. You pulled it around you tightly and inhaled; it smelled like aromatic herbs with an undertone of...formaldehyde? "I understand. Maybe, uh, the stripping isn't necessary next time he tries to catch and torture someone huh?"

"Would you believe it if I said that it's a tradition?" he offered apologetically. "Those who make a deal with the Dark Lord often see it...almost as a rite of marriage."

He laughed as you wrinkled your nose in distaste.

"Maybe some traditions need to change," you challenged him.

He gave you space and time, several days actually, to rest and heal and recollect yourself before he invited you to his home--a mortuary, which would explain the formaldehyde--to discuss your visit to Greendale. You shared your story, willingly this time--about the Knights and the Holy Order and about your curse--while he shared stories about the Church of Night and the Academy, about their beliefs and how he constantly pushed to know more, believe more.

Then you both discussed how you might work together to ensure you'd never need to come back again.

"It's a great meeting of the minds," he exclaimed, more enthusiastic than you might ever be. "A meeting of worlds."

You couldn't deny him that enthusiasm, especially when he'd been kind enough to welcome you into his home. His sister Hilda even brought tea and cookies for the two of you. But you knew that Jinette and the Order would probably kill you if things didn't change in Greendale and soon.

"A meeting about the demon you worship or the kids who are dying at the Academy under your watch Mr. Spellman," you policed him.

You weren't even surprised when he agreed with you.

"You mentioned traditions needing to change. The Harrowing isn't even one of our most archaic traditions but it is one of the many traditions that I'm keen to abandon," he explained, scribbling something down in a nearby journal. You didn't ask what some of the other traditions the Church of Knight kept; you knew that you probably wouldn't be too keen on them either.

But he seemed genuine enough.

"As for the Dark Lord," he continued. "I've known for some time that he isn't really Lucifer Morningstar. But it wouldn't do for me to try and convince anyone of it. What else is there to drive our beliefs? I suppose plenty of things but...to change an entire system takes time. Besides...well...it's all relative, isn't it? To us, your deity is The False God. No matter how much hope and comfort he gives you."

You knew that Mr. Spellman was generalizing...but when was the last time God had ever brought you comfort? Had He ever?

"Maybe He is The False God," you agreed. "Maybe neither of them are truly worthy of any worship; they all have their flaws."

"Knowledge is knowing that a tomato is a fruit," he quoted.

"And wisdom is knowing not to put it in a fruit salad," you finished for him with a snort. "My boyfriend says that all the time when he and his friends play DnD. He..."

And then you caught yourself, and Mr. Spellman caught you too. He watched you with a knowing gaze.

"He..." you frowned. "He..."

"He came with you to Greendale," Mr. Spellman finished for you. "Even if you don't want to admit that he did. He goes with you everywhere. Doesn't he?"

"He does."

"When did he die?"

"Back in March."

"And do you want him gone?"

"I think," you paused and wrung your hands together.

What a strange question for him to ask...but it still got you thinking. Was it better to carry this grief with you for the rest of your life? To carry his ghost with you everywhere you went? Clearly, if your time in Greendale had been an indicator, Eddie and your grief could be used against you.

But what was the alternative? Being alone? You knew he wasn't there...but wasn't he there?

What was a ghost, but a wish...

"I think," you finally continued with your answer. "Eddie is a part of me now in a way that I can never ever...I don't even know if recover from is the right phrase. I don't think I even want to recover from it. He's going to be a part of me until I reunite with him again."

"In Heaven?"

"In Heaven. Or in Hell."

November 6, 1983

Eddie returned to Henry, triumphant.

It had been a relief once he'd returned to Hawkins and the hive mind seemingly clicked back into place. Henry had been the first to greet him when it did, demanding to see him in the flesh and, hopefully, celebrate such a big victory.

But when he opened his mind to his master, fully intent on letting him see everything--

The self-cannibalism of the unruly creatures, his destruction of them and finally, you deep down in the pit within him, whispering into his ear the whole time.

--Henry, surprisingly, did no such thing.

There was pride, but also boredom. He would see that his request was fulfilled, but beyond that? Well what good was praise when success was the expectation.

"Rest," Henry groaned and then settled back into his own convalescence, without much care to the state of his beast. "You will find battle again soon; for now, rest."

Eddie twitched apprehensively at those words, at the dismissal, as he took to the skies once again to follow his master's orders.

But something was missing. He needed answers, he needed to deliver a full recount of the incident, he needed to ensure that this would never happen again because he knew the consequences would be dire.

