#rip my blue fishing net

[buckleburyblog]

LOTR Characters as things I did when I was younger, Part 2:

-> Part 1

- Faramir: Going ice skating with a friend who jokingly dragged me into the middle of the rink and tried to make me slip, only to have it backfire when I somehow turned it back on her and made her lose her balance whilst I stayed upright. (Don't know if this fits w/ Faramir but I feel like he's the type of person to have pranks on him somehow accidentally backfire for whoever's trying to prank him).

- Eomer: Befriending one of the largest horse in the stables that I used to go riding at easily despite the fact that the people working there said he hated most people and wouldn’t cooperate when they took him for rides.

- Eowyn: I genuinely forgot how to cook a dish I cooked regularly for like half an hour and had to physically leave the kitchen to do something else to get my brain to reset. (Happened like last year, but it fits with Eowyn's -10/10 cooking skills so I had to use it here).

- Arwen: Whenever I went with my parents to the local RSPB (a wildlife conservation charity) I used to find the bees on the flowers and literally pet them. I also used my coat to straight up carry them by just gently trapping them inside it (I swear no bees were harmed).

- Elrond: Jokingly being known as Dad by my friend group in secondary school. (Years later it is still a running thing with some of them to the point that their friends, who are a bit younger, genuinely only know me/refer to me as Dad).

- Galadriel: I did karate for a while and one of my favourite games that we'd do at the end of the 'term' was when we had to balance on one leg and the last to put theirs down won. The longer it carried on the more rules there were like: not being allowed to wobble, the instructor putting his foot close to our face or making us laugh, and in the finals you had to close your eyes so you couldn't see who was still in. I always won it whenever we played bc I was competitive af (and there were like GROWN ADULTS in this class that I beat as well).

- Gollum: Spent a few hours messing around by a stream with a little fishing net but got distracted at some point whilst in the water and let go of the net without realising. It got taken by the current and I was too small and slow to catch up to it so I lost it. (Cried when I realised I had lost it ;-;)

- Treebeard: Would have a go at some of the boys in my primary school who snapped the small branch off of the tree me and my friends named Steve because "they hurt it" & it meant we couldn't swing on it anymore.

[alvojake]

How about pirate! Jungwon and mermaid! Reader? You can make it dark and stuff. Up to you 😘

「notes」 : bless you and your thinking anony, this is such a *chefs kiss* idea, I actually had a lot of fun writing it!! also, I would like to dedicate this to two of my lovely moots hehe, @yeonzzzn & @wondipity. I hope this feeds into your jungwon brain rot

Midnight Lagoon | Y.JW

「paring」 : pirate!jungwon x mermaid!reader 「word count」 : 1.9k

「synopsis」 : what you and jungwon had was nothing short of unethical, if you were to ask your people, that is. neither of you cared, though, which is how you find yourself waiting for the said man in the very cavern that had started everything, relishing in each other's company.

「genre」 : smut

「warning」 : unprotected sex (just don't), slight manhandling, teasing, cussing, making out, petnames (baby, princess...), praising, rough sex, mentions of marking, creampie, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, lmk if I missed anything!

The cavern was silent, save for the waves splashing against the shore. It had to have been late into the night. The only source of light was the bioluminescent algae that littered the cavern walls and ceiling. The algae illuminated the space in a soft blue, and the water almost glowed along with it. You lay out on the rocks, crimson tail dipping into the water, enjoying the feeling of the waves cascading across your scales.

Despite knowing the time, you knew that he would be here at any moment. You knew that as soon as his crew was all asleep, he would sneak away to come see you. It has become a routine since Jungwon first found you.

It’s a funny story, really. You had gotten caught in one of their nets when they were anchored in this very cavern. The string was far too tight for you to just rip away from, so you were stuck, fearing that your life was going to come to an end. You had heard the stories from your parents and the elders of the shoal. Pirates were not to be messed with; they would kill you on sight and take your scales to pawn off for a pretty penny.

So to say you were surprised when Jungwon found you and just cut you free would be an understatement. His hands were steady but careful as he wedged his blade between your tail and the net, slicing the dreadful contraption off of you. Even his voice was soft as to not alert those that were on the ship with him. His kind eyes and gentle hands intrigued you and you knew it was wrong, hell it was probably one of the worst things you could do in your life. But god, if you didn’t enjoy the thrill of it all. 

After those events, you stayed behind a cluster of rocks, watching and studying what they were doing. Your family had been worried sick about you all night long, but that was the least of your concerns right now. No, you wanted to actually talk to this man, even if it was the dumbest thing you’ve done. Curiosity has gotten the best of you.

So you waited… and waited… and waited. Finally, you saw Jungwon climbing off of the boat.

You tried to sneak up behind him, but for some miraculous reason, he sensed you there. His head turned, and his eyes bore into yours, peeking from the top of the water.

“I didn’t think a pretty thing like you would hang out around here.” His once soft voice now held a more sinister tone, but instead of getting scared… you were intrigued. Something pulling you towards him, like an angler fish going after the little light antenna on their heads.

That desire only grew from that night when he lured you out of the waters, watching as your tail morphed into human legs, leaving your bottom half completely bare to him. The complete ecstasy that his fingertips brought you left you gasping and begging for more. His dick reaching the most inner parts of your body that you hadn’t even known existed. By the time he was done with you, you had become addicted, wanting nothing more than to be in his embrace once more.

Thus began the little rendezvous, meeting in the very place where he first made love to you, much like what was happening now.

When Jungwon made it into the cavern, he wasn’t surprised at all to find you lying halfway in the water, your tail swishing softly under the surface. Your head was tilted back, eyes closed, enjoying the tranquility that this space brought you. He stopped once he was close enough to fully see you. Watching the way your damp hair cascaded down your back, small droplets of water still falling from the ends. His eyes trailed the length of your body, taking in your chest that was hardly covered due to the shell top you were wearing. Jungwon could feel his dick chub up at the sight alone.

Jungwon’s footsteps were careful and quiet, but you could still feel the vibrations under your fingertips. Your head turned slightly to look over at him, and the corner of your eyes crinkled slightly as a smirk spread across your lips.

“It took you long enough,” you teased the male as you pulled yourself further from the sparkling water. Your fingers wrapped around the pendant that lay between your collarbones, whispering a few soft words, allowing your tail to morph into human legs. Jungwon’s eyes stayed glued to your body, taking in the new skin that had just been revealed to him.

“I had to wait for everyone to fall asleep.” His voice was soft, unlike the dark look that glazed over his eyes. You carefully stood to your feet, but seeing as it's been a little bit since the last time you had to use your legs, your knees buckled, and you tumbled forward right into Jungwon's arms. “Even the sight of me has your legs weak, huh? I'm flattered.”

“Oh, hush.” You rolled your eyes before fixing your posture to wrap your arms around his neck, fingers playing with the ends of his hair. His face was merely inches away from yours, eyes boring into your own. He could smell the sea salt on your skin as he leaned closer to you, sealing your lips in a gentle kiss. 

“God, I've missed your lips so much.” He groaned against your lips, “... I missed you.” He sighed before letting his lips trail from yours to your cheek, down your jaw and neck, before finding purchase on one particular spot right below your ear. A soft sigh fell from your lips as you pulled his body flush against yours, leaving little to no room between the two of you. He continued to press open-mouth kisses along your jugular until he was sure there would be marks left behind, not caring for the consequences you might face once you were home.

