#magic crystal 1986

[of-fear-and-love]

Wong Mei-Mei (a.k.a. Wei Wei Huang), Richard Norton and Cynthia Rothrock fight scene from Magic Crystal (1986)

[the-swift-tricker]

I prefer the enchantment of a story told to one that is written down. In the oral tradition, where stories are told around the fireplace in semi-darkness, the words are alive: they leave the lips, enter into the air, and before they fall onto your ear they transform themselves into magic. They're not fixed; they change from telling to telling, and from listener to listener.

Brian Froud

[anne-chloe]

Trust Me | Seven |

Jareth/Goblin King x F! Reader

Summary : As Sarah's next door neighbour, you're often Mrs Williams' last resort as a babysitter. Sarah had never liked this, but she can be extremely unreliable at times. One stormy night, Sarah grows frustrated with her baby brother and babysitter, resulting in saying a phrase that she later wants to take back. Now, you are stuck in The Goblin Kings realm with little hope to returning home again, unless Sarah can reach the castle and defeat Jareth in time.

You practically threw yourself through the hallways, calling for Tobey and Jareth. Neither of them were anywhere to be seen, and they hadn't been with you when you woke up.

You sprinted down some steps, coming to a hallway with multiple rooms. You spun around in a circle, already feeling exasperated and overwhelmed from the choice. You couldn't risk being lost in The Goblin King's castle, not when Tobey needed you more than ever. Not when Sarah had jumped through hurdles to try and find you in the Labyrinth.

You picked a room at random. It was a library. You crossed into the middle and stared in awe at the thousands of books that lined the walls, each all rising hundreds of metres to the ceiling. You couldn't even see the top, it was that high up.

A glass ball rolled out from one of the aisles. It rolled towards you, landing against your foot. You immediately picked it up, watching with wide eyes as Jareth appeared, holding Tobey in one hand and a timer in the other.

8 minutes.

"You should stop interfering," Jareth warned, his amusement long since washed from his face. "You'll only cause yourself harm."

Frustrated with his words that constantly belittled you, you pulled your arm back and threw the glass ball across the room. It smashed against a bookshelf, shattering into tiny pieces. You spun around on your heel and headed for the door which you came from.

Locked.

It seemed as though Jareth was deliberately keeping you away. Perhaps Sarah was getting closer to him, and she was almost there to save Tobey.

Or maybe Jareth was sparing you some kindness, and he didn't want you to see Tobey turn into a Goblin? With only 8 minutes left on the timer, it was entirely possible that Sarah wouldn't make it.

You wandered over to the bookshelves.

But why would Jareth confront you like that? He was cruel and calculated; he wouldn't warn you away if you hadn't been getting close to him. Sure, he had locked you inside the library to keep you from leaving, but there must be another way to leave the library.

You looked at each book carefully, trying to find one that might seem out of place. Your fingers traced the leather bound books, feeling for something that you might not see straight away.

Then, you stopped.

A book that had been placed upside down. You bit your lower lip, praying that it would lead to some sort of secret entrance if you pulled it down. And as a satisfying click resounded through the air, you knew that your intuition had been correct.

To your right, a doorway opened up. You grinned and bolted for it, stepping into the darkness as the door shut behind you again. You glanced at the spiral staircase that only led up, meaning you'd have to follow it.

You climbed as fast as you could, not stopping to take a much needed breath. You couldn't waste any more time. You'd wasted roughly 2 minutes searching for that hidden door.

A glass ball came bouncing down the steps. You reached out to grab it, frowning as Jareth appeared once more. He looked annoyed, his lips curled downwards in upset.

"Can't you see that I'm trying to protect you? Everything I am doing is for you. Don't be such a brat." Jareth said through gritted teeth. "Turn back and wait for me. This will all be over soon."

You dropped the ball and let it continue bouncing down the steps, listening with a smile as it shattered at the very bottom. You continued upwards, feeling triumphant that you were beginning to make The Goblin King impatient with your disobedience.

If Sarah hadn't have made it to the castle, then you would have admitted defeat and sat quietly. But with the chaos in the city and Jareth warning you to stay away, it only meant that you were indeed getting closer to escaping. And that must be infuriating for Jareth.

You reached the top of the staircase and froze in surprise. You had entered the same staircase room from one of the first tricks Jareth had set up for you. You looked around frantically, seeing many more steps, all leading in awkward positions, upside down and on the walls, all defying gravity. You blinked in disbelief, another glass ball rolling to meet your feet.

You picked it up.

"Last chance, [Name]," Jareth muttered. "Go back to the throne room and wait for me. Don't make this any harder than it needs to be."

You ignored him and dropped the ball, once again listening to it smash into pieces at your feet. You stepped into the middle of the room and glanced around, taking in the sight of all the staircases. Which one did you need to get to? You couldn't tell, seeing as how they all overlapped one another. It made you feel dizzy.

Then, you gasped loudly, watching as Tobey came into view, crawling upside down, just out of reach.

"Tobey!" You called, watching as he looked down (or from his perspective, up) at you. He seemed to recognise you, and he laughed while holding out his hands, wanting you to grab him, to hold him. "Stay there!"

You bolted for the nearest staircase and made your way up. You entered through a doorway and reappeared at another staircase, furthest away from where you wanted to be. You knew this entire task would be frustrating, and so you kept your tongue in cheek as you moved on as fast as you could.

Then, to your surprise, you saw Sarah entering a doorway and reappearing across from you. She spotted you immediately, relief evident on her face. But you saw her distress and desperation. You knew that time was still ticking.

A glass ball bounced across the staircases. Your eyes followed its movements, and you flinched as it bounced into Jareth's hand. He stood closest to Tobey, who sat at his feet. Jareth moved away from Tobey and walked to the edge of the staircase, where he stepped off and plunged towards the floor bellow.

The ground opened up, showing a maze of more stairs underneath the floor.

"[Name], there's only 2 minutes left!" Sarah desperately called out. "How do we get down there?"

You peered over the edge. Your heart hammered in your chest. Jareth had free fallen all the way down, and it was clear his expectation was for you to follow him. So, you looked back over to Sarah, who began chewing her nails nervously.

"We jump," you told her.

Sarah looked at you incredulously, as if you had grown a second head. "Jump?" She repeated, "are you insane?!"

"Do you trust me?" You asked her, growing impatient with the time ticking away so fast.

Sarah nodded. "Of course I trust you."

And I trust The Goblin King.

You closed your eyes and stepped off the staircase, now falling fast into the endless abyss bellow. Wind whipped at your hair as the staircases passed you by, the ground finally coming into view.

Just before you hit the ground, someone caught you. You breathed a sigh of relief and slowly opened your eyes, tilting your head back up at Jareth, who merely scowled down at you. He seemed reluctant to set you down on the floor, his hands lingering at your sides.

Behind you, Jareth watched as Sarah floated to the floor. She landed gently, her eyes narrowed at him in distaste.

Sarah then joined your side, her hand grabbing yours. You hugged her gently, relieved that she was truly standing by your side again, and not as a Goblin, but as herself.

"Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the Goblin City," Sarah immediately started, reciting the very same lines she practiced repeatedly from her book. Her hand shook in yours, and you gave a reassuring squeeze.

All the while Sarah spoke, Jareth couldn't take his eyes off of you.

"To take back the child and keeper that you have stolen, for my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom is as great—"

"Stop," Jareth said, lifting up his hand and cutting Sarah off. He suddenly approached you, his hand grabbing your free one, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles. You found the gesture undeniably soothing, but you still continued to stare with a firmness at The Goblin King.

"Everything I have done has been for you. Your expectations have exhausted me. You don't have to leave here, you can stay. All I ask is that you fear me, worship me and love me." Jareth had somehow managed to pull you away from Sarah, who was watching in alarm.

He curled his arms around your waist, holding you close to his body, embracing you in a way that he feared would be his last. Jareth lowered his head, his lips brushing against your own, his eyes low and pleading. "Do all of this, and I will be your slave."

You lifted your hands, placing them delicately on either side of his head. You leaned forward and placed a lingering kiss on his lips. You pulled back, with Jareth looking hungry and desperate for more. But you smiled at him and slowly shook your head.

Having listened to Sarah a hundred times as she recited this speech, you knew exactly how it would end.

"You have no power over me."

And the bell chimed in the distance. Jareth's grip loosened on your waist, and you swore you saw tears in his eyes as he finally let you go.

The world began to crumble around you, and before a bright light consumed you, you found Sarah and pulled her into a protective embrace.

[laughableillusions]

Also looking at the blind Peddler!Jareth he fucking sucks at disguises like

There’s his fucking necklace right there

Very BLONDE hair and FAIR skin you have under that mask SIR

Not to mention your very HUMAN hands under BLACK LEATHER GLOVES

He’s like a fucking undercover cop trying to sell weed like you look at his shoes and it’s like “no thanks officer” dnkdskcndnfjdif

[the-common-cowgirl]

It’s Only Forever, Not Long at All…

Labyrinth AU Mini-Series. Each chapter based on the chronological soundtrack of the cult classic film, Labyrinth (1986).

Goblin King!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit - Warnings applied to each chapter

Summary: Your favorite teenage novel becomes your life as a silly mistake earns you a race against time to save your baby sister from the Goblin King, Aemond. As you race through his Labyrinth, he slowly grows enamored by you as he watches you through his crystal.

Chapter 1: Into the Labyrinth

Chapter 2: Magic Dance

Chapter 3: Sarah

Chapter 4: Chilly Down

Chapter 5: Hallucination

Chapter 6: As the World Falls Down

Chapter 7: The Goblin Battle

Chapter 8: Within You

Chapter 9: Thirteen O’Clock

Chapter 10: Home at Last

Epilogue: Underground

[storiesbyrhi]

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

Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence, swearing, no beta, warnings updated each chapter.

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

Chapter Summary: There are many different ways to heal. 3443 words.

1986

Forest Hills was not a quiet place to wake up to. This was likely because of the cavernous rips through the fabric of Hawkins, as opposed to being indicative of the residents’ natures. However, as soon as the sun rose, you didn’t stand a chance at a sleep in.

The bat was asleep when you checked on him. You wondered if he had got up during the night, like a bat should. Leaving him, you quietly put the kettle on and went about unpacking the few boxes and bags you’d arrived with.

When the trailer was as homely as you could make it, you sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the coffee table with a map of Hawkins laid out on it. You took a deep breath in and out, then held a long chain above the map. Secured to the end of the chain was a shard of clear quartz; a simple stone, but useful for scrying.

Focussing your thoughts, you watched the quartz slowly begin to sway from side to side. The movement picked up and it swung in a circle, then shot to a point on the map and dropped there. Picking up the crystal, you looked at the point. Forest Hills Trailer Park.

Trying again, the quartz repeated itself. Then, again. And, again.

You would not try a fifth time, leaving it be and reasoning that the crystal was picking up on you, since Hawkins was not used to a witch being on its land. At least, not anymore.

…

1845

The hem of your dress was drenched, splatters of mud flicking up and covering the fabric. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Nine years of violence. Nearly a decade of wasted energy, and this is what had become of the land your coven had called home since well before the French claimed ownership.

Back then, you’d lived off the land, co-existing with the Miami and the Potawatomi peoples. The coven learned from them, honouring their sovereignty. But later, there had been wars and treaties. A British take over. Death. So much death.

“Amabel!” It was your name then, something you changed often, cloaking your immortality. “Amabel. We must go. We must leave this place.”

They’d burned the field to the ground. Ash and dirt powdered the land. You stood in the middle of it all. That gnawing feeling you’d not been able to shake in years sitting in the back of your brain.

“If we stay, we will die. Our sisters will die. There is nothing more we can do.”

As the tears rolled down your cheeks, the clouds overhead grew darker.

Soon, within the next year, all that was left of the Native American tribes would be ordered out of Indiana. Your coven would be gone too, moved on, somewhere else, learning how to blend in with the people. Hiding magic. Writing history.

Your aunt crossed the field to where your mother was begging you to move. Thunder sounded out across the flatlands commonly known as Hawkins. Rain was imminent.

“Amabel. We do not have time for this. We have said our farewells to the wretched place. Come, now.”

Your mother took your hand and you fell in line behind the women.

…

1986

No witch had been near Roane County since 1845. Hawkins, though, had never been far from your thoughts. You had lived as Amabel for only a short period of time after leaving. Lustrating rituals gave each in your coven new names. Ora lived into the late 1800s, watching her sisters fall in love, have children, and pass the craft on. After Ora, another ritual christened you Sylvie. By the 1980s you had embodied the name you had offered to the bat when he woke up around midday.

“I guess you can’t tell me your name, huh?” you asked him.

As the bat crawled into your palm, you saw how the darkness had spread a little further across him. He seemed even slower than he had in the forest, and more willing to accept your human warmth. You raised your hand to your shoulder, letting the bat crawl and snuggle into the heat where your sweater met your neck. He clung to strands of hair and made the smallest of chittering sounds.

“So, scrying didn’t work… Which, you know, probably would have been too easy. Let’s consult the cards instead.”

The bat stayed nestled while you cut the deck and laid out a five-card spread on the trailer’s old carpeted floor.

“Do you want me to translate for you?” you asked the bat. “Our first card is… Two of Cups…” Two of Cups? “Card one represents the past, but… Two of Cups is the union of souls. True and lasting love… Maybe it’s…” But you were coming up short in your interpretation.

The second card, representative of the present, was Eight of Swords. Sighing with relief, that one made more sense.

The future was the third pulled card. Death. “Don’t worry,” you said to your friend. “Death doesn’t mean anyone’s dying. It can mean a lot of things… You know what, this is all messed up. I don’t… I don’t understand it.”