He was Henry's right hand; why didn't his master want to ensure he was successful. His reaction had been beyond trust; it had been indifference.

Deep down inside of Eddie, a little voice spoke.

Did it matter whether Henry cared or not? He was successful, that was all that mattered.

But what was the point of being successful if not to receive some sort of praise? He would surely be punished if he had failed.

But if he had failed, he would be dead. And he would have deserved it.

And if he had died? Would Henry have batted an eye?

He was just a thing. Henry's weapon, his sword, his beast...and if he lost...good riddance...if he lost, he was weak anyway...

Eddie roared when he landed at his destination--the trailer--inundated with all of the doubts in the world. Frustrated, because they didn't come from you, they came from himself. That voice...that was his own voice. Not yours.

His doubts in his master were his own.

But where had they come from? Why? Why now?

He was suspicious of their origin, especially since you were practically non-existent in that moment. In fact, he hadn't heard you since his return. Since he'd decided to reveal your existence to Henry.

The feelings of betrayal within him must have been because of you, even inadvertently.

"Come here," he screeched at you, clawing at his own chest almost an attempt to carve you out physically. "Answer me!"

But there was nothing.

Rage stoked, he stormed through the trailer and resumed the rampant destruction that he'd abandoned oh so long ago. Walls demolished, belongings broken. He would move heaven and earth to get you to respond to him, cause as much of a ruckus until you came to bother him once again, insult him.

Then he would...what? Strike? He couldn't strike you, couldn't kill you, couldn't be rid of you, even if he tried.

And then, in the depths of the destroyed trailer, he came to his guitar.

The guitar had started it all, hadn't it? The first time he'd played it was the first time you'd materialized. That was the first time he'd felt like Eddie Munson in an eternity.

But he wasn't Eddie Munson anymore.

He reached out a claw and plucked at a string, hoping that would get you to reveal yourself once again.

Twang.

There was a ripple.

Twang.

A disturbance in the pit as you clawed your way out of him once again.

Twang.

You were silent as you manifested, unseen, beside him.

It was silent for a while, as you both languished in the presence of one another. Eddie in the silent truth of your existence, you in the turbulent rage of his.

Until he finally spoke.

"What did you do to me?" he questioned.

He watched as the guitar sting plucked itself by your invisible hand, that zzzz of your fingertip against the texture of the string before the twang.

"How did you do that?" He didn't need to elaborate, he knew you knew what he meant.

It was easy to put the blame on you, for all of it, even though he knew he felt your fear in the wastes at the outskirts of the Upside Down. You'd been just as in control as he had been.

"We both know," you spoke into his ear, into his heart. "That wasn't me."

"But you are doing something," he rasped. "Trickster, fiend."

"Friend," you corrected him.

There was a pang where his heart should be once again.

But you were more than friend, weren't you. You were a part of his heart, a part of his soul--

He roared at the thought and lashed out, trying to claw at you futility, but you disappeared again and he felt you materialize across the room.

"I don't know why you're angry," you taunted him. "Because big bad Vecna didn't pat you on the head. The Eddie I know wouldn't accept such mediocre prizes."

"I'm not Eddie anymore!" he screeched and this time he didn't lash out at the space where you seemingly existed. Intangible and invulnerable.

No, instead he lunged for the symbol of you, the last symbol of his humanity.

The guitar.

He raked his claws down the metal of the strings, shearing them into pieces. He pulled the neck of it from the body, stomped on it with heavy footsteps.

The more he destroyed his previously beloved instrument, the more he envisioned your destruction. Just like he'd vaporized all of the betraying comrades, he imagined that he'd vaporized you. Each atom turning into dust, into smoke, the more he destroyed this last piece of Eddie Munson in existence here in the Upside Down.

It was quiet when all was said and done, and he let out a victorious wail to celebrate that silence.

He huffed and chuckled and dropped to his knees in relief that he was finally rid of you.

Finally.

But he felt the phantom weight of your arms circling around his neck, the pressure of your body against his wings. You softly caressed his cheek.

"Are you done? Did that feel good?" you mocked him.

A whimper escaped his throat and you sighed sorrowfully.

"I'm sorry Eddie," you nuzzled against the side of his head, breath caressing his skin and ruffling his hair. Even if you weren't really there. "But you're not getting rid of me that easily. I will always be with you."

“Real hauntings have nothing to do with ghosts; they have to do with the menace of memory.” — Anne Rice, Queen of the Damned

[larkral]

Blargh! I need a new header, except that my most recent OS update on my computer has end-of-life'd my long-term relationship with a once-purchased full Adobe suite, so I both have to find a new photo editing program AND learn to use it? Travail upon travail.