“Won…” You whine when his hands traveled down to the fat of your ass, squeezing harshly. He licked a long stipe up your neck before roughly kissing you. His lips moved fervently against yours as he swiftly picked you up off of your feet. 

Jungwon wasted no time in laying your body flat on the flat rocks that sat next to the lagoon. His body slotted against yours, allowing you to feel his bulge against your bare pussy. Your small whines and whimpers were swallowed by Jungwon’s mouth as his fingers brushed along the inside of your thigh.

Your body felt like it was on fire under his touch, his fingers leaving tingles in their wake. But it wasn’t enough; no, you wanted more, and you didn’t want to wait. Noticing the impatiens in your eyes, Jungwon chuckled, pressing his thumb firmly against your clit, making your hips buck and a broken cry fall from your lips.

“Do you really want my cock that bad baby? You’re dripping on my fingers.” He teased, his fingertips tracing your slit, collecting your slick.

“Wonnie, please, I don’t wanna wait. Just fuck me, please.” You pleaded in a meek voice, and Jungwon smirked against your skin.

Who was he to deny you what you were asking so nicely for? So he pressed one last kiss against your forehead before pulling back to rid himself of his clothing. Your mouth watered at the sight of his cock springing free from his trousers. Catching your gaze, he put on a bit of a show, pumping his cock a few times, hissing through his teeth at the sensation. Impatience grew in your chest as you watched him pleasure himself. A whine fell from your lips when he denied your motion for him to move towards you. 

Eyes rolling, you moved your hand down to your cunt using your fingers to spread your pussy lips, “Just fuck me already, Won, please.”

He chuckled once more before finally giving in and moving closer to your body, grabbing your plush thigh. Leaning over your body, he captured your lips in another heated kiss as he lined his cock with your entrance. In one swift motion, he buried himself in your warm heat, swallowing all of the moans that slipped past your lips.

“Fuck you’re so fucking tight, baby,” He groaned, biting down on your bottom lip. It had been far too long since he was last able to bury himself in your wet cavern, the crew and missions taking up a majority of his time. So he wasn’t going to hold back; no, he had a lot of lost time to make up for.

He gave you a split second to adjust before his hips were snapping into yours in such a rough manner you were sure there would be bruises. The sounds of your skin hitting his and moans bounced off of the cavern walls. Jungwon couldn’t hold back; his hips were pistoned into your, trying to get as deep as he could, throwing your legs over his shoulders, pushing even deeper. Deep enough to have the head of his cock kissing your cervix. 

Wonton moans fell from your lips as you tried your best to stay up with his pace, but as soon as his tip brushed over that sweet spot deep in your pussy you were putty in his hands. Stars clouded your vision, your orgasm already on the tip of your tongue.

“Fuck- Won, I’m- shit, I’m close.” Tears brimmed in your eyes at the sudden overwhelming pleasure. Jungwon leaned down, kissing over the few tears that had fallen from your eyes, whispering sweet praises against your skin while his hip snapped brutally into yours.

“You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?” He groaned when your cunt squeezed around him, “fuck princess, you keep doing that, and I won’t last.” His hands trailed from your thigh to your hands, intertwining your fingers when your high washed over you. His pace slowed just a little to help you ride out your orgasm, but his movements never stopped.

“Won-” “Just a little longer, baby, I’m almost there.” He groaned before picking up the pace once more, letting go of one of your hands to rub his thumb against your clit, relishing in the feeling of your walls fluttering around him.

Your head fell back at the overstimulation, all words but his name leaving your brain. Jungwon loved when he got you like this, so fucked out that his name was the only thing you could remember. Chuckling, he pressed a kiss against your plush thigh before a choked groan tore through his lips when he felt you cum for a second time. The tightness around his sensitive cock was enough to finally push him over the edge, painting your velvet walls white.

“Shit…” He groaned into your neck as he leaned over you, hips rocking softly against yours. Taking in your scent, memorizing it once more for he wasn’t sure when he would be able to see you again. 

“Won,” you breathed out, running your shaky fingers through his hair. "You’re still hard.”

Jungwon couldn’t help but chuckle before rolling his hips deeply into yours, pushing his cum further into your womb, “You drive me insane, baby, and I want to fill you so full of my cum.”

A whine slipped past your swollen lips as his pace picked up a little, but your grip on his body didn’t let up. No, your lips found his, kissing him deeply, telling him that you would love nothing more.

@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 : @heesitation @riftanswhore @yeonzzznn @yzzyhee @skzenhalove @seuomo @moonchus @enha-stars @ikeuverse @ilovesubbymenn @ro-diaries @yeonjunsfox

[meowmeowmeowmeow4x]

Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun part 6

Pain throbbed from every part of his body. Teal blood leaked from where his scales had been ripped off, and fins torn in two, but the adrenaline was in full swing. Danny forced his eyes open in spiteful glaring. This was a new low even for Skulker.

Danny shifted his body. Thank Jane Austen that Damian hadn’t taken much of the impact, and curse her too for him being right about the dolphins. Danny shoved the kid behind him, even as he clutched his torn up side.

“Phantom, you’re injur-“

“Get behind me.” Danny snapped, putting an inhuman growl into his words. Dami went uncharacteristically quiet at the command.

Skulker loomed overhead, smug bastard. Guy gloats about skinning a fourteen-year-old for sport, fails, then comes back for a ten-year-old instead.

“It is I, Skulker, the greatest hunter in the ocean, and these are hunting dogs.” The dolphins circled around him, even bumping noses with his suit and accepting pats Ugh. As if he couldn’t get any grosser. “And you, Damian Wayne, have a lovely fish tank back at my cabin reserved just for you.”

Danny let magic build up in his arms. All his willpower went into not flinching from the searing pain as stressed muscles took on even more strain. “C-can it Skulker. I thought you were creepy enough with the pelt thing, now you’re outdoing even Vlad, and that’s a fucking achievement. Maybe you should get a cat?”

Skulker slammed his foot on the floor, if there had been a floor. “THE OCEAN’S GREATEST HUNTER DOES NOT NEED A CAT! PERISH!”

Skulker’s suit opened up at the back to reveal blinking torpedo tubes. Danny unleashed his cold magic along the net. The rope flash froze. Pain surged through his tail, but Danny pushed through and launched out with Damian in tow, shattering the ice.

The dolphins squealed again, but with Danny surging out of range, it barely did any damage.

“Damian, take this!” Danny yelled. He unhooked the wrist ray from his utility belt and shoved it into Damian’s hands. “It goes on your wrist. Press the button to arm it. Clench your fist to fire!”

Danny clicked and whistled. The landscape reflected his calls back at him.

His lateral line spiked with energy. Danny swerved to the side just as a torpedo sailed past him. Damian leaned to the side and aimed the wrist way behind them. Watery explosions erupted and sent shockwaves catapulting them further. Holy shit, where did this kid learn to shoot a wrist gun?! Danny’s line alerted him to two bodies overhead. The dolphins were gaining on them quick.

“I’m gonna flip. Hold on tight!” Belly up, Danny fired three quick beams. Two of them missed and hit the surface. One snagged a dolphin right in the tail. It tumbled out of control and crashed into its partner with a distressed click. In his arms, Damian gasped auidibly.