The messaging became even more complicated when you drew the Queen of Cups to represent the primary reasons for your current circumstances, and The Tower reversed for the potential of the circumstances.

“Right… Well… That’s all very… mysterious.”

You wanted divination to tell you why you were in Hawkins, what was calling you back to the town. Meaning wasn’t going to be handed to you. You picked up the cards and shuffled them into the deck.

“Guess all will be revealed,” you muttered.

Lunch was cheese and avocado sandwiches for you and fishing bait for the bat. Nowhere sold bat food, so you had to think outside the box. He seemed happy to have something other than fruit.

“Alright, friend,” you whispered to him as he ate. “You’re up next.”

While the bat chewed on worms, you laid out a bed of yarrow and rue on the coffee table and lit a blue candle. When the bat took your invitation to sit on top of the plants, you offered him a piece of jasper. He sat on top of it, making you smile.

“I hold you in my heart,

and wrap you in my love,” you began.

“Heal thyself, dear friend,

in this circle thereof.”

A sprig of yarrow was held to the flame.

“From earth I pulled this plant

as an offering I hope they receive.

Health and hearth,

and from sickness a reprieve.”

The yarrow burnt and the bat seemingly fell asleep on the bed of flowers. You sat with your back against the couch and waited until the blue candle was a dying flame and puddle of wax.

…

When the bat awoke, he felt different. Not only healed, his brown fur and pink limbs returned, but… aware. He flew from the witch’s alter and swooped through the trailer, looking for an exit. He was quiet and you were asleep, so he didn’t panic. Not at first.

There was no way out. No open windows or open vents. The best thing he could do was hide with a vantage point of the door and hope he could fly by you when you were on your way out.

The bat wondered where he was. Then, to his own horror, he wondered who and what he was.

…

When you woke, the sun was setting and the trailer was bathed in an orange glow. The plan had certainly not been to fall asleep. Sitting up, you looked for the bat on the coffee table, but he was gone.

That’s good, you thought. If he was not on the table, he’d made his way safely to somewhere else in the trailer. It meant he felt better. You figured he would appear when he wanted more bites of banana or wriggling worms.

Your second night in Hawkins was ordinary. Mundane, even. Sitting on the steps of your trailer, you ate Spaghetti-Os straight from the saucepan and listened. A witch’s ear is good.

The trailer park, more alive than usual with all its refugees and aid workers. The drone of the power plant not far away. Forests all around you, quieter than they should have been. There was a distinct decrease in wildlife in Hawkins, which filled you with grief. Over the train tracks, closer to town, the hum of people, machines, and despair.

You closed your eyes and listened harder. There was a pulsing coming from somewhere. You couldn’t pinpoint it. It wasn’t beneath the earth, nor above it. Everywhere and nowhere. It was him and his wild lightning and taste for suffering. You knew they called him Vecna. He wasn’t Henry anymore, nor a captive One. He had no name, an omen within itself.

It was hard to hear him and not interfere. It was worse to see the children soldiers in your mind, armoring up for a battle even the oldest witches could not predict. Was it an evil to not intervene? The lesser of the evil of giving him witchcraft.

You breathed out hard and opened your eyes.

Behind you, the bat had emerged from his hiding place. As he took flight, left through the open doorway you were sitting in, you watched his gothic form fly up and disappear into the gloomy purple night-time sky.

Smiling, you offered a small, “Slán agus ádh mór, a chara,” in a bittersweet moment. You already missed your bat friend.

...

In the morning, it was easy to find a place that needed your help. Hawkins High School’s gymnasium had been set up as a crisis center. Basic medical triage was offered and you didn’t even have to present identification or credentials. Once you’d introduced yourself and said you were a first responder, you’d been given a fully stocked first aid kit.

Minor cuts, bruises, and sprained ankles. You’d spent almost an hour picking glass out of one kid’s arm, healing the wound as you went so by the time he was bandaged up, he’d be almost entirely cured. Secretly you chipped away at the healing, nothing that could be considered miraculous. Just enough to ease pain and discomfort.

If nothing else came from the trip to Hawkins, this was all the justification you needed.

Mid-afternoon saw two teenagers come limping into the gym. You recognised them immediately from the visions your coven had seen. Robin Buckley had an arm pulled tightly around Erica Sinclair’s body, helping the smaller girl to an empty cot. You rushed over.

“What’s happened?” you asked.

“Leg! It’s her leg!” Robin yelled, then attempted to moderate her voice to the volume of the room.

Erica wasn’t actively crying but her stoic expression was a mask for the pain she was in. Tears streaked down her face and she took a sharp intake of oxygen as you pulled up the leg of her jeans.

“Can you help?” Robin asked, eyes on the door as she jittered on the spot.

“Do you need to go? She’ll be safe here.”

Erica snorted and rolled her eyes.

“I… They… No, no, I’ll stay,”

“Go,” Erica instructed.

You started to clean the wound, examining it. It was as if something had coiled around her leg, burning her in the process. A corrosive rope burn. Not the type of thing that happened in an earthquake.

“Lucas will kill me,”

“Since when have either of us listened to that nerd? And besides, isn’t Steve the babysitter?”

“Uhhhh, shit, okay. Okay,” Robin conceded. She looked at you. “Don’t let her die,”

“I’m not gonna die!” Erica yelled. “So, go.”

Robin nodded and left, bolting from the room. As soon as nobody was there to see her struggle, Erica let out a shaky breath.

“How old are you?”

“Eleven,”

“Pretty brave eleven-year-old,” you told her. She didn’t respond. “Strange injury.” Still, she said nothing. “How’d you get it?”

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you,” she replied, delivery measured and serious.

You smiled at her. “Hang around in this town long, something’s probably gonna beat you to it anyway, right?”

Erica eyed you suspiciously.

The wound wouldn’t need stitches or graphs or any Western medicine. It would need magic to heal. You could feel it in Erica. There was something bad in the burning. As you dabbed at her leg with antiseptic, you healed her in a way that was definitely a miracle. Before she could notice, you’d covered it with gauze and bandages, more than she needed.

“If you won’t give yourself a day to rest, then take a couple hours at minimum. Whatever is going on out there isn’t over. If they need you, they need you strong. A couple hours, okay?”

“Who are you? Who do you work for?”

“I’m… a healer… and I don’t work for anybody. I’m just here to help,” you answered, motioning to the beds of people around you.

Erica didn’t agree to the few hours, nor did she say goodbye, but you let her go and wondered if you had been so precocious and fearless when you were but a baby.

…

After one night in the tallest treetops near Forest Hills, the bat tried to rest, but his consciousness would not allow it. He was close to a panic, his new awareness keeping him from any animal behaviour. Instead, he watched you leave your trailer.

As you drove into town and spent the day helping and healing, the bat was never far away. Upon sunset, you returned home to find him sitting on your trailer’s doorstep. Whatever had changed in him, it was like you could see it.

You’d stopped walking, looked at him from a safe distance. “Hi,” you greeted, unsure what the bat was doing back. Maybe he was hungry. The eco-system had been disrupted enough that perhaps his food sources were limited.

The bat watched you as you took a step closer. Then another.

“Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” you asked him.

The bat hopped aside as you unlocked the door and followed you in upon invitation.

You put your bag down and sat on the couch. The bat flew across the room and perched himself on the edge of the coffee table directly in front of you. There was something eerie about him. Not threatening, not dangerous, but still very, very off.

“This might come as a shock, but I’ve never had a familiar. Or a pet. I don’t know what you want,” you told him. “But that’s… that’s not it, is it?” You thought for a moment. “Okay, well, I could take you to a vet… or we could…” Before you could finish the sentence, the thought shut you up. Could you really consult The Witches Who Came Before? After disregarding their previous advice? No. Not for a bat.

“I’m gonna make a phone call.”

The bat watched as you stood and walked to your bag, looking for the small notebook you kept for numbers and other important bits and pieces. Once you’d located Kelsey’s number, you dialed. Looking back at the fuzzy creature on the coffee table, you nodded at him. “She’ll know what to do.”

The phone rang only twice. “Hellllloooooo?”

“Hey, Kels, it’s-”

“Yeah, I know who it is. You’ve really pissed off some of the sisters,” she said with a laugh. “You really went back to Hawkins?”

“Yeah, I did. Look, I need your help,”

“My help?! Dude, are you trying to get me exiled as well?”

“I’m not exiled,” you replied, the inflection in your voice hooking up at the end of the sentence like you were asking a question.

“I mean… Not yet…”

“I’m not exiled. There’s a reason I came back. I’m meant to be here. But it doesn’t matter. This isn’t about Hawkins. I need your help with a bat,”

“A bat?”

“Yeah, like, the animal,”

“Yeah, no, I know the animal. Didn’t think you were chipping a baseball bat out of a tree. What are you doing with a bat?”

In order to not just survive but to thrive, a witch must adapt to each age of human culture. Sometimes though, one would find herself truly suited to a time or place. Take your coven sister Blair, for example. She mourned the end of the Elizabethan era and refused to modify her vocabulary or mannerisms. In line at Walmart, she was all ‘good morrow’ and ‘doth thou possess thine grape juice?’ Most though, were undetectable as agents of immortality. And, you and Kelsey, well anyone would have guessed you were modern women living in a second-wave feminism world.

“I don’t know. I just found him, and he was sick, so I did the burning yarrow healing spell-”

Kelsey stopped you. “Wait. Slow down. You did that healing spell on a bat?”

“Yes,” you confirmed, then waited for her to speak again.

Instead, she laughed. “You go to a town under the pretense of helping people and instead casting a healing spell on a bat?”

“It’s not pretense! I am helping people. But I have limited resources here, Kels. And the bat was-”

“Sick, yeah, you said. Well, there are spells for animals, but I’d have to go through some of the old grimoires. Why’d you even try it? You know human spells don’t work for ani-”

“It did work.”

Kelsey was silent on the other end of the line.

You’d been watching the bat for the whole conversation and he’d not moved once. He was like a statue. A very small and cute, but unnerving statue.

“What?” The humour had gone from Kelsey’s voice. “It can’t have,”

“It did… Look, it’s bad here. More than those kids can handle. I have to accept that, but the bat… I think that’s what had poisoned him. I didn’t have the grimoires or an entire garden and apothecary at my disposal. I cast the burning yarrow spell… And, whatever was wrong went away.”

Kelsey was quiet again. Then, “So, what’s the problem?”

“He’s… different…”

“What do you mean different?” You’d known Kelsey for all your different lives. That was fear in her voice, no mistaking.

“He seems… I don’t know how to describe it… Like he knows… or understands…” You really couldn’t explain it.

“I think you need to take this higher up in the coven,”

“No, I can’t. Why? What’s wrong?”

“Fuck,” Kelsey said under her breath. “Look, if that spell worked on the bat then it’s not a bat. It could have only worked if it’s human. Or at least, has been human at some point. And depending on which spell you used, you could have healed more than illness,”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, a hex or… something…”

“He’s definitely a bat,” you told her. “I’m looking at him right now,”

“But is he looking back at you? Like, does he see you? ‘Cause yarrow's not powerful to undo a real deal curse, you know? So maybe you just shifted things around a little. Knocked some human back into him. If you did, that’s kind of fucked up.”

Your blood ran cold.

The bat was not just a bat.

And the bat knew it too.

“How do I fix it? How do I help him?!”

“I don’t know! I’m not an expert in bats or curses or fucking up spells! I don’t think there’s even a spell to like… fix it. You’d have to write a new spell and hope you don’t torture it any more than you have.”

You’d started to cry, horrified at the thought of what you’d done to something… someone that had already suffered a hex.

“Look,” Kelsey said in a soft voice. She hated to hear you upset. “Magic is intention and will. You’ve got some big feelings now. Give it a try. If nothing works, call me again and I’ll come to you…”

“Okay,” you squeaked out.

“And, like, what if this is what was calling you to Hawkins? Maybe you were meant to go and right a wrong. Uncurse a bat…”

“Thanks, Kels. Thank you,”

“Don’t mention it… Seriously. Do not tell another soul that I’ve condoned any of this rebellion.”

You laughed and sniffled. “I won’t. Bye,”

“Bye, babe.”

You hung up the phone and walked to the bathroom to splash water on your face. At the vanity, you hung your head over the sink and let the water cool you. As you stood up straight and looked at your reflection, the bat swooped in and sat on your shoulder.

“We can do this,” you said to him. “I’ll fix it. I promise.”

End Note: A special shout to my friend @toomanyacorns for reading through the first few chapters of this story and for being a resource into all things history. Also, the timeline is posted and will be updated with each chapter, along with the Grimoire.

Fic Taglist: @kaitebugg03 @paranoidmunson @munsonsbait @idkidknemore @paprikaquinn @stardustworlds @loz-brooke @wyverntatty @vintagehellfire @dark-academia-slut @scarletwitchwhore @becks1002 @mrsdollardog @heyndrix @luceneraium @rosaline-black @devilinthepalemoonlite @goldencherriess @iamwhisperingstars @wiltedwonderland @blueywrites @breezybeesposts @jadehowlettthewolf @spikesvamp79 @foreveranexpatsposts @tortoiseshellspells @wingedpeachjudgegiant @stardustmunson @live-love-be-unique @fangirling-4-ever @reanimated-alice @b-irock @gh0stlybunnie @myown-worstenemy-2003

All Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @sweetpeapod @thorfemmes  @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob  @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @mel-the-fangirl

[xalygatorx]

My Fanfiction Masterlist | AO3 profile

Link tree to anything fanfiction-related that I write and post. Also a teaser source for upcoming chapter titles and future fics.