ANYWAY thanks for the tags today to @kiwiana-writes @run-for-chamo-miles @monbons @you-remind-me-of-the-babe and @shrekgogurt (squeaking just at the arbitrary tumbr per-paragraph tag limit. PHEW) I am continually delighted by all the snippets people are sharing. Why oh why are there things I have to do with my time that aren't "write and read fanfiction"?

Anyway! One of those things this week was to trace a mural on my daughter's wall. I was...perhaps too ambitious with the design, but we'll get there eventually. This is the traced mural!

I've also been writing a bit!

Eight (sorry not sorry) sentences from Finally (already, always):

"It's fine," he says, "I get it." Then he sits on my bed next to me and tugs my wand from my hand to set it on the nightstand. He presses his thigh to mine to nudge me over. "You know I don't think I've ever heard my dad say the word vampire? Before this summer, I mean. I don't know why. It's not like we haven't always known. Even Mordelia knows, and she's four."

And Six sentences of FirstPrince Soulmate BS, because if you read my last line this week you deserve to know a bit more context. :D

"Oh," Beatrice says on seeing Alex. "My apologies. We were planning on joining you for supper." She turns to Henry, "Did you not tell him?"  "No," Henry says with a quizzical expression, "I did." "Thought you were just being polite," Alex responds as he closes his laptop and stands.

Tagging everyone below the cut even though it's late, because I want to start your Mondays off right, and I'm claiming the ability to brighten your day. Humor me. :D

@stitchyqueer @confused-bi-queer @raenestee @facewithoutheart @whogaveyoupermission

@cutestkilla @hushed-chorus @sillyunicorn @wellbelesbian @basiltonbutliketheherb

@ileadacharmedlife @asocialpessimist @bookish-bogwitch @aristocratic-otter @captain-aralias

@petedavidsonscock @artsyunderstudy @carryonvisinata @takenabackbytuesdays @martsonmars

@nausikaaa @nightimedreamersghost @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @ionlydrinkhotwater @that-disabled-princess

@palimpsessed @fatalfangirl​ @blackberrysummerblog​ @valeffelees @mooncello

@j-nipper-95 @youarenevertooold @emeryhall @talentpiper11 @roomwithanopenfire

@imagineacoolusername @orange-peony @thewholelemon

<3 <3 <3

[lilliad-dreams]

@discreet-eccentric-affairs

Henry's leg was swung over his other, quite lazily so. His head laid against his knuckles, leaning on his arm as he watched around the room. Henry was the host of the party, as he always was at these weekly things, his family- his hive scattered about the party. These parties were a way to try to recruit new members. Henry's hive- They didn't turn people all that often. But they were always looking for new humans to join them. Many of Henry's hive members chose not only to drain their human members, but mate with them. Vampires and humans, there was a special bond.

Henry was bored, though. That much was obvious, and not just to his beloved hive members. Any of the guests could tell their gracious host was bored off his arse. And he hadn't even had a single drink, so his attitude couldn't be blamed on alcohol. He sat in his chair, raised up off the ground like it was a throne, watching everyone else as if he was searching for something. Something to entertain him. He had gone a long time without draining a human.. Henry's hive took out reserves of human blood, for emergencies. Henry had been using those reserves to feed instead of taking a human to drain. It was cleaner, less messy- Less human connections. His former feeder, Lord Wetherby, was mating with George Byron- The poet, another vampire of Henry's hive. Henry cared very little about their little relationship, if he was honest. Byron and Henry had something of a friendly relationship- Henry had felt Byron's lips on his own many times. And Wetherby knew as well as Henry did that he wasn't the only one that Byron drained. It was survival, really. No vampire could survive on just one human. They needed more blood than one human mate could provide. Thus- They took on more. It was normal, it was survival. Henry's hive had called him stupid for it, but Henry was searching for something. Vampires had a special bond with a specific human in the world. Call it soulmates, call it "meant to be", but each Vampire had a connection with a human, somewhere in the world. And Henry was determined to find his. So he invited his hive to invite anyone they liked. He opened his parties to all. He sorted through the rabble, dusted off the grime. He wanted to find his human. He was unsuccessful thus far. Very unsuccessful. But he wouldn't stop looking, not now.. Even if his hive told him it was an effort he'd regret. Wetherby especially seemed to have an issue with it. Perhaps it was the man's intense envy. He wanted Henry's attention back, and ever since Henry had started looking for his "soulmate", Wetherby had been pushed to the side. Henry hadn't meant to do it, not really... But he found himself less interested in draining any of the humans in his hive when he started his search.