Danny clicked in a high pitch, almost inaudible to humans. He sped along the seafloor south. He kept clicking, and clicking, making sure he was right. A volley of energy beams cascaded down and Danny zigzagged between them. A shot hit its mark. His sail burned as it tore a hole in it. They needed some space fast.

A spear formed in his hand. Danny went belly up again. He took a moment to aim his shot. Skulker fired another torpedo. With an overhead throw, the spear took off and hit the torpedo straight on. A second spear went at blinding speed and puncture Skulker in one of his boosters. A third one impaled him straight on in the leg. Skulker cried out.

Just ahead of them, Danny spotted their salvation. The trench he detected earlier!

With one last look at the hunter, Danny dived into the trench. As much as the guy prided himself a master of the hunt, even the ocean’s pressure would squeeze him like a grape. As the adrenaline faded from his body, and the colour faded from his vision, Danny made for the first cave he saw. With the last of his strength, he entered the cave, before crashing to the floor.

“Damian, need food, to heal..”

“Phantom? Phantom?!” Damian cried out. The older boy’s gills still moved. He could still feel Phantom’s pulse under his wrist.

Damian didn’t even catch himself warbling in terror. Damian tore through Phantom’s pockets. He tossed supplies and tools out until he located the bandages. The bandages went around whatever wounds he could reach, but Phantom was so large he couldn’t even push him to a more even position. It took all Damian’s strength just to lift the older boy enough to bring the bandages around his body.

Damian heaved shallow breaths as he worked. “Phantom, are you awake? Please, listen to me.” But Phantom did not stir.

Damian’s vision went blurry, and his eyes felt slimy and wet and clogged. He wiped the pearlescent tear away, but paused at the teal blue stain on his green-scaled hand. Phantom’s blood. He stared at Phantom’s sail, its spine snapped in two in some places, and torn up like a tattered blanket in others. His breath itched in his throat. Phantom’s gills looked raw, and it was clear they were struggling. Damian’s felt like they were cramping. He didn’t dare touch the sail, or the gills, nor any of his other fins, for he didn’t have the faintest clue what to do with them. His ignorance would only damage them further.

Just as his ignorance had caused this disaster in the first place…

Suddenly, he felt very, very small. Damian’s head flicked between the mouth of the cave, deep enough that it appeared like twilight even though it was mid-afternoon, and to Phantom. Phantom needed stitches, and more bandages, and disinfectant, none of which they had access to. Phantom had packed up almost everything in his home base except the thermos, and somehow he barely had any medical supplies. Frustration welled up in Damian until he wanted to scream.

Damian shot off, but stopped himself inches before the exit. What would he even do? This trench was a wasteland as far as the eye could see. How could one call a hospital in the middle of the Pacific? And even if there was help out there, a primal fear crawled out from the back of Damian’s brain. The thought of leaving the safety of this cave became unnaturally terrifying. Against his wishes, fears of predators lurking in every direction consumed his mindscape, of human fishermen casting nets from above. The darkness of the cave beckoned to him with promises of warm and comfort far away from the dangers of the ocean.

Damian backed away from the mouth. His mouth hung open in horror. Hot tears continued to pour out, despite his attempts to bat them away. His body was weak, his only companion out of commission with no way to save him, and even his very mind was faltering.

And this time he couldn’t even blame it on anyone but himself. He was weak. He let his guard down twice and now he couldn’t even be rational about it. All he could feel was pulsing dread and the tears that just intensified the more he tried to push them back.

Damian laid his head upon Phantom’s tail. He stared blankly through his flesh and counted his bones as he simply let go. Damian cried for the second time in five years, openly and in total remorse. Father would be disappointed. Mother would be disappointed. Pennyworth and Richard would be disappointed.

Damian lost count of how long he spent like this. It could’ve been hours. The tears hardened into shiny beads that piled up on the floor. The pile grew to four inches of height.

The world-ending anguish faded away into a dull ache, a numb sorrow. The faintest motion caught his eye. Damian startled. Blinking the residual tears away, Damian scanned his surroundings, only to find no soul but them.

Another movement. It was Phantom’s hip fins. His translucent skin had showed clearly the fracture bone of the right fin underneath, but Damian could’ve sworn there was one fewer crack than before.

The fin jerked upward. Damian watched in real time as another crack in the bone mended itself before his very eyes. It was mesmerizing.

All around Phantom’s body, the worst of the worst injuries were beginning to heal. By observing from a different angle, Damian could even see wounds sealing underneath the bandages.

However, only a minute passed before the healing slowed down. And then it stalled.

Damian had a solid idea why. Phantom needed energy. They had paused for a brief snack in the morning, and had nothing else the eat up until now. Phantom was starving and accelerated healing was worthless without nutrients to sustain it.

Suddenly, Damian found himself with a new mission. He wiped the last of his tears, sniffed the last of his sniffles, and armed himself. The Anti-Creep Stick and Wrist Ray slotted neatly into his makeshift utility belt, along with a flashlight, and Phantom’s knife. The older siren had vehemently denied Damian a chance at wielding it, deeming the Anti-Creep Stick to be more age-appropriate. Damian would show him now…

However, his new bravado met its match as he paused at the threshold. The closer he got to the outside world, the stronger and stronger that primal fear roared in the deepest part of his brain. Each inch was like sinking through pitch. What would he do if Skulker returned? What would he do if some ancient ocean predator decided to snack on his flesh? Maybe he should just-

No! He could not!

Priming his muscles, Damian shot out of the cave as fast as he could muster, fast enough that he had no time to second-guess his decision. The fear peeked at fever pitch, instinctual warnings build up from eons of siren evolution blaring like the Watchtower in an alien invasion, now ignored. Once he found himself outside the cave, he steeled his resolve, and swam forth into the unknown.

He had to make this up to Phantom, somehow.

[bakuliwrites]

Concerts with Nanami- 18+, Minors DNI!

Relationship: Kento Nanami x Reader

Tags: smut, established relationship, Nanami getting frisky in public, Nanami letting loose

A/N: Just a little drabble for our beloved ex-salaryman ❤️ I live for his emo look from his teenage years and I think he secretly still retains a love for all things punk. And would go feral for some fishnet tights...

Nanami finally giving in and agreeing to go to that punk rock concert you've been begging to go to for months now. Though he's secretly really excited to go (you've seen his high school pictures, this boy was emo as hell). Despite all of his many excuses ("It'll be too loud," he tries, "What if I have to work?"), you know in his heart-of-hearts he's desperate to see this band. He's just a bit shy about it.

Nanami playing it cool when the two of you are trying to pick out what to wear for that night. It's not like he's already got a t-shirt for the band in question, right? Wrong, he's got one stashed in the back of his closet, a secret purchase he'd made that he wouldn't dare let Gojo see, lest the blue-eyed menace tease him like he did back in high school.

Nanami, stoic but secretly giddy when it's the day of. You can see the glimmer of excitement in his eyes when he wakes up that morning, but he pretends it's just another average day.

Nanami, ready to go before you are, flushing bright pink when, just as it's time to leave, you waltz out of your shared bedroom rocking a shirt with a plunging neckline, short skirt, and fish net tights. He's not one to tell you not to go out in an outfit like that, but he wonders if you're not going to attract unwanted attention. But in reality, this outfit is sparking something carnal in him, hungry and desperate.