Death in Pink is a Hazbin Hotel OC fic and my current active project. Anything related is tagged with #death in pink fic.

Unbound is in progress but is currently on hiatus. Anything related is tagged with #unbound fic.

Powerless is queued to post a chapter every Thursday through late May (but is posted in full on AO3 if you'd rather not wait).

NO AI TRAINING: Without in any way limiting the author’s exclusive rights to their works under copyright, any use of the associated publications to “train” generative artificial intelligence (AI) technologies to generate text is expressly prohibited.

Death in Pink (Alastor x Fem!OC, WIP), only on AO3

Hazbin Hotel

Death in Pink

Death in Pink (Alastor x Fem!OC, WIP ✍️) (AO3)

That Darn Cat! | A "Death in Pink" Cursed Cat Alastor Adventure (AO3)

What If? | Death in Pink AU Oneshots (AO3)

Art from Death in Pink (AO3)

Concepts for Adelie's character design (regular and demon forms)

Not Death in Pink

Something Good (RadioApple Sound of Music AU, WIP ✍️) (AO3)

Baldur's Gate 3

Unbound (Astarion x Fem!OC, WIP ✍️ on hiatus)

Loser, Baby - [an Unbound crack!fic]

Labyrinth (1986)

Powerless (2017, Jareth x Fem!OC, complete) | AO3

Chapter 1, The Crystal Peach

Chapter 2, Into the Labyrinth

Chapter 3, The Girl Who Forgot Everything

Chapter 4, One of Us

Chapter 5, Everything I've Done

Chapter 6, Falling Down

Chapter 7, Through Dangers Untold

Chapter 8, Dance Magic

Chapter 9, And Hardships Unnumbered

Chapter 10, Reorderment of Time

Chapter 11, No Ordinary Girl

Chapter 12, It's Only Forever

Chapter 13, Not Long At All

Chapter 14, Eyes So Cruel

Chapter 15, I Wish

Chapter 16, The Babe with the Power

Chapter 17, Within You

Chapter 18, New Dreams & Foolish Hearts

Chapter 19, The Right Words

Chapter 20, Between the Stars (END)

Marvelverse (films-specific)

Worthy (2015, Loki x Fem!OC, complete ✅) (AO3)

[jiliansky-blog]

The Labyrinth of Dreams. Chapter 1. King of goblins

Pairing: Morpheus x FemaleReader

Rating: PG

Words: 1480

Summary: The idea of crossover came to me after a few arts and rewatching Labyrinth (1986). Jareth is a nightmare and while Morpheus was captured, he escaped to reality. And he wants to take down Morpheus. Elisabeth is a daughter of Sarah and want to find Labyrinth. And Jareth wants to use her against Morpheus. But something went wrong...

I was looking into a crystal with irritation. Morpheus was back. And now my time as a real thing was gone. While he was away, I could live whatever I liked. Outside the labyrinth. Not exist only in girls' dreams of escape. Now he will lock me up in the labyrinth again. But this time I won’t make it easy for him. I have my own little nightmare kingdom to rule. And maybe, I can make Morpheus pay for everything. I just need to find someone who helps me.

And I knew who could. The daughter of my precious Sarah. She was eighteen years old already. And she looks like just her mother. Maybe, she will be more agreeable than her mother. And I also can send “hello” to Sarah as well. Elisabeth, her name, is such a dreamer. Just like her mother again. She wants to have a fantasy dream and I will give it to her. And I know that Morpheus will be charmed by her. And do everything, especially if he thinks that she is my prisoner.

Elisabeth “Mom, when I can get into this world of yours?” I asked, looking through the books. My mother actually wrote her own story about the Labyrinth and illustrated it herself. She wanted once to be an actress just like her mother, my grandmother, who I’ve never known. But her wish disappeared after the Labyrinth and the school play. And she wanted to be the children's writer and illustrator. I couldn’t blame her for this. I’ve grown up on her books and stories. “How I can get here?” I asked.

“I think, you already forgot about it”, she said. “I didn’t tell you the story for a long time. And you are grown up already”. “Anyway”, I said. “I'm still interested in this”, I said. “You shouldn’t wish for this”, she said firmly. “I said foolishly once about taking my stepbrother. And he took him. He can listen to you too”. “Well, you can make him go away, so can I”, I smiled. “Oh, Beth”, she sighed. “There is nothing for you there. He is not a charming prince. He is cruel and can steal you away”. “I don’t want to be with him”, I assured her. “I just want to see his world myself”.

“Why?” she asked. “It’s not beautiful. You can’t even find the way out”. “If you can find the way, I can find the way too”, I denied. “Perhaps, I can even meet your old friends. It would be…” “No!” This time her voice was sharp. “You need to know, I made this all up. Because I was lonely after my mother’s death and felt like Cinderella”. “What?” I asked surprised. “I didn’t want to upset you”, she sighed again. “It was just a story. And I want you to move on and live an ordinary life”.

“Then why do you make me believe in this story all this time?” I asked, not quite believing her this time. It was too sudden. “You need to understand, Elisabeth”, mother said. “Your belief in magic is charming, but you need…you don’t need to prevent it from living your real life”. “I can’t believe”, I said and stepped back. “And I don’t know what is worse. The you could lie to me, or you to break everything I believe in”.

“Beth…”, she said softly. “Because of course all the conversations that grandpa made with you help you grow up, don’t?” I asked and went to the door. “Beth, come back!” she called. “I’m not Beth!” I replied. “I’m Elisa”. And I angrily leave my parent’s house.

Morpheus “We have a problem, my lord”, said Lucienne, when I was trying to create a new dream.

“What else, Lucienne?” I looked at her. “It's Jareth, my lord”, she said. “He returned to the Labyrinth”. “And why this is a problem?” I asked. “He supposed to stay there”. “Yes, I know, but while you were away he escaped and had affairs with the human woman”, she said. “And now some of the nightmares gathered there”. “They gathered in the Labyrinth?” I asked. “Why?” “I think he is up to something”, the librarian said. “He may not be as obvious as Corinthian and may more be subtle”. “Corinthian tried to communicate to Vortex”, I said. “It wasn’t subtle”. “Anyway”, she answered. “I would suggest looking after him”. “I will, Lucienne”, I nodded. “Thank you for telling me”.

She nodded also and left. And I sighed. Another rebellion Nightmare. He should provide a sweet escape for lost girls. And now what does he want? I dissolved a new dream because I couldn’t concentrate on my work anymore. I need to check him and see myself. Jareth wasn’t surprised to see me in his castle when I appeared. He was sitting on his improvised throne and smirking. “What’s so funny?” I asked. “I was just thinking, when you will pay me the visit”, he replied. “Don’t you try to go through the labyrinth? It would be so much fun”. “I know all your tricks, king of goblins”, I said. “And I don’t need to go through your labyrinth for this is my kingdom. And you are still my subject”.

“And you come all this way to remind me of this, my lord?” he asked sarcastically. “I almost forgot, while you were…gone”. “I’m here now”, I admitted. “And I heard that in your castle some nightmares found the shelter. Why?” “You told it yourself, lord Morpheus”, he smirked. “They want a shelter. They want a leader. At least, while you were gone”. “I hope, you won’t be foolish enough to make a stupid decision”, I said coldly. “Like make a rebellion. I’m still king of dreams and nightmares”. “Of course, you are”, he said. “I don’t want to repeat the fate of Corinthian”. “Good”, I nodded and went back to the castle.

Jareth Morpheus getting suspicious, but it doesn’t change anything. He won’t see what’s coming. And as far as I can see, little Elisabeth has a fight with Sarah. Just like her mother did before she went to the Labyrinth. Perfect time to interfere.

Elisabeth I can’t believe she told me that. She made me believe that everything in Labyrinth happened in real. And now she told me it was a lie. It just doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t matter. I will find a way to prove that everything is real. I will bring something from that place. Mother not only gifted me her book, but her copy of the original book. It was another story of the princess Sarah, who got into the Labyrinth. And she also faced Jareth, the Goblin king. So if my mother could get there, then another girl was there too. And she probably left too and took the child that Jareth had stolen. I didn’t know what I would do in their place. Perhaps, I would stay and can turn this unwelcome and hostile labyrinth into something else. Something far more beautiful. And with these thoughts, I fell asleep. Some noise wakes me up. And when I opened my eyes and turned on the light I saw that the window was open. It was strange. When I closed it, I sensed someone’s presence in the room. And turned around slowly.

“Hello, Elisabeth”, the stranger said. It was a man tall man in dark sparkly clothes. His hair was messy and white. Eyes were grey and cold. He wasn’t handsome but was charming. “It is you”, I said. “You're the Goblin king, aren’t you?”

“Yes”, he smirked. “My name is Jareth”. “I didn’t call you to steal some of my family”, I admitted. “But you were thinking about me”, he smiled. “Sarah…Your mother told you about me. She told a story about it”. “Yes”, I nodded. “What do you want then? An act of revenge?” “I want to make you my queen”, he smiled. “I know what you dream about. Adventures, love, to have an interesting life in another world”. “Is that some sort of trick?” I asked. “No, I can give you all of that”, Jareth said. “And in return, you will help me with something. To defeat someone who can threaten our life”.

«Our life?” I asked, confused. “Yes”, he nodded. “You will be the queen of my kingdom. You can rearrange it however you want. What do you say?” It was a temptation. But my mother’s voice echoed through my head. She said don’t call for Jareth. And here he is. Anyway. And I always want to find the Labyrinth. And that’s it. My chance. “I agree”, I said. “Good”, he smiled. “You look like your mother. But you are not like her at the same time. Then come with me, future queen of mine”. He gave me a hand and I took it. That was the adventure I was waiting for.

@shadowqueen1318 @mypsychoticlove @justathirstyhoe​ @ladymoztaza

[skylarstark4826]

"Persistive vegetative state... damage too extensive... nothing more we can do... life support..."

Jerry Williams numbly listened as a neurologist spoke in a soft, dispassionate voice and damned his daughter to a hellish existence. Not a life — an existence.

"No," Karen wailed suddenly and Jerry jerked slightly as the loud sound shattered the air. "If you turn off those machines, she'll die. You said so yourself."

The doctor arranged his expression into one of detached sympathy. "Mrs. Williams, I am sorry, but when that horse threw your stepdaughter, the fall broke her neck and her spinal cord was severed. In addition, the damage done when her head stuck the rock... She has no awareness of herself or of her condition, and there is no chance for improvement."

Jerry Williams vaguely registered the sound of his wife's muted sobbing as he nodded slightly at the doctor and turned back toward the dark-haired woman lying silent and unmoving on the hospital bed. Countless tubes that breathed for her, dripped nutrition into her body, and carried waste away almost obscured his baby girl completely.

'Oh, Sarah,' he thought, gently brushing his fingers over her pale forehead. 'How am I ever going to be strong enough to let you go?'~*~

At home, Jerry and Karen told Toby of their decision, speaking as gently as possible to the eleven-year old boy.

"No," he shouted, his face going white. "You can't kill her. Sarah will be fine. She has to be fine."

"Toby, sweetie," Karen whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks, "She's not going to be fine. She's not ever going to wake up. No matter how much we wish that she would get better, she's not. It's best if we let her go be with God."

"God," Toby spat out contemptuously. "You said if we prayed, then everything would be okay. Well, I prayed over and over, and it's not okay. It's not!"

He jumped up and fled the living room, running to the safe haven of his bedroom. Pacing the floor, silent tears streaming down his face, Toby tried to figure out what to do. There had to be something to do. He couldn't just let them kill Sarah. He didn't care what they said. Sarah had always told him that he could have anything that he wanted if he just wanted it badly enough. She would be all right if he just knew what to do.

"No matter how much we wish..."

Toby froze in mid-step.

"God isn't listening," he said fiercely. "But maybe somebody else will."~*~

In the attic, Toby found the box that held the things that Sarah had packed away ten years ago. She'd told him the story of their adventures in the Underground many times throughout those ten years. She had warned him never to repeat those tales, that no one would believe that they were real.

And she had told him of the crystal she had found in his crib upon their return.

"He threw it to you when we were in that awful room. I guess you just held onto it." The echo of Sarah's voice whispered through his mind. "I don't think that it's anything more than a crystal ball now. But I put it away. It's better to be safe than sorry."

Toby's hands shook as he opened the carton and moved the music box and the other things to the side. His fingers touched something hard and round wrapped in layers of tissue paper.

He pulled at the paper, shredding it carelessly until a clear sphere rested in his palm. He held it up and watched, fascinated, as light seemed to gather inside the crystal, causing it to glow faintly.

He screwed up his courage and said clearly, "I wish I could talk to the Goblin King right now."

Sarah had told him of the storm, the lightning and thunder that preceded the Goblin King's visit. She'd told him of the owl bursting into the room and the sparkling shower of magic that announced his arrival, and as soon as Toby had made his wish, he turned toward the window and waited.

But nothing happened.

The night outside remained still and calm. Toby strained his ears but couldn't hear even the faintest sound of thunder, and no owl appeared to scratch at the glass, demanding entrance.

His shoulders slumped and his head bowed. "It's not fair," he whispered.

"I truly detest that phrase," a melodious voice said from behind him.

Toby whirled to find a tall blond man leaning casually against the wall, his arms folded over his chest. Long hair fluttered softly about his shoulders, even though Toby couldn't feel any breeze in the room. The man was dressed in a pair of beige breeches and a white shirt open almost to his waist, revealing an odd medallion hanging from a cord around his neck. His mismatched eyes gleamed with secretive mirth as he regarded Toby.