His hive's nurse, Ms. Lucy Hollow, told him something he wouldn't forget. She was his biggest supporter. "They're somewhere out there, Henry. Don't stop looking, if that's what your heart is telling you." She'd looked at him with such kindness, he couldn't let her down. Her support pushed him to keep looking.

And who knows, maybe tonight was his lucky night...

[inexplicablymine]

Seven Sentences Sunday Monday

I am currently on the tarmac in an airplane to do a short term move across the ocean for a work project… So I am a little harried (on mobile) and a lot excited for both this move and all of the INSANE snippets yesterday.

As a little treat for all the amazing words I was fed here is the first (slightly nsfw) look at my multichap magical realism soulmate au “Mind Over Matter”

Alex’s stomach plummets out of his ass and settles somewhere in the southern hemisphere, about three thousand miles from where he is currently nursing his only drink of the night.

He scrutinizes the image in front of him, a prince and a first daughter, twirling around on a croquette floor inside a Swarovski laden venue that inexplicably cost enough to feed a medium sized country if the seventy-five thousand pound cake is anything to go by.

It’s a waltz in 3/4 time, and Alex’s fingers twitch at an approximation of the one-two-three step that he perfected through one-too-many lessons on royal etiquette with Zahra in the last three months in preparation for propriety at this “event of the century.”

Propriety is the last thing on his mind in this very moment.

Because tell him why the fuck Mr. Straight- and-Narrow isn’t thinking about June right now.

Instead, Alex can hear, clear as a bell, with more lucidity than he has ever heard anyone’s thoughts before that Henry, yes the god damn Prince of England, does not want to have his arms around June.

Instead, he’d much rather they were gripping Alex’s head, hands tugging on tousled curls as he pulls Alex onto his cock.

Well… I’ll leave you with that to ruminate on while I disappear across the ocean till Wednesday to give you more <3

Thank you to the amazing lovelies who all tagged me with your pretty words @kiwiana-writes @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @sherryvalli @indomitable-love @orchidscript @dumbpeachjuice @littlemisskittentoes @ssmtskw @cha-melodius @leojfitz @songliili @wordsofhoneydew @14carrotghoul @happiness-of-the-pursuit @onthewaytosomewhere @rockyroadkylers @firenati0n @cultofsappho @suseagull04 @read-and-write- @affectionatelyrs @leaves-of-laurelin @indestructibleheart

And now for a few more (but also pls open tag I want to see the words) (I know it’s late you can just use it for Wednesday ;)))) @rmd-writes @matherines @saintlynomenclature @anchoredarchangel @onward--upward @daisymae-12 @heybuddy-drabbles @lizzie-bennetdarcy @tintagel-or-cockleshells @magicandarchery @gay-flyboys @gayrootvegetable @sparklepocalypse

[priincebutt]

Happy Wednesday folks! Thank you to @duchessdepolignaca03 and @getmehighonmagic for the early tags! Coming at you all again with more from my fic for @aroyallybigbangrwrb because it's about all I can work on right now. Sorry if yall are sick of it, but I haven't really had the bandwidth for anything else and I'm very proud of how well my writing is going for this one!

But something about a soulmate mark felt like it was taking away his ability to choose. Why should the universe dictate who he would love? At the end of the day, though, isn’t the universe always going to choose? Aren’t those old crones with their strings of fate always going to weave out the tapestry of his life anyway? Now that Henry’s sitting here, in front of him, vulnerable, soft, pliant… Alex isn’t so mad anymore. How could he be mad that the universe brought him Henry? Sweet Henry who talks about yesteryears like they were yesterday? Wonderful Henry, who blushes at compliments and diverts conversation back to Alex, like he’s an open book Henry is eager to devour. Henry, who has the quiet confidence of a man who knows exactly who he is, and what he stands for, and won’t be swayed from that. It’s easy to see why the universe had brought him Henry. Now that Henry’s here in front of him, now that Henry’s chosen him and he’s chosen Henry, Alex only feels elation to finally be seen.

Time for tags! Open tag to anyone who wants it, as always, and also tagging @zwiazdziarka , @sparklepocalypse , @anincompletelist , @firenati0n , @heysweetheart-writes , @firstsprinces , @piratefalls , @hgejfmw-hgejhsf , @sunnysideprince , @forever-fixating , @wordsofhoneydew , @itsmaybitheway , @taste-thewaste , @onthewaytosomewhere , @theprinceandagcd , @nocoastposts , @indestructibleheart , @magicandarchery