Nanami finding it difficult to keep his eyes on the road on the way to the venue. His gaze continually sweeps over your form, tracing the way your skirt hugs your hips, the way your tights wrap around your thighs, the swell of your breasts underneath your shirt. The thoughts that are running through his mind are positively sinful and he wants to scold himself for them. He finds himself frustrated, trying to remain poised and put together. But he can see the mischievous glint in your eyes and he knows that you can practically read every thought in his head. You know him too well.

Nanami normally so pulled together and in control of his emotions, finding himself unable to keep his hands off you during the concert. He's barely listening to the music anymore. All he can focus on is how enticing you look.

Nanami flushing a deep red when you catch him staring, guiding his hands to your hips, and then letting them drop even lower. He presses himself against you, his ragged breaths in your ear as his large hands rove over your supple thighs, delighting in the rough way your tights scratch at his palms. The way your soft skin feels against his callouses.

Nanami squeezing handfuls of your ass throughout the set. Sucking in a breath through his teeth when you "accidentally" bump against the growing bulge in his jeans. My God, you'll be the death of him before the night is over. He's sure of it. In the darkness of the auditorium, you let his fingers toy with the hem of your underwear, let him leave hickeys on the tender flesh of your neck.

Nanami hightailing it out of the auditorium with you, still following the rules of the road but trying his damn best to get you home as soon as possible, his mind reeling with desire. It's hard to pay attention to anything other than the way your hand is creeping ever higher on his thigh.

Nanami lifting your into his arms, his kisses sloppy and desperate as he carries you into the bedroom. He broke the Black Flash record and he's probably breaking another: fastest time to get both his and your clothing off and onto the floor. In his uncharacteristic haste, he rips your tights, but still manages to politely ask if you'll keep them on, sans underwear, of course. You oblige, loving every moment of Nanami going absolutely feral for you.

Nanami, pussy drunk and desperate, laying his lips over every inch of your body. His hands exploring every curve, every dip, every plush inch of you. Kneading and massaging your tits, fingers dipping into your heat. Laying you down on your stomach, all so he can see that pretty ass of yours wrapped up in those fishnet tights. His needy moans, the lewd slap of skin-on-skin filling your ears as he thrusts his cock deep inside you, pounding mercilessly. Deeper and deeper still, until you're seeing stars and he's an absolute mess, coming undone behind you.

And when you're both spent, fucked out and weary, Nanami collapsing on the bed beside you, pulling you into his embrace, and holding you close. "I'm not sure what came over me," he breathes, to which you laugh. "I do," you snicker, peeling off your tattered tights and holding them aloft with one finger. He blushes beet red, apologizing profusely for ruining your tights and promising to buy you new ones (and then some). All you can do is giggle and kiss your embarrassed sorcerer over-and-over again, promising you'll wear this outfit (and variations of it) more often, just for him.

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

For the mermaid ask can you do 1+6+8 you write really cool stuff 💕

Hi Ha-Ha Whump! Thanks so much for the kind words! Sure I can write this for you! Thanks for requesting this, here you go! P.S. I know mermay is long over but hey, it's still summer over here! And mermaids are relevant all year long in my opinion! Thanks for your patience while I got around to this!

From this ask game

The waves lapped at the shoreline like a mother pulling a blanket up to her child’s chin. The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, painting the sky with a pink and orange hue. Bits of wood and metal littered the beach, coated in salt and sand.

Caretaker picked their way through the wreckage, looking for any survivors. They had the lighthouse beacon on all night, but some poor ship had managed to get dashed on the rocks all the same. Upon seeing the ripped, black flag with the skull and crossbones amongst the driftwood, Caretaker realized that this might not have been a bad thing.

A splash made Caretaker whip their head around. Something was writhing in the sunken ship’s net. A pirate? A pirate’s prisoner? Regardless, they were a survivor, and Caretaker hoped to keep it that way. They rushed over to the spot, untangling the person trapped inside. They were so entangled that only their upper half was remotely visible.

They looked up at Caretaker with fearful eyes. Their long hair clung to their face and torso, dirtied with sand. Red welts littered their pale body. A pirate’s prisoner then.

“It’s alright,” Caretaker said, “you’re lucky to be alive. I’m going to take care of you, okay?”

The person didn’t speak, just gave a tiny nod. Caretaker started working on their lower half, and gasped when the net fell away to reveal a shimmering fish’s tail.

So more than a pirate’s prisoner- a pirate’s trophy, a pirate’s pet; a captured mer. Now that Caretaker took a closer look, those freckles on the person’s face looked more like little blue scales. Those scars on their neck? Gills. And hidden behind their curtain of hair were webbed ears.

“Are you going to hurt me?” The mer asked as if they knew the answer already.

“Wha- no, of course not,” Caretaker said, eliciting a look of surprise from the mer, “I said I was going to take care of you.”

Now that the creature was free, Caretaker could get a better look at their lower half. Their tail was littered with cuts and was missing scales in various patches. There was no way they’d be able to swim with it. It was decided then.

“My name is Caretaker,” they started slowly, “I’m going to pick you up now if that’s okay.”

“P-please don’t,” the mer said, shrinking back.

“But you’ll die if I leave you out here on your own,” Caretaker reasoned, “I promise I won’t hurt you, I just want to help.”

The mer thought it over for a long moment. They looked up at Caretaker and nodded. Caretaker smiled in a way they hoped was calming. They scooped the mer up in a bridal carry.

“..umpee,” the mer mumbled.

“Hm? What was that?”

“Whumpee,” the mer repeated, a little more audibly, “my name is Whumpee.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Whumpee,” Caretaker said, “I’m gonna get you all fixed up, okay?”

Caretaker began the walk from the beach to their lighthouse near the cliffs. They had no idea how to take care of a mer, but darn it, they were going to try.

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@mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld @surplus-of-sarcasm @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog

@electrons2006

[jappleseedoree]

leehan boynextdoor x reader au + liz roommate + gaeul and sungho relationship

strangers to lovers ✧*。

first au 🐠🩵

hihi! first upload (｡>﹏<｡) honestly I'm not super sure about it but yolo!!

warnings : very very light swearing

genre : fluff

you saw a mysterious boy at the pet store while getting new fish, don’t you want to get to know him better?

wc: 3075

ENJOY 。◕‿◕｡

fish friends ♪～(´ε｀ )

you store blankly at your fish tank. you felt that your fish friends needed a new buddy. “do you guys want a new friend? because i think you need one.” you spoke to your fishes who obviously couldn't answer you back. you decided to go to the new pet store to go check out what fishes they had. you have been wanting to get Sterba’s corydoras for so long. you had three Angelfish and two Apistogramma.

it was 12 and you didn’t have any classes so you got ready to go to the store. you put on a pale blue hoodie and denim jeans that were ripped at the knees. you quickly put on your favourite necklace, a few rings your best friend, who was also your roommate, Liz, got you for your birthday and you messily threw your hair up in a messy bun, secured with a sapphire blue coloured scrunchie. you grabbed your bag from where it hung off a rack and quickly left Liz a text that you were going out to the pet store and left the dorm.

you found out that the aquarium wasn’t far from your college and that you could walk to it, so you did. furthermore, the weather was windy and sunny so it wasn’t that hot. it was a 6 minute walk from your college to the aquarium but you got there faster than you thought you would.