"I—" Toby swallowed and tried again, shock causing him to blurt out the first thing that crossed his mind. "I thought you dressed all in black."

The man arched an eyebrow. "I only wear my formal attire when someone has been wished away. And that hasn't happened. Yet." He gave a predatory smile, and his voice lowered to a confidential tone. "But you are considering wishing someone away to me." His nostrils flared delicately. "I can smell it on you."

His eyes narrowed when he saw the crystal held limply in Toby's hand.

"Where did you get that?" the Goblin King demanded sharply.

"Sarah said that you gave it to me," Toby said, his voice shaking.

The Goblin King tilted his head. "Sarah?" he repeated in a remote tone, and his eyes narrowed. "You are her brother."

Toby nodded. "I need your help."

"My help?" The Goblin King looked astonished for a moment. "Why ever would you need my help?"~*~

They sat side by side on a trunk in the attic, the eleven-year-old mortal boy and the ageless Goblin King. The tear-stained face of the boy was a stark contrast to the emotionless expression the king wore.

"Will you help me?" the boy entreated. "Will you make her well?"

"I'm not certain it's possible," the king replied quietly.

Toby looked stricken. "But Sarah said... Sarah said that you could do anything."

"She said that?" Jareth looked pleased for a moment, and then he gave a small sigh. "From what you have told me, Sarah has been irreparably damaged."

Toby's face fell. His eyes narrowed suspiciously, and he jumped up to face the Goblin King. "You hate her," he accused. "Sarah was right. You hate her, and that's why you won't help."

"I do not hate her," Jareth snapped, taken aback by the boy's sudden hostility. His manner softened as Toby's words sank in. "Sarah thinks I hate her? Why would she assume such a thing?"

Toby nodded. "Because you wouldn't talk to her. She said she called and called you, but you wouldn't come. She said that's when she knew you hated her." Toby hesitated and then said, "She doesn't think I know, but sometimes... sometimes it made her cry."

For a split second, an unreadable emotion flickered through the Goblin King's eyes. "When she said those words, I was no longer able to hear her call." Jareth said softly. "I no longer had any power over her. I still do not. She hasn't rescinded the words. Now, it seems, she won't be able to do so."

"But if I wish her away, then you will have power, right?" Toby said hopefully. "And you can make her all better.'

Jareth shook his head slightly. How could he explain to the boy that in her current condition, the strain of transporting Sarah into the Underground would surely kill her?

Jareth thoughtfully tapped his lips with a gloved finger. But there was one way...

His eyes locked on the boy.

"I am not certain you realize what you ask, Toby. If you wish Sarah away to the goblins, then she goes away with me. She cannot remain here."

Tears welled up in Toby's eyes, and his bottom lip trembled. "I'd rather that she was alive with you than..." His voice trailed off and his breath hitched in his chest.

"Then we must come to an understanding," Jareth said. "If I do this, you must swear that you will not choose to run the labyrinth in an effort to get Sarah back."

"But... but..." Toby stammered.

Jareth merely arched an eyebrow and regarded the boy evenly.

"Are you going to change her into a goblin?" Toby asked suspiciously.

"Of course not," Jareth said, frowning slightly.

The boy dropped his eyes for a long moment and then looked back up at Jareth. "Are you a bad man?"

"What?" Jareth blinked in surprise.

"Sarah said that she thought you were only pretending to be bad because she expected you to be. She said she didn't think you were really bad."

"I won't harm her, if that is what concerns you." Jareth's eyes glittered with sudden amusement and sharp white teeth gleamed as he smiled. "But she's wrong. I can be a very bad man. However, I assure you that Sarah will not mind in the least."

Toby looked confused, and Jareth waved a gloved hand, dismissing his concerns. "I promise she will be happy and content. Do we have an agreement?"

Hesitantly, Toby nodded. "Okay, we have a deal."

"Well, then," Jareth said, "when and where did this accident occur?"~*~

Sarah looked up and frowned as the sky darkened. The weather report had mentioned the possibility of thunderstorms but had claimed they would be well to the east. Apparently, the weather forecast was wrong again, but she thought she had enough time to finish her ride before the storm grew to full force.

Raindrops pattered against the leaves covering the forest floor, and the wind picked up sharply as Sarah urged her horse into a canter. She wasn't as comfortable on this particular animal as she would have liked, but it couldn't be helped. The riding stable had already given the gentle mare she normally rode to another rider.

Sarah enjoyed riding; it was a bit expensive, but it was a chance to get away from everything and just relax. No boss demanding a last minute report be pushed to the top of her priority list and no well-meaning Karen wondering if she'd "met any nice young men lately". There was nothing but Sarah, the horse and the riding trail through the pretty woods behind the stables.

Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled, causing the horse dance skittishly. As Sarah held the reins firmly and fought to bring the animal back under control, she had a sickening moment of déjà vu. The sense that something terrible was about to happen was overwhelming.

She shook it off quickly. She had to get back to the stables. This storm was moving much faster than she'd anticipated.

As she turned the horse back, she caught a glimpse of an owl gliding silently between the trees. She pulled the horse to a stop as a dark figure stepped into the path ahead of her, blocking her way.

Her eyes widened in disbelief. The Goblin King stood before her, just as beautiful and as indomitable as she remembered. His long blond hair and black cape whipped in the rapidly rising wind.

But it couldn't be him. In all the years since she'd left the Underground, he'd never answered her, no matter how many times she had invoked his name. No matter how much she had wanted to see him again.

Jareth glanced up at the sky, his eyes widening in alarm at the dark clouds roiling overhead and called, "Now, Toby."

"Jareth?" Sarah whispered.

Lightning struck with a sizzling crack, so close that the hair on Sarah's head rose with the static charge, and the reek of ozone filled the air. In the split second of stillness following the strike, the horse gave a trembling jerk and gathered itself, preparing to bolt.

In his bedroom, twenty miles away, Toby peered into the crystal left to him by the Goblin King. With tears streaming down his cheeks, he said quickly, "I wish the goblins would come and take Sarah away, right now."

Thunder roared down from the skies, shuddering the trees and shaking the very earth. The horse screamed shrilly in fear and bucked wildly, then galloped frantically toward the safety of the stables.

But it had no rider.

Sarah and the Goblin King were gone.~*~

They appeared in his throne room and Sarah quickly looked around in confusion. Goblins were everywhere. Some were racing around the room in a manic game of keep-away; some were dancing to music that only they could hear, while still others lay in inebriated heaps, far too drunk to move. At their ruler's appearance, the goblins slowly stopped what they were doing. Dozens of curious eyes turned toward them.

Sarah whirled to face the man who had brought her here.

"What's going on?" she cried.

"Your brother wished you away," Jareth said, clasping his hands behind his back. "I've granted his wish."

"Toby wouldn't do that." Sarah shook her head. "He knows better." This was a dream. It had to be a dream.

"He did it in order to save your life," Jareth said with a faint smile.

"What are you talking about? I'm fine," she said, perplexed.

"In another second you would have been thrown from your horse and left lying as close to death as any mortal can be without actually dying," Jareth said quietly. "Your family was on the brink of removing the machines that kept your body clinging to life when your brother called for me."

"How can you know that?" she whispered, appalled at the images his words brought to mind and she fleetingly remembered that horrible sense of déjà vu.

"Because it had already happened." Jareth tilted his head and his eyes bored into hers. "I have reordered time for you once again, Sarah."

"This... This is insane." Her eyes widened suddenly. "Oh, god, is Toby in the labyrinth?"

"No," Jareth said, shaking his head. "There will be no one to run the labyrinth on your behalf. You are now my subject."

"I don't understand. Why would he wish me away and then not... Why would you do this? What do you want?" She stiffened suddenly. "Revenge?"

He laughed softly. "Because I hate you?"

Pain flickered in her eyes, and then it was gone. Sarah lifted her chin defiantly. "Well, don't you?"

Jareth glanced around the room and frowned at the goblins that were hanging on their every word. He'd never known them to be so quiet without being directly threatened.

He waved his hand, and suddenly Sarah found that they were standing in the sitting area of a large suite. A quick glance around at the masculine décor and the large four-poster bed had her gasping in alarm. Why had he brought her to his bedroom? Just what kind of revenge did he want?

She anxiously edged away from him.

"What are we doing here?" she spat out.

He lifted an eyebrow. "I wish to speak to you in private."

"And we have to do it in your bedroom?" she asked suspiciously.

He gave a delighted smile. "Do I make you uncomfortable, Sarah?"

She tensed and then lifted her head high. She wasn't going to let him get the better of her. "Not at all."

His smile widened to a grin.

"Liar," he said softly.

Sarah dropped her eyes. "Send me home."

"You are home," Jareth said imperiously as he tugged a glove more snugly into place. "You were wished away to me and there's no one attempting to retrieve you. In exchange for saving your life, your brother agreed not to challenge me. I did not believe that you would want the child in the labyrinth. Was I wrong in making that assumption?"

"No, you weren't wrong." Sarah's shoulders drooped. "But you still haven't explained what you're getting out of this."

Jareth didn't answer for so long that Sarah thought he was simply going to ignore her. When he finally spoke, his voice was oddly strained.

"I want a companion," Jareth answered. "I am alone far more often than I would choose."

Startled, she looked into his eyes.

When Jareth glanced away first, Sarah almost reeled in shock. He never retreated, never. Was he really so very lonely?

"Just what type of companion do you want?" she asked slowly.

When she accepted his words calmly, he smiled slightly and reached out a hand to lightly hover over her hair.

"That will depend upon you and what type of companion you wish to be," he said softly. His fingers briefly caressed the air above her hair, and then he moved his hand away.

Was he implying... Her mouth went dry. He was so close that she could see little flecks of gold in his eyes.

"Why now? Why not months ago? Years ago? I called—" Sarah closed her mouth abruptly.

Jareth's smile turned knowing. "You called for me."

"And you ignored me," she said, her voice sharp.

"I could not hear you, Sarah. Your brother told me that you had called. If I had but known, I would have answered." He stepped closer and his voice lowered to a near whisper. "Why did you call for me?"

She fidgeted with the hem of her sweater. Talking to him when she was prepared and had mentally rehearsed everything she wanted to say was one thing; standing across from Jareth in his bedroom and blurting out her questions was quite another. She took a deep breath and plunged ahead.

"I wanted to know if... if you make the same offer to every girl who goes through the labyrinth," Sarah stammered, her cheeks reddening.

"You mean this?" As he spoke, he was suddenly holding a crystal. Jareth idly wove it through his hands in a casual display of skill before holding it out to her. "A trifle that will show you your dreams? I offer this to everyone in exchange for the child they have wished away."

"That's not what I'm talking about." Sarah shook her head.

Jareth grinned briefly and, with a twist of his wrist, the crystal vanished.

"Yes, I know," he said.

He moved even closer, and Sarah had to struggle to catch her breath. He smelled like a heady mixture of flowers and spices and leather.

"You were such a devastating age," Jareth murmured. "Too old to simply give the child up in frustration and yet too young to be seduced away from your quest. Nothing worked. It fascinated me that no matter the distractions placed before you, you ignored them and continued on. You were so innocent." Regret tinged his voice. "Too innocent to understand."

"You still haven't answered my question," she persisted. "Do you make the same offer to every girl?"

"No," Jareth said quietly. "I had never made that offer before nor have I made it since."

Her eyes widened, but before she could ask anything else, Jareth stepped back.

"Come along, Sarah." He gestured toward the door. "I'll have a room prepared for you."~*~

While the servants were cleaning her room, Jareth gave Sarah a brief tour of the castle.

Surprisingly, there were very few goblins to be seen. Jareth explained that he tried to keep them contained to certain areas of the castle.

"They tend to congregate here, even though they have homes of their own," he said, shaking his head. "They're like children in many respects. They're happier surrounded by their own kind."

"Are you the only..." Sarah's voice trailed off. She wasn't even sure what Jareth was.

"Yes," he said gravely. "In this kingdom, I am the only of my kind."

He volunteered no further explanation and Sarah decided it would be rude to ask. At least, right now.~*~

When they returned to her room — next to his suite, she noted — it had been made ready. While not overly lavish, it was comfortable, and it was obvious that effort had been expended to make it cheerful. Vases of flowers were standing around the room, and the curtains were drawn back to reveal an open set of doors that led out onto a small balcony containing two chairs and a table. A quick glance confirmed that Jareth's much larger balcony was right next door.

Sarah walked out and looked down on the sweeping view of the labyrinth. Sections of the huge maze were brightened here and there with splashes of color. Flowers, she realized. There were whole areas that were covered with flowers.

"It's much prettier than I remember," she said.

"It can be beautiful," Jareth replied, walking to her side. He leaned forward, resting his hands on the stone railing. "But it has the potential to be very dangerous. I would prefer that you do not enter the labyrinth unless I accompany you."

'Beautiful but potentially dangerous,' Sarah thought, glancing at Jareth. 'Who does that remind me of?'

"I would very much like it if you would dine with me tonight," Jareth said, still looking out over the labyrinth.

She looked up at his profile. He continued to study the view, seemingly unconcerned with her answer, but Sarah glanced down and saw that his hands had tightened on the railing.

"Yes," she said softly. "Thank you for the invitation."

As she spoke, his hands relaxed.

Jareth straightened and turned to her with a smile. "I must leave you now. I have duties to attend."

When he reached the door, she stopped him. "Jareth, can I never go home again? I did before."

He turned back to her. "In that instance, you were the one who had wished someone away. Now, however, you are the one who has been wished away. I am sorry, but you cannot leave." His expression was sympathetic, and he hesitated. "Your friends are still here. I'll have them brought to the castle to visit you in the morning."

Sarah bowed her head and nodded, but her throat was too tight to speak.

When Jareth left, and the reality of her situation finally sank in, Sarah bowed her head and cried. She made her way over to the bed and sank down onto it, sobbing. When she'd finally cried herself out, she lay back onto the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.

As difficult as it would be, she had to accept that could never leave this place. If she didn't, she would drive herself insane.~*~

Sarah had slipped into a fitful sleep that was broken by a servant knocking on the bedroom door. A chubby little goblin female came in and introduced herself as Lydie, Sarah's maid.

"My maid?" Sarah asked, incredulous. "I don't need a maid."

"It's His Majesty's orders, ma'am," the girl said, wringing her hands. "I'm doing what I was told."

As Sarah looked into the goblin's anxious eyes, she remembered that Jareth had said they were similar to children.

"Then obviously I'm mistaken, Lydie," Sarah said gently.

The goblin looked relieved and announced that dinner would be served shortly. She was there to lead Sarah to the dining room and told Sarah that she would return after dinner to draw a bath.

"I don't have anything to sleep in," Sarah said softly. "Do you think you could find something for me to wear?"

Lydie assured Sarah that she would try to find something suitable to use as a nightgown.

Sarah followed the goblin through the hallways until they finally stood in front of the closed dining room door. Lydie left, and Sarah hesitated. Was she supposed to knock? Finally deciding to just go in, she cautiously opened the door.

A huge dining table draped with white linens dominated the room. The two place settings looked a bit forlorn grouped together at the end of the vast length of the table. Jareth was across the room, standing with his back to her, looking out a large window.

Sarah cleared her throat, and he turned to face her, a smile lighting up his face. At the sight, her heart stuttered in her chest. 'He looks happy,' she thought. 'Can he really be that happy just because I'm here?'

Sarah was suddenly and acutely aware of her grubby jeans and plain pullover sweater. Compared to Jareth's lace and leather finery, she felt like an ugly duckling. If she was going to stay here, she needed clothing.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know that dinner was formal, but I don't have anything else to wear," she said.

"You'll need a wardrobe," Jareth agreed. "I'll have one prepared for you." He crossed the room and held her chair. She was to be seated to his immediate right, she saw.

Sarah took her seat and then nervously smoothed her napkin out in her lap. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do," she said quietly.

He sat down and gave her a puzzled look. "About?"

"About anything," she said, horrified that tears had appeared in her eyes. She blinked them back viciously. "Where am I going to live? How am I going to make a living here? How am I supposed to pay for new clothes?"

Jareth looked surprised. "You needn't concern yourself with those things. You will live here in the castle, and whatever you want will be provided for you."

"I'm used to working for a living," Sarah said stubbornly. "I want to pay my own way."

Jareth laughed. "So independent, but it is completely unnecessary."

"I can't just live off of you," she insisted. "That would make me a—" Sarah stopped abruptly, horrified. She'd been about to say 'whore'. What had brought that to mind? She didn't know him well enough to even consider being intimate with him.

"—a leech," she finished quickly.

"And so you wish employment in exchange for your food and clothing?" Jareth mused. "This would please you?"

"It would make me a lot more comfortable with this situation," Sarah said firmly.

Jareth nodded slowly. "Do you know anything of gardening?"

"A little bit," Sarah answered, surprised. "I used to help my dad take care of the lawn when I lived at home, and I've got a window box in my apartment with flowers that I've managed to keep alive. Why? Do you want me to be your gardener?"

He smiled. "Not per se, more of a supervisor. I have a private garden that is tended by the goblins. Unfortunately, they require almost constant direction. I don't have time to instruct them as closely as is needed, and the plants have suffered for it. I would be appreciative if you would take over that role."

"This isn't something you're making up just so I'll have a job, is it?" Sarah asked suspiciously.

Jareth grinned. "After dinner I'll show you the garden, and you may judge for yourself," he answered.~*~

The torches along the garden walkways were lighted with a wave of Jareth's hand. Sarah slowly looked around. It had the potential to be very beautiful, but there were places where weeds had overtaken the grass, and most of the shrubs were badly in need of trimming. Roses had been allowed to run wild instead of being trained to a trellis, and a marble bench by a decorative pond had been completely overrun with creeping ivy.

"I see what you mean," Sarah said, looking around. "But it's really nothing that a little hard work and patience won't fix."

"Then you will accept the task?"

"Yes," she answered absently, her mind already making lists of things to be done.

"Good," Jareth said, smiling. "I shall look forward to seeing your progress. You may start tomorrow, after you visit with your friends. Are there any other areas of the castle that you would like to see?"

"You have a library, don't you?" Sarah asked.

Jareth nodded. "Yes, we'll go there now."~*~

As she entered the library, Sarah looked around in awe at the sheer number of books lining the walls.

"It's apparent that you like to read," she said. She pulled a book at random from a shelf. "The First Thousand Years," she read aloud.

"A beginning history of our world," he said, glancing over her shoulder. "It's quite accurate, if you are interested."

"You've read all of these books?" she asked, curious.

"It helps to pass the time." Jareth shrugged. "You're free to read anything here."

She held up the book in her hand. "May I take this back to my room?"

"Of course. This is your home now; these things are yours as well," he said.

Sarah looked at him sharply. "No, these things are yours. I don't have anything here."

For a moment, his eyes grew bleak.

"I hope you'll come to feel differently in time," he said softly.

Sarah dropped her eyes. She hadn't meant to hurt him. When she looked up again, his implacable mask was in place.

"It's growing late. I'll escort you to your room," he said.

When they arrived back at Sarah's room, Jareth hesitated.

"Would you care to join me for breakfast?" he asked. "Your friends should be arriving at the castle shortly thereafter."

"All right," she agreed.

"Then I bid you a good night," Jareth said. He bowed slightly and waited for Sarah to go into her room before walking to his own chambers.~*~

Once in her room, Sarah found Lydie waiting. As soon as Lydie saw Sarah, the goblin began to pour water into a large bathtub set behind a screen in the corner of the room. When Sarah disrobed and sank into the hot water, Lydie gathered up her clothes.

"I'll take these things to have them washed, and I'll bring 'em back first thing in the morning," the goblin said.

"Wait, Lydie," Sarah said. "I don't have anything else to wear. I still need a nightgown."

"I've laid it out on the bed." Lydie popped her head around the screen and smiled at Sarah. "It's so soft."

Sarah blinked, not sure if the girl was talking about the nightgown or the bed. "Um, I'm sure it will be fine."

"Do you want me to stay and brush your hair?" Lydie asked.

"No, thank you," Sarah smiled. "I prefer to do that myself. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, ma'am," Lydie called out as she left.

When Sarah finished bathing, she wrapped a towel around her body and went to get the nightgown.

"Uh oh," Sarah said as she picked up the garment.

It was obviously one of Jareth's shirts. As soon as Sarah touched the shirt, she knew that Lydie hadn't been referring to the bed. Jareth's shirt was made of the softest fabric that Sarah had ever felt. The temptation to know what it felt like against her skin was overwhelming, and she finally gave in. She loosened the towel, laid it on the bed and pulled the shirt on over her head. The sleeves went past her fingertips, but she could fold those up. The hem fell to mid-thigh, making it fairly modest in that respect. However, it was the neckline that gave her the biggest concern. While the shirt might open to mid-chest on Jareth, it plunged almost to Sarah's navel.

She looked down at herself and shrugged. It wasn't as if anyone could see her, and she had nothing else to wear. Besides, Lydie promised that Sarah would have her own clothes back first thing in the morning.

Sarah took the book that Jareth had loaned her, climbed into bed and settled down to read.~*~

The sound of someone knocking on her bedroom door woke Sarah. For a moment, she was disoriented and couldn't remember where she was, and then it all came flooding back to her. She sat up abruptly, and the book she'd been reading slid to the floor with a thud. Bright sunlight shone into the room from the balcony.

The knock sounded again, and Sarah jumped out of bed. It must be Lydie with Sarah's clothes.

Sarah opened the door to find Jareth standing there. His eyebrows shot up as his eyes moved over her, and the pleasant smile on his face quickly widened into a grin.

Sarah glanced down and gasped. She was revealing a lot of skin. She turned bright red and hurriedly grasped the neckline of the shirt, pulling it closed.

Jareth lifted his hand and suddenly a dark blue silk robe dangled from his gloved fingertips.

"Since you're already wearing my shirt," he said in a clearly amused tone, "perhaps you'd like my dressing gown as well."

"Lydie took my clothes to wash. This is what she left me to sleep in. I didn't have anything else to wear. It was this or a towel." Sarah winced as she heard herself babbling. She snatched the robe from Jareth and struggled to put it on with one hand. She wasn't about to let go of that neckline.

Jareth finally took pity on her, and smothering his grin, he took the robe from her and held it up in front of him so that she could slip her arms through the sleeves. Sarah quickly wrapped the robe around her, tied the belt at her waist and turned back to face him.

"I believe that looks better on you than it does on me," Jareth drawled. "You look quite charming."

"Is there something I can do for you?" Sarah asked, exasperated.

His eyes gleamed, and he gave a low laugh. "Several things do come to mind."

At his words, the blush that had begun to fade from Sarah's cheeks suddenly intensified. But it was the warmth that had quickly spread through other parts of her body that disturbed her most.

"However," Jareth continued with a smile, "at the moment, I will settle for your company at breakfast."

"I can't go like this," Sarah protested, gesturing toward his robe.

Before Jareth could reply, Lydie came running down the hallway.

"Ma'am, ma'am, I've got your clothes," she panted. Lydie skidded to a stop in front of Jareth and Sarah, and then dropped into an awkward curtsy to her king.

Sarah scooped her clothes out of Lydie's grasp even before the goblin maid had even risen from her curtsy.

Jareth smirked at Sarah's obvious haste.

"I shall meet you in the dining room," he said. As he walked away, he called over his shoulder, "Although, it is such a pity that you feel the need to change. Your current ensemble is really quite fetching."

Lydie looked at Sarah and giggled.

"Oh, oh, the king likes you," Lydie teased in a singsong voice.

Sarah watched Jareth's retreating form with a smile hovering on her lips. "Yeah, I think he does."~*~

After breakfast, Jareth led Sarah into the castle courtyard to greet a very surprised and somewhat bewildered Hoggle, Sir Didymus and Ludo. As her friends surrounded her with joyous cries and crushing hugs, Jareth stood apart and watched them before turning to leave them to their visit.

Sarah frowned as she watched Jareth walk away and go back into the castle. After a few minutes, movement at one of the upper castle windows caught her attention, and she glanced up to see Jareth looking down at them.

"I am alone far more often than I would choose."

As her friends pulled her into another round of hugs, Sarah laughed, but her eyes were continually drawn back to a castle window where a king stood alone.~*~

Supervising the goblins was trying, but not impossible. Sarah quickly learned that firm repetition was the key to gaining their attention, and her life settled into a pleasant blur of days spent tending the garden and visiting with her friends, and of evenings spent talking with Jareth.

She found that he had a particularly wicked sense of humor, and his sly remarks and skillful mimicry often caught her off guard before causing her to gasp in surprised laughter. They began trading stories of their worlds, and those tentative exchanges quickly escalated to more personal discussions.

Sarah told him of her hurt over her parent's divorce and her initial childish jealousy of Toby, and then of her disappointment in failing at her bid for an acting career. Jareth, in turn, revealed his restlessness at being obligated to rule over the goblins. While he didn't explain fully, Sarah was able to glean that his kingdom had been thrust upon him as a form of punishment for a youthful romantic indiscretion with the wife of a very powerful Underground noble.

"It is not something of which I am particularly proud," Jareth said, shaking his head. "But the woman was willing."

"Yes," Sarah had murmured, "I can well imagine that she was."

Jareth had looked surprised at her words, and then a speculative look had crossed his face. He obviously hadn't been certain if she'd been flirting with him or not, and at the time, Sarah hadn't been certain either. But that had been weeks ago and in the time since, they'd continued to grow closer.

He wasn't the cruel Goblin King he'd pretended to be for her earlier benefit. Well, she amended, sometimes he was but only when he had to be. He was merciless when defending his kingdom or his subjects, but he had never been anything except gentle with her. Sarah looked forward to their evenings together, spent talking or playing games or, like now, just reading together in the library in companionable silence.

She stole a glance at Jareth sprawled out comfortably in a library chair. She liked seeing him relaxed and at ease. Sometimes it was all she could do not to simply sit and stare at him. He was so beautiful that it was almost unreal, and her fingers tingled with the urge to reach out and touch him.

Sarah nibbled on her bottom lip in thought, staring blinding at the book in her lap. Jareth was flirtatious and charming, sometimes even blatantly suggestive, so why had he never tried to kiss her? He seemed very careful never to even touch her. But sometimes she would look up to find him watching her. It was as if he was waiting for something, but Sarah couldn't figure out what it was.

She glanced back over at Jareth and met his eyes. The clear longing that she saw there left her breathless. She blinked, and the self-assured mask he wore was instantly back in place, but in that unguarded moment, Sarah suddenly understood.

He was waiting for her to decide what she wanted from him.~*~

Later that evening, Sarah sat at her vanity, idly running her brush through her hair. The days in the Underground had grown warmer and tonight the weather was verging on uncomfortably hot. She'd washed her hair and wanted it to dry before she went to bed. Maybe if she went out onto the balcony there would be a breath of air, she thought.