you opened the door and peered in, you couldn’t see none in there but just looked at all the fish they had. you spotted a couple Betta fish, Goldfish and then you saw it, the Corydoras. they were so pretty with their shimmering silver spots that laid upon the black ones. you looked at them in awe, you were crouching down a bit, your eyes glistening and head slightly tilted until your time of daydreaming was interrupted. “are you gonna buy them or what.” a guy coldly asked. you looked up to see a boy with long brown hair with a red, dark blue and cream gingham patterned hoodie tied around his waist, slumping against the wall between the tall racks of fishes. “sooo, are you?” he asked, again. you hadn’t realized that you didn't say anything in response to him, you were busy analyzing his looks. “oh sorry, but yeah.” you managed to stammer. “ok cool, just come to the front when you're done.” you were gonna thank him but he had left before you couldn’t even blink.

you called the boy from the counter and told him you knew huh fishes you wanted. “hey, i know which fish i want” you said which got him immediately off of his phone, and into the back store. he came back with bags of water and a net. he fished out the ones you picked and plopped them into their bags. when you got to the register, he started talking again, “you like corydoras?” he asked while tying the bags. “mhm, do you have any fish?” you only continued the conversation because if not, it would make the whole time he took to tie the bags even more awkward than it would’ve been if he hadn’t started the small talk. “yeah, corydoras are my favourite actually. i have cardinal tetras too.”

”oh, i had cardinal tetras as a kid.”

“hmmm,” the boy purred, “that’s cool. anyway, here are your fish.” you paid, thanked him and left.

you came back home and greeted your fish. “hi my babies! got you your new siblings.” you giggled. you left your fish to acclimate and in the meanwhile, Liz came back. “hey girl! you got your fish?”

”mhm! they’re acclimating right now”

“take good care of ‘em, i’m gonna go take a shower, i’m exhausted.”

you let your new fishy friends into the tank after doing the last few steps. you were happy that they were all getting along. you took a picture of your new addition to your collection and posted it on your story. you were very happy with your newest purchase. the rest of your day was as basic as they usually were. you and Liz met up with Gaeul and ate dinner together at Gaeul’s place and when you guys got back it was already late. you showered, finished some homework and went to sleep.

you and Liz left your dorm together even though you both had different classes. when Liz left you for psychology, you caught up with Rei, she was your buddy for combined sciences. “hey babe, saw you got some new fish? they are so adorbs!” Rei was a sweet girl who had a lot of style, she sounded like a mean girl but she really was the kindest girl you had ever met. “oh yeah, the dude at the store was so cold about it but it's fine, my babies are the cutest.” you both chatted away about clothing brands, jewelry and whatever you both could think about.

you both got into the lecture hall and sat down in your usual spot. you both were always the first in class but today, that changed. you saw the guy that sat in the back rows of the hall, it was the guy from the aquarium. but today, he wore clear framed glasses. he was bus staring a his laptop, probably watching a documentary about fishes when Rei started to talk to you about him. “ooh girl, did you just find your type?” she said in a whispered squeal. “Rei. hes the guy at the aquarium.” the word aquarium made him shoot his head up, away from the screen. “oh sh-” you were cut off when Rei grabbed your wrist. “girl don’t even lie, you think hes cute. don’t you?”

”is it that obvious… hes cute but uh, his personality is NOT it.”

more people started to rush into the hall so you and Rei were forced to shut up about the boy even though you could hear many people talking about him. he probably couldn’t. he was wearing his Marshall headphones and it blocked out most of the sound outside.

“ahem. quiet down everyone.” your professor boomed. “boy in the back row come down and sit closer to the stage please.” the boy from the aquarium realized that the man in the front was talking about him and grabbed his stuff and moved forward. “y/n, please move your bag off of the chair to make more space please.”

“oh, no its okay i can sit here.” he murmured

“don’t act dumb, Leehan. i know you don’t pay attention when you sit there.” Leehan, that’s his name. you dragged your bag onto the ground and he sat beside you. he obviously noticed that you were the girl from the day before and huffed. you took your laptop out and got onto notes, “don’t act as if i forced you into this class, dramatic much.” you typed and nudged Leehan’s side. he took out his laptop too and started quickly typing. “after tgis, we arw NEVER sittnf together agaib.”

“how do you even make four typos in a sentence of eight words…”

”stfu”

you giggled seeing how annoyed Leehan was. for the next hour, you took notes.

“we will be having a test on this on Thursday so please study on this topic.” oh looked at Rei while packing up “god, i’m gonna fail this test…” you whined. “you’re fine oh my gosh, you always score full marks. let's study later.”

you flopped onto your bed when you arrived home. you checked your phone to a few messages from an unknown number.

kim donghyun: “yo you’re y/n roght”

kim donghyun: “rigjt”

kim donghyun: “right”

you couldn’t tell who it was, but if you had to guess it would be Leehan. “mhm wru” you replied

kim donghyun: “so cold… it’s leehan.”

you: “why’s the email linked to your number called kim.donghyun@xxxxx.com?”

kim donghyun: “oh”

kim donghyun: my real name is donghyun but people call me leehan

you: oh okay

Rei came to your dorm because Gaeul and her boyfriend were hanging out. you both studied for 5 hours and Rei ended up just sleeping over. Rei snapped a picture of you in your pajamas and put it on her story.

the day of your test came, you were ready but nervous.

kim donghyun: y/n you aren’t here?

kim donghyun: lol enjoy missing the test

you: first time you haven’t made any typos

kim donghyun: shut up

you: i see u

kim donghyun: stalker??

you: i’m in the hall dumbass.

you finished the test with ease and so did Leehan

kim donghyun: how was it

kim donghyun: hrllo dude

you: how impatient are you

kim donghyun: how was it

you: good

you: easyyyy

kim donghyun: hope you fail.

when you got home you immediately fell asleep.

the next science class you had, you got your results back. you opened the results but covered it with it with your hand. “3, 2, 1” you and Rei said in sync. you took the cover off of the number. as Rei guessed, you got a full score, Rei got a 37/40 which was very good as well. you high fives each other in excitement. “by the way, i heard that there’s a party later today, wanna go? maybe you’ll find a man” she said with a wink. “hmm, sure.”

kim donghyun: what did you get

kim donghyun: yo

kim donghyun: hellooooooo

kim donghyun: planning to go to a party but won’t even respond to me 😐

you: impatient… this is why you don’t have a gf.

you: full marks duhh

you: i’m going to the party btw i don’t usually go but yolo 😇

kim donghyun: don’t you have a crush on me though

you: you’re cold and impatient

you: what do you think

you: wait i’m gonna change your name brb

you changed his contact from “kim donghyun” to “leehan ⏰”

leehan ⏰: what’s my contact

leehan ⏰: lmk

you: it’s “leehan ⏰”

you: what’s mine

leehan ⏰: “y/nie 🤏”

you: 🤢

leehan ⏰: don’t liee i know you like it

leehan ⏰: your blushing rn

you: i’m not ur just delusional

you: gn i’m going to sleep

leehan ⏰: goodnight cutie

you read the last text Leehan has sent and slept thinking about it continuously.

you woke up and got ready for the day. today, you were going out with Gaeul. her boyfriend was coming too and his best friend as well. you guys were going to a mall so you put on your pink fluffy dice Stussy hoodie and cargo pants. you sprayed vanilla body spray, put on a necklace and light pink chunky rings, put on your pink MISBHV purse and fled out the door. Gaeul and you were going together, her boyfriend and his friend were also going there together.

“oh my gosh girl! literally cutest outfit ever.” Gaeul pipped

“thank you so much babe! you’re literally gorgeous.”

you got into Gaeul’s car and she started diving to the mall.

you finally reached after not too long of a drive. “oh! Sungho is also here!” you looked out of the window to see a car parked next to Gaeul’s. you waited for this friend of Sungho’s to come out. “oh. my. god.” you said under your breath. “what’s up?” Gaeul asked in confusion.

“LEEHAN IS SUNGHOS BEST FRIEND?”

“yeah! you know him?”

“i wish i didnt.”

“c’mooonnn, we have to see them sooner or later anyway…”

“oh my god, fine.”

you crawled out of the car and saw Sungho and Leehan waiting for you both to get out of the car. “oh my god.” you could hear the fish boy whisper to Sungho, “hm?” Sungho hummed like Gaeul liked to do, cute, he must’ve picked it up from Gaeul you thought to yourself “isn't that, y/n? she’s so pretty…”

“you like her huh?”

the conversation ended as soon as you both caught up to them. “hi babe!” Gaeul went into Sungho’s arms and hugged him. while they were busy talking to each other, Leehan stepped towards you,

“so we meet again?” he murmured.

“i didn't plan this, dramatic.”

“i didn't say i didn’t want to see you, your outfits cute.”

it was then that you realized you were wearing a matching hoodie with Leehan. you were going to say something about it to him but Gaeul and Sungho were done being lovey. “Gaeul. i’m matching with Leehan. are you serious right now?” you whined in a whispered scream. “you guys look cute AF together. so what's the problem? maybe you should get a bf.” she said it’s a smirk and you softly pushed her shoulder.

“yooo, are y’all dating or what?” Sungho queried. “huh?” you furrowed your brows, “what makes you think that?” you demanded. “i mean, the matching hoodies? similar interests? same classes? both seemingly not interested in dating anyone? what a coincidence” he debated. “when did i say i didn’t like anyone?” Leehan asked Sungho, “i don’t know, you said you were done with your hookups so…” Leehan slapped his hand over Sungho’s mouth and Sungho grabbed his hand off. “ow dude!”

”just shut up.” Leehan cooed, looking down. huh… hookups? you kept thinking to yourself. you kept it to yourself and pretended to not care about it but in the back of your head, you knew you were jealous that Leehan had been meeting up with other girls.

when you got back into your comfy dorm you immediately told Liz about this.

“HOOKUPS? WHAT.”

“he put his hand over Sunghos’s mouth before he could say anything.”

“this bitch is probably a player babe…”

”ughhh and to think i found THE ONE”

after your showered, you jumped into your bed and got onto your phone and obviously Leehan ha sent you texts. before you properly read the messages, you changed his name

dh: y/n

dh: let me explain please..

you: leehan you don't need to

dh: you seemed upset

you: do whatever you want

leehan POV ☆彡

you were 17 and dumb.in high school you started gaining popularity for your looks. many girls started to approach you and you decided to take advantage of your status. every week, you would have 4-5 days where you would bring a girl home, hangout with her and make out with her. when you hit 18, you realized how bad this was and finally stopped your hookups.

you felt so alone without anyone with you after school and needed someone. you hung out with some senior girls without them knowing you were playing with them all, and texted them with flirtatious texts. when Sungho told you how messed up this was, you felt guilty and told them that you didn't want to do this anymore.

y/n POV ☆彡

he went on to explain what Sungho meant by “hookups”. you understood where he was coming from and you felt a bit guilty.

you: i’m sorry leehan..

you: i don’t know why i cared so much

dh: it’s fine

↱ you: i don’t know why i cared so much

dh: jealous? 🫣

you: maybe? 🫠

dh: cute

dh: goodnight, pretty

you: goodnight han 🩵

dh: 💛

before you actually fell asleep, you changed Leehan contacts back.

han 💌: morning y/nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn

han 💌: wgat nickname can i make for ypu?????????

you: morning han

you: hehe whatever you wanttt

han 💌: even princess?

you: if you wanttt 🤭

han 💌: anywayyy what's your dorm number????

han 💌: i wanna just hang out with you

han 💌: i miss you 🤕

you really did want to hang out with Leehan but you couldn’t give in so easily

you: we hung out yesterday??

han 💌: we THIRD WHEELED our best friends yesterday*

han 💌: number?????????????????????????

you: hmm

han 💌: what do you have to think about???? just give it to me ☹️

you: fineeee

you: room 400

han 💌: thanks pretty

han 💌: when can i come over?

you: hmmmm anytime after 5

han 💌: okayyy 😮‍💨

today, Liz wasn’t coming back to the dorm for the whole day so it wouldn’t interfere with whatever Leehan wanted to do. 5:03 was when you heard a ring on your dorms doorbell. you peered into the peephole to see Leehan. you opened the door and welcomed him in. “hi pretty, your dorm is pretty.”

“awh, thank you Han”

“my nickname? cute”

his hair was a bit curled and he wore his glasses. he was wearing a black leather racer jacket, a dark blue shirt underneath it and black jeans. “you look cute with wavy hair!!” you said with a smile that accentuated your cheeks. Leehan pinched your cheek as you smiled. “cutie” he took off his jacket and hung it on your coat hanger. “so, what do you wanna do?” you asked him. “don’t know. i don’t mind anything really” he uttered softly.

you both ended up watching a movie in your room. the movie was 3 hours long and Leehan felt sleepy and rested his head on your shoulder and closed his eyes. he was the one who made the first move so you felt bold. you sifted your hand through his soft hair. he pressed his cheek on your shoulder harder but soon requested more. “y/n, can i rest my head on your lap?”

you were wearing sweatpants even though if you were wearing shorts it wouldn’t have changed anything. “of course”. he slowly laid his head down onto your thighs and closed his eyes. “can you wake me up in half an hour? or whenever you feel uncomfortable, pretty” and he took off his glasses and put them onto you bedside table

“okay babe” you teased.

his eyes opened widely in shock.

he grabbed you by the jaw and brought his face to yours. “say that again for me?” he purred. you obligated, “babe…” you whined. he took the back of your neck and kissed you. you had been waiting for this moment ever since you saw him. you both stayed in this position for as much air you could hold. you pulled away to take a big breath of air and Leehan stopped as well. “you okay?” he asked sweetly. “yeah, i just haven’t kissed anyone before..”

“i’m your first kiss?”

“mhm…”

“i'll be your boyfriend too, then”

“please” you said with a giggle an gave him a peck on his lips

END (*´ω｀*)

thank you soso much for reading!

2 more au’s (nct 🤭) coming in the next couple of months!!

[adelaidedrubman]

god it’s really fucking wednesday

i was tagged by dearest @deputyash to share a wip on this day! sending tags out to @henbased @florbelles @unholymilf @shallow-gravy @v0idbuggy @corvosattano @roofgeese @jackiesarch @confidentandgood @poetikat @derelictheretic @afarcryfrommymain @cassietrn @nightbloodbix @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat @voidika @firstaidspray @megraen @inafieldofdaisies @blissfulalchemist @strangefable @clicheantagonist @nuclearstorms and anyone else who wants to share!

yeah it’s obviously hook, line, and sinker chapter 3. please enjoy jestiny having a very brief flicker of moral clarity and john getting his pretty woman moment. (don’t litter kids. or stalk and harass your exes.)