She glanced down at the delicate silk camisole and panties she was wearing and then looked over at the clock. It was very late, and Jareth was surely already asleep. There was only a quarter moon, and Jareth had once assured her that no one could see onto her balcony from the labyrinth.

Sarah leaned out the balcony doorway to peek at Jareth's windows. They were completely dark, so she should be safe enough without her robe. She stepped out onto the balcony and was greeted by a cooler breeze. Sighing contently, she lifted her damp hair high off her neck.

She sat down in one of the small chairs and began brushing her hair, her thoughts turning back to Jareth. Each night he escorted her back to her room and — like a perfect gentleman — politely left her at her bedroom door. And each night the urge to pull him in after her was becoming more difficult to control.

What did she want from him? Obviously much more than friendship. But she knew that wasn't the important question. The important question was how did she feel about him? If she could go home right now... Her breath suddenly caught in her throat as she realized the answer. She wouldn't go. At the mere thought of leaving Jareth, her stomach twisted and she felt sick.

She laughed softly. Well, what should she do now? Wake him up and make an announcement? Bring it up over breakfast? 'Could you pass the butter and oh, by the way, I've fallen in love with you?'

The tiniest of noises from Jareth's balcony caused her heart to skip a beat. She quickly looked over, but his windows were still dark. When the noise didn't occur again, she gave a small shrug and relaxed. It had probably been a bird. She drew the brush through her hair again, noticing that it was almost dry. The breeze increased, and Sarah bent her head forward, allowing her hair to fall freely over one shoulder while she brushed it. As she turned her head, she noticed a new variation in the shadows on Jareth's balcony. A lighter gleam where his chairs were. Almost as if someone with fair hair was sitting there.

Sarah swallowed hard. Her eyes widened as she made the connection. She wasn't the only one enjoying the cool night air. The noise on his balcony, a bird... He'd been out flying and had just returned. Now Jareth was sitting there silently watching her.

While she couldn't see him, she knew his ability to transform into an owl gave him almost perfect night vision, so he could certainly see her. Sarah turned her head away, ostensibly looking over the labyrinth. 'But he doesn't know I've realized he's there,' she thought with a smile. 'Maybe I should give him something to watch.'

She laid her hairbrush aside and tilted her head back. Arching her back, she slowly ran her fingers through her hair, fluffing it out and then shaking it into place with a languid toss of her head.

Rising, she stood at the edge of the balcony and leaned forward, resting her hands on the railing. Softly humming a song, she began to sway back and forth to the melody, adding a bit of extra swing to her hips.

As Sarah finished the song, she slowly went still. Without turning, she called out softly, "Jareth?"

"Yes?" His voice didn't hold the slightest tinge of remorse at being caught watching her.

"Why are you so far away?" she asked. She'd meant to sound confident, but her tone was plaintive, even to her own ears.

The silence stretched out until Sarah began to become uncertain. Had he not heard her? Or had she completely misread the situation? Maybe he didn't want her after all?

"Would you prefer I was closer?" he asked. His voice came from a few feet behind her.

She smiled but didn't turn to face him.

"Yes," she said. "But you're still too far away."

He moved nearer, and she could feel his breath on her cheek even as his voice spoke softly in her ear. "Is this close enough?"

Her nipples tightened and warmth bloomed in her stomach, rapidly spreading lower.

"Not yet," she whispered.

His arms slid around her waist, and she gasped as he pulled her against the length of his body. As he pressed an open-mouthed kiss onto the curve of her neck, her head fell back against his shoulder.

"And now?" he murmured before nipping at her earlobe.

Her breathing was already erratic, but she didn't try to hide it. She wanted him to know exactly how he was affecting her.

"Much better. You know, I figured out something tonight," she said softly.

"Hmm, yes, I could tell. Dancing about in your underwear? Wicked girl, you were doing that deliberately." Amusement colored his voice, and his tongue traced along the edge of her ear.

She shivered. "Not just that I want you, I already knew that," she said. "I realized that I love you."

His arms tightened around her, and then he turned her around to face him.

The absolute joy on his face brought tears to her eyes.

He dropped a light kiss on her lips. "Once again, Sarah, once again I will make this offer." He took a deep breath and said softly, "Just fear me, love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave."

Sarah looked up at him and smiled. "I was too young to understand before, and I'm sorry for that. But I understand now." She slipped her arms around his neck. "I fear the power that you have over my heart, but I trust you not to hurt me. I do love you. You're my king, and as your subject, I will do as you say." She gave a mischievous smile. "Now, I think that makes it your turn."

Jareth laughed. "And what is your first command?"

"Take me to bed," Sarah whispered.~*~

Sunlight streaming in the window finally woke Sarah. She stretched sleepily, and Jareth's arm tightened around her waist. Smiling, she turned over carefully and watched him sleep. One strand of blond hair had drifted over his eyes, and she brushed it back. At her touch, his eyes opened.

"Good morning," she said.

He smiled. "Yes, a very good morning."

"I have an important question to ask you," she said.

"And that is?"

Sarah traced her fingers down his neck, across his chest, moving steadily lower. When her hand found him, his eyes widened, and she grinned.

"How many times do we have to do this before I don't want to do it all the time anymore?"

"I definitely think we should find out," he said solemnly.

"What a wonderful idea," she said, moving her hand slightly and wringing a soft groan from him. "And then you can reorder time so that we can go back to last night and start all over again."

He gave her a devilish grin. "Why, Sarah, how do you know I haven't done so already? I did promise to be your slave, after all."

As she blinked at him in surprise, he pulled her close and rolled her under him.

"Have you?" she demanded.

He kissed her, silencing her for a moment, but she pulled back and looked at him suspiciously. "You didn't answer me," she said.

"Shh," he said, kissing her neck, "I'm busy."

"You're kidding, right?" she persisted. "Right?"

As his mouth moved lower, she decided that they could talk about it later. Besides, even if he wasn't kidding, who wanted to argue with the possibility of an eternity of this?

One year later...

Toby sat in his bedroom, struggling to do his math homework. Who cared how long it would take two trains going 136 and 97 miles per hour to meet if they left New York and Chicago at the same time? You weren't going to be riding both of them at the same time.

"Your sister sends her love," a voice behind him spoke quietly. "She misses you very much."

Toby whirled to find the Goblin King standing behind him. He held a large wicker basket in one hand.

"Is she okay?" Toby asked frantically. "Can I see her?"

"She is quite well," Jareth assured him. "And she has asked me to visit you."

Jareth gestured for Toby to come closer.

Toby walked over, and Jareth pulled back the light blanket covering the basket. Toby gasped in surprise at the infant inside.

"Did you take somebody's baby?" he asked, horrified.

"No," Jareth laughed. "This is your nephew. Sarah wanted you to meet him. She wanted you to know that she has named him, in part, after you. His name is Quinn Tobias."

"Wow," Toby said. He reached into the basket and gently traced a finger over the sleeping child's tiny fist. Toby looked up at Jareth. "Who is... I mean... Is he yours, too?"

"Yes, he is my son. Sarah is my wife now," Jareth said. "I wanted to thank you, Toby. If not for you, I wouldn't have either of them."

Toby's eyes filled with tears, and he blinked them away quickly. "I miss her, too. But she's happy, right? You promised that she would be happy."

"Yes, she is happy," Jareth said. "And I promise that she will remain so."

Toby frowned suddenly with a flash of insight. "I'm not ever going to see any of you again, am I?"

"No," Jareth said gently. "My son and I have no place in this world. Sarah cannot leave, and you cannot go. But she has never forgotten you, and she asks that you do not forget her, either."

Jareth turned his wrist and a crystal appeared. "I've brought you a gift."

Toby looked at it suspiciously. "The last one disintegrated after I made that wish."

Jareth smiled. "This one will not grant a wish, but it will show you something very important."

"What?" Toby took the crystal and look at it curiously. It remained dark. "I don't see anything."

"Nor will you, yet." Jareth answered. "Look again on your 18th birthday, and it will show you the woman you are meant to spend your life with."

"A girl?" Toby said, disgust coloring his voice.

Jareth threw back his head and laughed. "Trust me, Toby, in time they will become quite appealing." He sobered. "Your sister wanted you to have a head start, so to speak. She doesn't want you to be alone as she was for many years. Sarah wanted you to know this woman's face so that when you meet her for the first time, you will recognize her. So that you will not waste time. In its own way, this is a truly extravagant gift."

"If you say so," Toby said doubtfully.

Jareth carefully tucked the blanket back over his sleeping son. "Goodbye, Toby. Be happy in your life."

At that, Jareth and his son simply faded from view.

Toby looked down at the crystal in his hand and shrugged. He carried it up into the attic and found the box of Sarah's things. Carefully, he wrapped the crystal in tissue paper, tucked it into the box and went back downstairs to finish his math homework.

In the attic, the magic within the crystal swirled and shifted, and then settled down again, patiently waiting for the right moment in time.

The End

[watching-pictures-move]

Magic Crystal (Wong, 1986)

[of-fear-and-love]

Cynthia Rothrock fight scene in Magic Crystal (1986)

[the-swift-tricker]

i'll never get over how happy i was to learn that brian froud, the concept artist for labyrinth and the dark crystal and all around king of fairy art, looks like this

[tinyreviews]

1980s Cinema

The 1980s were a dynamic and influential period for cinema, with a rise of blockbuster films, genre films, and movies that reflected the cultural zeitgeist. The decade's films continue to have a lasting impact on popular culture and serve as a nostalgic reminder for many.

Blockbuster Films: The 1980s marked the era of blockbuster films, with high-concept, commercially successful movies dominating the box office. Films like "Star Wars: Episode V - The Empire Strikes Back" (1980), "E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial" (1982), and "Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark" (1981) became cultural phenomena.

Action Films: The 1980s witnessed a surge in action films, often featuring charismatic and iconic action heroes. Movies like "Die Hard" (1988), "Predator" (1987), and "Lethal Weapon" (1987) blended thrilling action sequences with humor and memorable characters.

Teen Films: The 1980s saw the emergence of teen-oriented films that became immensely popular. Films like "The Breakfast Club" (1985), "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" (1986), and "Back to the Future" (1985) captured the spirit and experiences of young people, resonating with audiences.

Science Fiction and Fantasy: The 1980s produced a range of memorable science fiction and fantasy films. The "Star Wars" franchise expanded with "Return of the Jedi" (1983) and "The Empire Strikes Back" (1980). Other notable films include "Blade Runner" (1982), "Ghostbusters" (1984), and "The Princess Bride" (1987).

Comedy Films: The 1980s offered a variety of comedy films, often featuring popular comedic actors. Movies like "Airplane!" (1980), "Caddyshack" (1980), and "Ghostbusters" (1984) entertained audiences with their humor and memorable one-liners.

Fantasy Adventure: The 1980s produced several fantasy adventure films that became cult classics. Films like "The NeverEnding Story" (1984), "Willow" (1988), and "The Dark Crystal" (1982) transported audiences to magical worlds and captivated their imaginations.

Horror Films: The 1980s witnessed the rise of the slasher horror genre, with films like "Halloween" (1978), "Friday the 13th" (1980), and "A Nightmare on Elm Street" (1984) becoming iconic franchises. These films featured memorable villains and became synonymous with the decade's horror culture.

Brat Pack Films: The 1980s also saw the emergence of the "Brat Pack," a group of young actors who often starred together in coming-of-age films. Movies like "St. Elmo's Fire" (1985), "The Outsiders" (1983), and "Pretty in Pink" (1986) captured the experiences and emotions of young adults.

[construingseacats]

Umireread: Legend of the Golden Witch - Chapter 6: Sandy Beach 

Sat, Oct 4 1986 - 3:00PM

The following contains spoilers for the entirety of Umineko. Please do not read if you are yet to finish it.

We finally have our first real entry to the Tips menu in the form of the Epitaph, but it’s just a copy of what it says without any further notes. Going forward I’ll just comment if something is added that I think merits inspection, other than starting each post with “no new tips this time” or “there’s something new but there’s nothing to say about it”.

I mean, I have to make the joke about Maria being the one writing the Tips, right? We get the Epitaph in our “book” and then she pulls it out of hers. Anyway Maria writes all the tips 100% canon confirmed

Battler says he’s hungry and Yasu immediately goes into “I would do anything in the world for you” mode.

Umineko is just full of microcosms of itself, isn’t it? This whole scene of the kids discussing the Epitaph is just one giant metaphor to the narrative structure of the mystery as a whole. The Epitaph tells you about a sweetfish-filled river, so you take it as the truth. You try to figure out where it is, but it’s fruitless, because it doesn’t exist. The same applies to all the testimonies and text that dances around the red truths later - if you take it at face value, you’ll find yourself in a dead end. It’s only when you take a step back and realise what the words actually mean that you arrive at your actual truth.

Absolutely WILD take. You’d really think Maria would be big into the fantasy motifs associated with castles. That being said, this probably does track - Maria has probably been on days out to actual castles and, as a kid, found them relatively mundane and boring. Under the lens of reality, theme parks are indeed the more whimsical of the two, and probably easier for her to lose herself in fantasy-wise.

Hitting the nail on the head there by focusing on the Kanji of the Epitaph being important, eh?

Yeah this was just me at every family meeting when I was her age.

Battler cutting the Gordian Knot here. This is a really interesting line, honestly - it’s a sense of pragmatic bluntness that I don’t recall us getting a lot of later (although that might just be my memory), but moreover, it shows a sense of gunning for answers without caring for the why. It’s definitely a far cry from Erika levels of depravity, but it’s neat to know how much he grows as a person as this story goes on.