“I fucking heard that!” she leaned over the side of the boat to screech, crumpling the styrofoam of the bait cup in her fist and attempting to fling the trash across the distance to Skylar and Sherri — torn bits floating down to scatter impotently along the surface of the water instead. 

“Jesus, Jessie, a fish is gonna fucking choke on that,” Skylar cried, pushing herself up from her lounge chair. 

“And maybe I can’t stop you from driving a boat on public waters, but you can’t litter on my damn property,” Sherri agreed, reaching behind her to pull a net from the pouch on the back of her own chair and toss to Skylar. “That shit drifts to shore.”

Jessie crossed her arms over her chest with a huff, rolling eyes dismissively to duck Skylar and Sherri’s judgmental glares with an earnest wave of shame — she didn’t mean to endanger any poor fish, obviously, she was just angry — instead finding John’s gaze, oddly comforted by the quiet, embarrassed fury she saw simmering back at her, as if the bright blue glitter of his eyes was a tempestuous pool to reflect her own angry humiliation, unfiltered and undiluted in their vibrant heat. 

Then something in his stare sharpened, an almost imperceptible narrowing of the pinpoints of his pupils into focus, gaining all the ice-cold clarity of a glacial pond as he darted his eyes back to where Skylar reached forward to dip the mesh of her net into the water to scoop up the ripped up bits of styrofoam. 

“Hi,” John hummed pleasantly as he stepped up to Skylar, placing a hand atop the handle of her net. “John Seed. Do you remember me?” 

“The fuck you —” 

He slid his hand down the pole of the net, pulling it closer until his fist was circled just beneath the base of its bag. “I tried to buy bait from you a few moments ago. You refused to sell to me.” 

“...Yeah?”

“Big mistake,” he barked with a tug of the net to cause Skylar to stumble slightly, barely catching herself to remain upright. “Big. Huge!” He forced a manic laugh, snatching the net from her hands. “Because perhaps had I been occupied with my own fishing, I wouldn’t have time now to ask if you have a proper permit to fish with a net.” 

Sherri stood, moving to stand between John and Skylar, defensively. 

“I do my business selling fishing licenses, dumbass,” Sherri grumbled, pulling two crumpled pieces of paper from her back pocket to flash. “You really think I’d come out here without one?”

“Ah.” John clicked his tongue against his teeth twice, wagging his finger and tapping it against the paper Sherri held out. “But I’d like to see your netting license,” he said in sing-song. “Class A resident fishing licenses only allow fishing with a hook and line. Netting requires its own permit.” 

Sherri and Skylar exchanged confused looks. 

“Ha!” Jestiny let out a single, choppy laugh as she hopped over the side of the boat, splashing mud as she landed. “It does.”

It did, when it came to hoop nets. But of course even if he knew the law he wouldn’t know the difference between —

He waved a hand in front of his face, then rested it atop his chest. “Oh, I’m only joking, of course,” he said with a smile, bowing his head. “Montana Code Title 87, Chapter 6, Part 5 Fishing Offenses includes an exception in paragraph (1)(a)(iv) for landing nets.”

Jestiny felt a giddy heat blossom along her cheeks — he knew the difference between a hoop net and a landing net. He’d actually studied up. 

Skylar placed a hand atop her hip. “We weren’t even fishing with that net,” she said matter-of-factly. “We were just cleaning up the trash your girlfriend threw in the water.”

He cocked an eyebrow, smile widening. “For after the fish has been hooked as specified in subsection (1)(a).”  He nodded down towards their rods. “And your hooks appear to be bare.”

“That’s not what I saw,” Jessie chirped, throwing her arm around John’s waist and pulling him to her. “And I think the word of two officers of the court is gonna outweigh what y’all say.” Jessie leaned forward, snarling. “I think it certainly gives me probable fucking cause to seize all this shit as fuckin’ evidence of a crime, including the fucking bait,” she snapped. “I think it could mean y’all both forfeiting your fucking fishing licenses as penalty, if this shit gets dragged into court.”

“Good fucking God, Jessie,” Sherri huffed, swiping the can of worms from off the ground and shoving it in Jessie’s hands. “Here. Take the damn bait, since it means that fucking much to you. You win. We’re leaving.”

[gojoswhitebabydolllashes]

Goodbye, my beloved bride.

- Rafayel (love and deepspace) x oc? Sorta

Warnings: sad. Sad. Sad mermaid man stuff. Eternal suffering.

-

I'm not supposed to talk about it.

I promised I wouldn't.

So instead I'm sharing it with this piece of paper in my hand.

When Rafayel left, a deep gash tore my heart into shreds. Agony had clawed at my soul like a caged animal pulling on the bars of it enclosure. That's how I felt watching him leave. Because even though I was there to watch it, I couldn't do anything about it. He wouldn't let me. And despite him knowing I didn't want this. He had left without another word.

Goodbye, my beloved bride.

Goodbye. Goodbye Goodbye.

It wasn't ever really going to be a Goodbye. After all An artists love last forever and when they say goodbye it's to say find me in the next painting you see, look for me in the charcoal smeared on your hands. And so I did. I found Rafayel in every masterpiece I saw. A painting of the ocean. A drawing of a delicate sunflower. The color purple.

Rafayel told me once, that I swayed like a sunflower playing saxophone. I never stopped thinking about it. Everytime someone would say I move too much or I dance strangely, I would think about him and his words and remember his voice.

I miss you so much Raffie. I hope wherever you are in the sea is safe and you are safe. I hope your okay and I hope that the seawater feels like home on your skin. I wish for a moment i could know when you look up at the stars, so that we could look at them again for the last time.

When is the last time going to be the last time?

Why couldn't you have taken me with you? Why did you leave me here to suffer an endless reign of terror that exists within a loop of agony. This endless pain is yet to subside and without you here I fear it may never come to a halt. I did not know you asking me to marry you would lead to eternal suffering in lonesome. Do you still have your ring on?

I must know these things.

I must know if you are happy. I must know if you are at peace. I must know if you still think of me.

I must know.

I just want to tell you that it's all worth it. I hope you know just how much the time we had together meant to me. Your face lit up when we met for the first time. At the pond, the small red fish you held in the net brought out a pink in your cheeks, and your hair was sparkling violet in the summer sun. Your smile was like a shot of pure sunlight straight to the heart.

If I had to tell you one thing. I'd say be safe. Just be happy. Be the best version of yourself no matter how you get there. Take every path you desire so you may reach the life you deserve. And if it is a life away from myself than let it be.

I can only sit by the golden sands and sob at the air as I clutch your paint brush. So worn out and so full of memories. All your line strokes and brushes of blues. All the flicks of gold and wisps of green and white. Each painting you created exists in the bristles. Each single strand is a new masterpiece from your heart.

We are still bonded.

'By the seas and sands, let our fates be held in our hands. In the name of the waves and the tides, let our love be forged forever in time'

I repeated it like a prayer. Like a poem they surgically stitched into my brain. I wanted to scream and cry and tear my hair out and slam chairs against tables and punch holes in the walls. I wanted to tear my lungs out and crush them. I wanted to, no, needed to rip my heart from my body so no person may ever witness it again. Until the day Rafayel returned I would throw my heart into the ocean, to let it it sink and die where my love has gone.