I do wonder what Yasu’s thoughts are regarding this discussion. I know she’s rooting for Battler - or anyone, really - to solve the Epitaph, but I’d loved to have seen a beat-by-beat reaction of her internal thoughts to everything going on here.

Maria talks about wanting to believe in Beato and Yasu chimes in immediately. Feed that imagination and you can use her to your advantage later.

Good to know that we’re establishing the servants being willing to lie in service of fantasy this early on.

Battler goes “woah, that’s scary” and then Yasu immediately retreats and goes “nooo it’s not that scary please like me”.

I’m imagining a conversation where Maria asks Rosa for a book for her birthday, a happy Rosa asks her which one she would like, and then Maria goes “The Lemegeton :)”

I dunno man, I used to cast fire strike on scorpions at the Al Kharid mine to train my magic and they didn’t put up much resistance.

I’m imagining an alternate universe where the Rokkenjima Massacre never happens and Maria grows up as one of those girls obsessed with Star Signs and Crystals.

“Even I don’t think of myself as the sort of loser who’d laugh at something like that”. Oh Ryukishi is coming for the throat of anyone who makes fun of other peoples’ interests. I think this is quite a neat comment to drop - like, internally, part of me wants to say that he’s painting with too broad a stroke here, but at the same time I don’t think he’s wrong at all? Like, using the above example of people obsessed with astrological signs, it’s pretty common to see others poking fun at them because obviously it’s not real. But is that a valid reason to disparage them? Aren’t we all retreating into our own personal fantasies of reality, especially when it comes to more existential topics? Umineko, at its core, really is a story of compassion for your fellow man. I think this is quite a direct point for the story to make, but it’s a well warranted one.

Yasu, once again, is writing Battler as the ultimate gentleman dreamboat who would be her perfect partner.

This scene is quite interesting in that it gives you a good insight into the philosophy of the trio here - Battler, results focused, is initially disappointed that the roses will be battered by the storm. Jessica chimes in, saying that they were lucky to have lived and left an impression on them, and George echoes this by saying that the finite nature of their existence is what truly allows you to admire them in their bloom - with Battler coming around to their way of thinking afterwards. I like seeing Battler being so open minded, but I also like thinking of this as a reflection of all of their thoughts about life in general.

Oh that’s a scathing comment from Jessica. Literally one scene ago we had a callout directed towards people for looking down on what brings others joy, and now we have Jessica calling Maria’s obsession “pointless”. That has to be an intentional criticism of her character.

Mother of the year incoming.

The themes of fantasy and reality rise once again. Of course, the rose is gone - presumably it was pruned by Yasu to get Maria into this situation - but none of what the cousins or Rosa is saying here actually helps Maria. You can’t help her with the truth, you can only upset her. So do you force the truth down her throat? Do you make her even more upset, so you can feel vindicated that you’re right? Or do you approach her in a way that might actually calm her down? To be fair, I’m not entirely sure what the right approach would even be in this scenario - I’d presume the best bet is to weave some fantastical tale that the rose ran away somewhere, or that it wasn’t wilting and was actually getting ready to hide before the typhoon hit, so it’s actually safe and sound under the dirt. But anyway, I certainly know what the wrong approach is in this case!

Yasu writes the Ushiromiyas as completely rotten, who cannot be changed and aren’t worth saving. “But Battler, my hero? He’s different. He’s the good one.”

Once again, Umineko is such a good dive into the human condition. I’m almost certain that Rosa and Maria are based on a real case he saw during his time as a social worker. Rosa is a terrible mother, but you can see why she’s ended up like this. Not just because she’s issuing the same treatment Kinzo gave to her generationally, but because she’s a single mother who is not able to cope with Maria’s additional needs and struggles by herself. Her actions aren’t excused - and they certainly aren’t excusable - but you clearly understand why Rosa is like this. I’m so grateful whenever a piece of media is able to navigate a difficult topic like this with an understanding of the humanity behind both parties without just taking the easy route and vilifying one of them.

Wow, George is so great with kids! Anyway, let’s defend the mother who is beating her daughter.

It’s actually really messed up that both George and Jessica are so defensive of Rosa’s actions here. The generational trauma is real - they’ve both absolutely received similar treatment growing up and have become numb to it.

Yeah? You think what Maria wants the most right now is to be left alone? Bet you feel real good about yourselves letting that 9 year old get a beating, huh?

Through the lens of Yasu’s writing, I can’t help but see this as a venting moment - a reflection of the times that she was hurting, that she wanted someone to reach out to her, but it was too proper for them to do so and so a blind eye was turned against her. After all, it’s the Ushiromiya family, their entire tattered history is full of them simply ignoring their problems and waiting for them to go away. No doubt Yasu was frothing at the bit at the prospect of them trying to “wait for the problem to go away” while standing on top of several tons of military grade explosives.

It’s worth mentioning that I’m writing these notes as I go, because occasionally I’ll make a comment and then be pleasantly surprised by seeing a point I make be immediately reinforced by the narrative. Case in point, we have some discussion from Battler about how messed up it is for George and Jessica to act as they do in this scene.

Honestly, I want to revisit a suggestion I made earlier about Maria implanting herself onto the rose - if we read this scene with that assumption, this all hits so, so much harder. The wilted rose, the odd one out, has disappeared - and no-one seems to care. And here we have Rosa basically confirming that’s a one-to-one reflection of Maria’s school life; a wilted rose that people tolerate at best, want to see gone at worst, and the odd one out without any friends regardless. It’s just sad all round.

Also, Fortitude is the perfect pick for this scene - such a great track. Flawlessly captures the emotions at play here.

And we find ourselves in a Kinzo scene to send us out. With no witnesses in the study, this is the fantasy of an empty room. The sound of rain against the window with no-one there to care. A study draped in isolation and silence, all alone. It is left to the reader to decide what is lonelier - this vista of emptiness, or the abused child in the rose garden.

Beatrice.

[disastardly]

WIP Writing Poll

Trying something a little different since I've got a (blissfully) clear weekend ahead of me and I didn't do WIP Wednesday in the usual sense this week:

Rules: Make a 24-hour poll with the names of your wips and then for whichever wins, write one sentence for every vote it gets (but you should also write 1 sentence for every vote each of them gets!)

Not expecting a ton of traction but I figured it's worth trying.

WIP blurbs below the cut!

Emergence:

Wholesale rewrite of Power Rangers Mystic Force. Nick still rolls into town, the core five are still recruited, Udonna still loses her Snow Staff, but all it takes are a few changes to change everything. Madison makes a move. Koragg recognizes his missing son. Everything is the same, and nothing is the same. More romance, more mysticism, more focus on the characters.

Tales of the Outer Planes:

Prequel series to Descent and TFaK. What happened between March and August 1986 that brought Eddie and Steve so close? A few big incidents, and even more smaller moments that build to something new.

A Brother is Born for Adversity:

Immediately after the end of Righteous Gemstones 3x08. Kelvin's on Cloud 9, Keefe's anxious, and they need to have a talk. Missing scene, essentially.

Magical Mysteries Never Give a Single Thing Back:

Summer 1985: Eddie Munson makes a deal with a demon, trading away true love for musical success. One hitch: that demon looks like Steve Harrington, and says he could give Eddie love in exchange for his musical talent instead. Eddie refuses. Part two is still a WIP and tracks the fallout of that deal, for better or worse.

Steddie Witches AU:

Steve Harrington is from a long line of well-respected witches in one of the world's most powerful covens, but he's never quite lived up to the name or the expectations. He assumed he'd live a life of magical grunt work, but he finally gets a mission from the circle to hunt down a hedge witch, someone operating outside the rigid magical structure of covenhood that keeps everyone safe. Steve thinks he's ready, but nothing could prepare him for Eddie Munson, rogue hedge witch.

Til I Lose My Breath:

Ronance oneshot inspired by girl in red's i wanna be your girlfriend. Robin's helping Nancy organize some things while she's home from Emerson, and Nancy's definitely sending signals, right? ...right?

Snowed In:

Oneshot about a young Udonna and Leanbow getting snowed in while away in the mountains. Fluffy, with basically no plot. Inspired by every K-drama ever where the main couple gets snowed in for the night and has to share body warmth, except one of them is an ice witch.

Mama's Biscuits & Gravy:

Kelvin used to make biscuits and gravy with his mama every Saturday morning. It's pretty much the only thing he knows how to actually make. So why can't he get it right for Keefe?

Evergreen:

Kelvin/Keefe (Gembers?) fluff about dyeing Kelvin's fauxhawk.

Beyond the Crystal Cave (There's a Tunnel Made for Lovin'):

Sequel to Descent and TFaK. The Spicy Six go to a local festival, eat crappy food, ride rides, and get stuck on the Tunnel o' Love when it breaks down. They get stuck for a WHILE. Shenanigans reasonably ensue.

No pressure tags (if you wanna do your own or just vote idk I'm winging it): @hairstevington @eriquin @serpentinegraphite @poemsingreenink @grimalkintoes @t0rchlitgarden @horsegirleddiemunson

[storiesbyrhi]

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

Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence/some infrequent gore, swearing, animal death, no beta, death in childbirth (mentioned, not described), abusive parents, suicide, spiders/bugs, grief/mourning; warnings updated each chapter.

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

Chapter Summary: We speak to those beyond. 3668 words.

1986

Time was not linear. Nor was it circular. It was an overlapping collage of everything that had ever happened. A compressed murder board. A grimoire swallowed whole. Eddie remembered it all.

A century of Eptesicus fuscus, a shell of consciousness. Hawkins. A sickness. A witch’s healing hand. Before that, the flatlands. A coven. You. Oh, you, his little witch.

“Those are not your apples.” Cleansing crystals by moonlight. Amabel, little witch. Lonely vampire. Collecting flowers and berries. Green milkweed. Unconditional good. A forest gate. “Bloodline magic, far and wide.” A bet, a kiss, and a name.  “I envy your world of absolutes. And I love you so.” Marguerite du Bruyeres’ letters to Guillaume du Bruyeres. Unmistakably vampire carnage. Blood of my blood.

Eddie let you slip onto the pillow, then escaped out of the trailer and into the early morning. The sun would rise soon but he needed to move. Run. Scream.

The sisters – Sally and Gillian. Penelope, the spellcaster. “By your hand he is taken and I die on this night, or you let us go and free yourself of this burden.” Transformation. Walking through the grass. Black-eyed Susan, tansy, elecampane, yellow carnation, cyclamen. Blood of my blood.

He remembered who he was before you. And before Roanoke. His accent and gait may have changed, but he was the same sad, doomed soul he’d been then. Still a monster.

Eddie sobbed. He went to the forest gate on the outskirts of town and laid in the grass, looking up at the starry sky, letting the shame and horror and regret drown him.

What was he to do? How would he tell you? Should he tell you? Would you be able to see it on his face?

He waited until the very last minutes of night to return to Forest Hills. Eddie moved slowly through the town; slowly, at least, for him. He could picture it all now, how it used to be. The dirt roads. The vacuum of quiet that proceeded the era of constant electrical white noise.

You slept well into the morning, but roused yourself before midday. Eddie was watching Star Wars: Episode IV – A New Hope. He seemed immersed, so you went about making breakfast. Assam tea with cocoa husks. Oatmeal with sultanas and brown sugar.

There was an awkwardness to Eddie when you sat next to him, curling up close enough to touch. Your mind cycled through possibilities with rapid fire speed. The notion it kept circling back to was – did he regret kissing you?

“Chewie reminds me of the creatures that live in the woods. Have you seen them? Over in the north-west?” you asked, trying to break the ice.

Eddie nodded. “They are shy,”

“Yeah. The humans don’t know about them. Well. They do, but most of them think it’s a hoax. They’re considered cryptids… Which is like, an animal or creature that may or may not exist…” You were rambling. “When they see one, they call it Bigfoot… But Chewie definitely looks like one.”

Eddie didn’t answer. You hadn’t appeared to notice the significance of him remembering something, even something innocuous like the existence of things in the woods.

You finished eating, washed your dishes, and returned to the couch. Star Wars ended and you had no real choice but to address the atmosphere.

“Are you okay?” you asked Eddie.

He looked at you, something in his expression you couldn’t quite place. He nodded. “Yes… Perhaps on edge regarding what your Witches will tell,”

“Yeah… Well then, let’s not put it off any longer.”

Directing Eddie to sit across the room, you knelt at your altar and lit two candles. A pale blue candle for truth. A darker indigo candle for intuition and breaking through illusion. With paper in front of you and a pen in hand, you closed your eyes.

The Witches Who Came Before were always with you, so you needn’t call for them. Instead, you spoke to them with clear intention.

“It is not my place to question you. But it is your place to guide me. To offer truth. Long ago, you foretold of us leaving the flatlands. Then, you warned me of returning. What would have happened if I had heeded that warning?”

The temperature of the room dropped and the air grew thick. Eddie felt his skin tingle and prickle, a frisson of fear and excitement running through him.

“I know you see him for what he is. Without him, Vecna would not have been defeated. Can you say without doubt that he would have been without my intervention?”

It was a challenge to them. If you and Eddie hadn’t destroyed Vecna, could your coven have stopped him? Could all the witches in the world have stop him? Maybe, sure. However, somewhere deep down you knew the answer. Vecna did not belong to this plane of existence. He wasn’t even of the world he inhabited. And a witch can only fight within the boundaries of the natural world.

If you had not come to Hawkins, if you had not found the bat and restored Eddie to his vampire form, Vecna would have taken the town, then the world.

The Witches were silent. It told you that you were right.

“You said that not all callings are sanctified, but that the voice calling me was coming into focus for you. Do you know what brought me here?”

The flames flickered and your hand picked up the signal. The words scrawled along the paper faster than you could read.

“Life and Death have no voice… They do not come calling in the night,” The Witches said. “Their siblings are to follow suit, yet they are wayward in their youth,”

“Which of their siblings called to me?” you asked.

“Destiny was formed in shattered ruins.”

The letters were so unfamiliar, you weren’t sure which witch was speaking to you. It didn’t matter. You had an answer. Destiny had broken free of the rules and reached out to you, urging you to come to Hawkins.

“If I was fated to return to Hawkins, then I was fated to find him?”

Y. E. S. was written over and over, the word tracing itself again and again.

“Why me?”

“Like calls to like. Fate to fate. Love to love,” they said. “History will not repeat itself,”

“A history I do not remember.”

For a moment, quiet. “Lore must be rewritten. You must remember.”

You looked over at Eddie, who could not see any of the words on the page. He was watching you intently, something so human behind his eyes.

“How?” you asked The Witches. “How can I remember?”

“By definition. Blood for blood. Magic for magic.”

You didn’t understand but it felt like enough information that you could figure it out. There was one more thing you needed to know. “The coven… Did I betray them or have they betrayed me?”

“Knowledge is… a creator’s prerogative.”

The pen dropped and the flames were snuffed by an unseen power. You breathed out and read the pages again. Eddie came to sit opposite you. He took the paper.

“Destiny is… a sentient thing?” Eddie asked.

“It’s not meant to be. Forces like fate and life and death shouldn’t… proactively… change the course of what happens on Earth. Not for good reason,”

“I assume we will not hear this reason from Destiny,”

“No… But… It’s an answer. I was called here to find you so we could kill Vecna.”

It was a hypothesis you had both considered. It should have felt satisfying to have it confirmed, yet it was a shallow kind of resolution.

“And, it had to be you,” Eddie said. He knew why it had to be you. No other witch would have saved a vampire. It pained him to see you confused and lost.

“When I get my memories back, I’ll know why it had to be me,”

“By definition. Blood for blood. Magic for magic,” Eddie read off the page. You nodded. “By definition, you are a witch, you are magic. Therefore, it is through magic that you will find your memories,” he reasoned.

It clicked into place in your mind. “And by definition, you are a vampire… blood… so… Through blood you’ll get yours back?” you guessed.

When you looked up at Eddie, you expected to see your own excited expression mirrored. Instead, there was restraint. He broke eye contact almost immediately and began to nod, standing up and walking away.

“Yes. Although I don’t-” he began.

“Stop,” you whispered.

You got up and followed him across the room, he took a step to move away from you but you grabbed him by the wrist. Eddie was helpless as you squinted your eyes and studied his face. When you figured it out, a small gasp slipped from your lips and you let go of him.

As you went to speak, your voice cracked and you had to start again. “How long?”

Eddie said your name with too much softness.

“No. No. Don’t… Don’t do that. How long have you remembered? Do you remember everything? When… When did you remember?” You felt like you were going to throw up.

It hurt.

Not the nausea or the sudden headache, but the deceit. You had thought you and Eddie were a united front. A team. But he had lied to you.

“Only last night, but-”

“Last night?! Was that before or after we…” You couldn’t bring yourself to say it. Now that your face was contorted with fear and sadness, Eddie’s mirror yours.

“Please, let me tell you. I’ll tell you everything,” he begged. His hand reached out; he wanted to brush the tears from your cheeks.

You flinched and Eddie moved back in response.

Had you been stupid to trust a vampire? Was everything you felt about Eddie misguided? Were all your bad decisions going to lead to a reckoning, where excommunication was the best outcome you could hope for?

Eddie wanted desperately to spill it all out. To tell you everything that had happened in 1836. To warn you against trusting your coven. To help you find your memories, and maybe Kelsey’s too. But the more he pushed, the more you pulled away. He’d never had faith in anything, but he demanded it of himself in that moment. Have faith in fate. Have faith in his little witch.

Your mind was having trouble holding any one thought. Normally, you’d be cycling through them all, but it felt like your brain was empty. Long hallways leading to unfurnished rooms. Cavernous spaces. Haunted. You were frozen on the spot, watching Eddie watch you. Then, everything came into sharp focus at the sound of a knock on the trailer’s front door.

The tension was popped and you choked back a half-sob. Eddie hid himself in the bedroom, closing the door behind him, as you answered. He climbed onto the bed and curled up, regret washing over him as he closed his eyes and listened.

Sunlight poured in as the door swung open, Robin and Nancy’s shadows casting long across the trailer’s carpet. You frowned, at first, confused by their appearance. The grief was so intense that it was almost an entity standing beside them. You understood then.

“Hey,” Nancy greeted weakly.

“Hi,” you replied.

It felt strange following a normal social script with them. Yet, you all persisted.

“This is Dustin,” she introduced, taking a step to reveal a child standing behind her.

You knew who he was and nodded politely in his direction. He was already crying. Sighing, you looked away from them, out at Forest Hills. Life was returning to it, but you had been too busy with your own shit to notice.

“It might be too early for this,” you told them.

“It’s past midday,” Robin countered.

“No, I mean, too early in the grieving process. It’s only been a couple days,” you explained.

“Are you saying that… He won’t… Answer us… yet? Or that we aren’t ready to talk to him?” Nancy asked. “Because, no offense, but you don’t know us well enough to tell us if we’re ready,”

“We’re ready,” Robin added.

You sucked your bottom lip in, forgetting the split. You winced at the pain, tasted the blood. The blood. Was that how Eddie got his memory back? Had he kissed blood from your mouth and found history in it?

“I didn’t get to say goodbye,” Dustin squeaked. The boy’s face was pure misery. His nose was red from rubbing it with tissues. His eyes were bloodshot. He was clenching his jaw.

Stepping aside, you nodded. “Okay. Come in.”

Eddie stayed where he was, knowing it was not his place to intrude on such a private event.

You cleared the altar in the middle of the lounge room and directed the teens to sit around it. They watched as you gathered items from around the place and mumbled to yourself while scribbling into a notebook.

“Where there is death, there have always been attempts to commune with the dead. It is not a practice that belongs strictly to witches. Since the beginning of time, humans have sought out methods to speak to those they’ve lost. Where connection has been made, it is usually more to do with the dead than the methods of the living, but nonetheless, it has happened.”

Nancy was listening intently, ever the student. Robin and Dustin both looked at each other, sharing inpatient expressions.

“It’s important to understand history. If you want to participate in the craft, you owe it at least that,” you told them. “Our way of bridging us and them is dependent on the dead. How they appear is dictated by them entirely,”

“What does that mean?” Nancy asked.

“It means, I can send them a message and open the doorway, but if and how they walk through it has nothing to do with me. They could send a single message back. Just an echo I hear. Their form may appear, ready to hold conversation. Alternatively, they may close the door and lock it. You need to be prepared for any of these outcomes,”

“He’ll want to talk to us,” Dustin said. “I know he will.”

You hoped he was right.

If the altar was at the center of an invisible pentagram, you placed an object at each point. A small plate of chunks of cedarwood, burning slowly. Black onyx. Sprigs of vervain. A bowl of moon water. Finally, a white candle burning at where the top of the pentagram would be.

You sat at the altar and used a pin to open a tiny wound in your finger. Closing your eyes and letting the blood roll down your hand, you spoke. “I offer my blood, the blood of a born witch, in payment of passage into the ether.” You opened your eyes and looked at the teens. “You can call to him,” you instructed.

They looked between themselves, silently figuring out who would go first. Naturally, Nancy took a deep breath in. Her eyes glazed over with tears. Her voice was small. “Steve? Are you there?”

She looked to you for guidance; you nodded for her to continue.

“Steve… It’s Nancy… Robin and Dustin are here too… We…” She had to stop to steel her nerves. “We miss you. And. Um. We… we wanted…” It was suddenly impossible for her to say the words ‘to say goodbye.’ Nancy started to cry.

“Hey- hey, dingus,” Robin took over. “Are you there? You’re probably busy… hitting on ghost chicks already… But, um, if you could just… just tune in for a minute…”

Everyone’s attention snapped to the bowl of water as it shook and spilled. You felt him first. Warmth. Steve Harrington felt warm.

“He’s here,” you told them. “He’s listening.”

They all focused, trying to sense what you did. Slowly, his outline was becoming visible to you. He was behind his friends, leaning against the trailer’s wall, by the door. Steve’s arms were crossed against his chest and one leg was folded, foot flat against the wall. He appeared casual, already at peace with his death.

“Your friends wanted to say goodbye to you,” you said to him.

“Are you like…” Steve waved his hands in the air. “Like a witch?”

You nodded.

“All this is… Are you a- a good witch?”

“Was that a genuine question or are you quoting The Wizard of Oz?” you asked him.

Robin covered her face with her hands as Dustin rolled his eyes.

“I thought dying, might, you know, level him up?” Dustin whispered through his tears.

“I can hear you,” Steve said.

“Does he know we tried… we…” Nancy cut through the comedy with her grief, getting stuck on her words again.

Steve nodded. He moved through the trailer, his form semi-transparent and snapping with residual energy. He sat next to you, looking over at his friends. 

“He knows you tried to save him. He knows you didn’t want to leave him there,” you told them.

“Tell Dustin that he doesn’t need to feel guilty. I’m glad he wasn’t there,” Steve said.

“It’s good you weren’t there, Dustin. Steve is thankful you were safe and that you didn’t have to see him in the end,”

“And tell him that he’s the coolest kid I ever knew. That I figured that out on the train tracks. He’s cool and he’s so smart. Twice as smart as me. More, probably. He’s gonna grow up and be the kind of man I wish I was.”

You watched Steve as he spoke. The way he looked at Dustin with admiration in his eyes. Like this kid who probably worshipped him was actually the hero of the group.

You relayed Steve’s message word-for-word. Dustin whimpered and let Nancy wrap an arm around him.

“Thanks, man,” Dustin managed to get out. “I love you.”

Steve looked to Robin next. “I don’t know how to explain it to her,” he told you.

“It’s okay. I think she’ll understand,”

“Yeah… That’s it though. She gets me. And I get her. Like… I feel normal around her. I can just be… me. She’s my best friend… I have a shit load of regrets but not knowing Robin sooner is right at the top of that list. Tell her… that she’s so much braver than she thinks she is. And that she’s smart in a way nobody else is… And that she totally deserves to be loved. And not by some girl who keeps it a secret. Nothing like that. She deserves the whole love story movie thing… romantic comedy with the happy ending. Can you tell her that?”

You could and you did.

Robin nodded to herself in a self-soothing action, then pulled her knees up to her chest and started to rock. Steve frowned at her.

“Tell her that she should still go on the trip we were thinking about,”

“He says you should still go on the trip,” you said to her.

Robin barked out a broken laugh. “Sunshine, beers, and babes,” she said.

“Oh! And tell her if someone pauses Fast Times at Ridgemont High at 53 minutes and 5 seconds, she knows what it means.”

Robin laughed again and nodded. “Noted.”

Steve nodded along with her. “Maybe she should take Nancy on the trip. They’d actually make really good friends if they got to know each other,”

“I think they’re doing that,” you told him.

“That’s good…” He looked at Nancy. “I had the chance to tell her everything, near the end. Got some of it… Tell her… Shit. I don’t know how to say it without sounding like I’m blowing smoke up her ass,”

“You’re up Nancy. He needs a second. Says he doesn’t know how to tell you what he needs to without sounding like he’s blowing smoke up your ass.”

Everyone laughed. Except Steve. He held his hands up in question. “What the hell, man? You said you were a good witch!”

You liked Steve.

“Okay… She needs to really believe what I told her. About how she really helped me stop being such an asshole. And that it’s okay how it ended between us. I was stuck in the present but Nancy sees the future. Big plans, you know? She should know that’s a good thing.”

As soon as you started to give Nancy the message, she burst into tears again.

“Tell her that I love that she always trusts her gut. And that she’ll always look so hot with a shotgun… And tell her that I’ll say hi to Barb for her.”

The room fell into silence after the last of Nancy’s goodbye was said. Nobody was ready to move on just yet. After a few minutes of reflection, Steve’s form began to flicker. He knew what it meant. When you sat up straight, the others all looked at you.

“I gotta go,” Steve said.

“Yeah,” you replied softly. “Here. Hold my hand.”

Steve frowned, unsure of what would happen. Still, he thought it best to do what a good witch said. He took your hand and felt a zap of electricity or something magic.

“Any last words?” you asked him.

“Uh, yeah,” he said. The others all gasped. Steve looked to them then back to you. “They can hear me?”

Robin started to sob again. Dustin nodded.

“Oh, shit, okay. Shit… Hi… Shit…”

“It’s okay,” you told him, squeezing his hand.

“Yeah… Uh… Just… It’s okay, you know? It… it had to be this way. There’s already plenty of Steves in the world, you know? But there’s only one Dustin Henderson. One Robin Buckley. One Nancy Wheeler. The world needs you guys. So, it’s okay. I’m okay. I love you.”

The others cried and said goodbye. They held each other and let themselves feel it all.

Steve’s hand slowly faded out of yours, until there was nothing left but his warmth and the memory of him etched into his friends' minds like love letters swiped through wet concrete.

End Note: This chapter was written very much in collab with @dr-aculaaa, my resident Steve expert. Thank you so much! I hope you like how the scene turned out.

Chapter seventeen is a little bit of an interlude, it's an ode to both Steve and to the magic that runs through this story. But also... now she knows Eddie knows... yikes.

Grimoire updated!

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