So let this be my plea, o great sea, that when the tides come flooding on the shores of Whitesand Bay that they will bring my beloved back to me. And when they retreat, let them take me.

[imprvdente]

@conscriptur . Finnick gets to mentor Fish🐬

The Capitol train was taking her far from home, like a ruthless hand ripping her away from the waves. She found it hard to breathe; a proverbial fish out of water. Out the window, the landscapes were stretched by speed, blurring into nothingness as she stared mindlessly at the haze of green and blue.

She already missed the beach, the sailor's bar, and the smell of iodine at the port. What would the Capitol smell like? Ripping her eyes away from the window, she glanced at Finnick. He was famous in District 4, and she supposed she was lucky to have a popular mentor. Fish Monet was well aware that the Hunger Games were more than a fight to the death. They were a popularity contest, too. And she wanted to win.

She wanted to win more than anything else. It was like her mother had said before the peacekeepers took her to the train station. She had to come home, nothing else mattered.

"Where do we begin?" she finally asked out of the blue. "I need a strategy, right?" Her mind was already racing, her heart thundering in her chest. Oh, how she missed the ocean! She almost wanted to jump out the window, but knew that she'd get shot before she could even reach the shore.

"I can hold my breath for a very long time, I'm good with a trident and a net too. And I can dance. I don't know what's going to be useful out there, I mean, I know I won't dance in the arena, but..." She was rambling. Blush spread on her cheeks, and she looked away again. "...I don't know."

[gaypinebabe]

------ how it started ------

'Well that was nearly a little too easy' Bill thought to himself 'figured a blue siren would be harder to find in the ocean'. Gleeful did give him a very direct discription where to find one of these big shimmering fish and even tho he had no clue why the little brat know where to find one or why he wanted to have a siren so bad, he didn't really care all that much. He did his job and that was all that mattered. It meant peace for him and his crew

Suddenly the net over his head ripped apart and it?... He? fell out of it and needed less time to recover from falling then the crew needed from the suprise. The siren wiggled and crawled over the deck and nearly jumped back into the water but it was no use. A crewmember already grabbed him by the end of his his tail, pulling him back and Bill approached with a rope and started tieing him up. He took a moment to look the siren in the face, grinning over the determination in it. The Sparkling Fish was scared, obviously, but the captain knew if he didn't already tied him up enough he could lose a hand to those teeth or an eye to those claws.

"I'm sorry little fish but catching you means keeping my freedom"

To his surprise the siren answered in voice that could've been fully human of it wasn't for the underlying growling

"What kind of freedom is that? Taking it from others and keeping it for themself... That's not how freedom works"

"In my case it does, trust me"

Fully tied up he picked the siren up and personally carried him to the container they got from Gleeful.

'Maybe Gleeful want one because they're so beautiful' Bill thought and nearly laughed out loud at the thought how much trouble the siren would give him

-

-

-

-

-

------ how it's going ------

It took all strength that Dipper still had left in him to hold on. If this stupid idiot of a Pirat could breath under water or at least didn't nearly drowned he could have easily swim him to the island he could see, but no that would've been to easy. This way he needed to make sure the blondes head wasn't under water, and apparently all that Bill could do now was try to hold on very weakly and... still smile for some reason, but at least he didn't lose his consciousness again.

Dipper screamed against the raging of the storm that was nothing compared to the rage within himself "WHy ARE yoU STILL SMILING'

Bill wispied back, the loudest he could manage

"you couldn't let me die, you..." he took a deep breath and nearly swolled more of the seawater "saved me after all I did"

That answer didn't help even if he could feel something else then the rage and Panik for a second. He put his tail around Bills legs and tried pulling the man even more to the stone and onto himself

'I HAD TO, YOU LET ME GO'

'after I captured you..."

the smile seemed to stretch even wider

"and people call me insane'

----------

Uhhh merry Christmas and happy new year @ryno-qq!! I was your secret Santa and I'm incredibly late xD sorry for that and I hope you have as much fun with your gift as I did!! It took a while for me to choose what to draw and the story behind it so it ended up being this mishmash of a little writing and two drawings ✌️ hope the writing isn't too bad ^^;

[stesierra]

It's 7am and I've had one hour of sleep because my baby complains every time his binkie falls out. And that means it's time to post another first chapter of a different book. As usual, tell me if you want to be added or removed from my writing tag list.

This is NA fantasy about found family and finding your own path. It's sort of a love letter to birds. Ace representation, of course.

Court Phoenix

Chapter One

In the thin twilight before dawn, the poles of my net sprang from the lake shore like dead saplings. The shadows turned my standing net invisible, hiding its intricate weaving and strong threads. If I couldn’t see it, neither could the birds. That was what I was counting on.

My shoulders slumped as I crouched in the brush, and exhaustion tried to drag my eyelids down. The wind grazed my cheeks and nipped at my exposed ears, and for a second the net appeared, rippling like a wave on the lake. I prayed for stillness, and the breeze withered. It was what I’d wanted, but the dead air stifled me as I waited for my prey to wake and wing across the water. The most boring part of fishing for birds was waiting.

A wavering shriek split the night and pierced my ears. It wasn’t human, but I couldn’t deny the anguish in that wail. The hair on the back of my neck rose, and my heart quickened. I craned my head, trying to see the source among the trees.

If not for the broken twigs biting into my knees and the muddy smell of the shore, I would have thought I dreamed. Fire danced in the sky, the sun escaping its path. It darted over the trees and swept over the lake, trailing sparks, and with another tormented scream, it dashed itself against the shore.

I jumped up, crunching fallen branches underfoot. The flames licked the ground, like an ordinary cookfire, but something lay in their midst. A bird, her wings spread and neck twisted, but not the sort of bird I had for dinner. If she had struck my net, she would have ripped it apart even without the flames. It had happened once with a golden eagle of the same size, and I still bore the scar from trying to free it.

The fire blazed brighter, but I crept towards it. At first, I thought the bird was an eagle. Her bone-white beak slashed downward, and her ivory talons clenched into human-sized fists. But her streaming tail better fit a pheasant, and no raptor bore such a curving neck. A band of gold encircled one ankle, like a bracelet.

Her blunt wings beat once as I knelt by the border of the fire. Except for the blue that painted her tail and face, her feathers glowed gold and red, echoing the flames. Her ruby eyes stared up at me. Her beak parted, and another shivering cry cut into my heart. I had never heard anything so sad.

“Are you hurt?” I asked, although I didn’t expect a reply. “How can I help you?”

She keened at me, lying limp and hopeless.

Some mad instinct drove me to lean forward into the flames. I wasn’t worried about the fire — I was fireborn — but that beak could take off my fingers, those claws gouge out my heart. But I gathered the bird onto my lap, ignoring the fact that my trousers and quilted jacket had caught fire.

She opened and closed her beak, turned her head to lie against my leg, and died.

I sighed and stroked her silky back. I was a fisher, and we caught and ate birds to survive, but I had always loved birds of prey. Whenever they hit my nets, I set them free. I supposed this bird was free now, but her loss seemed a tragedy. She was so beautiful.

In my arms, the creature’s feathers blackened and curled. The scent of roasting meat wafted up. And then, before I could decide if it would honor the bird more to eat or bury her, a pillar of flame erupted around me.

It roared like a bull, climbing into the sky and burning my clothes to ash. Smoke choked my nostrils and filled my lungs. The bird crumbled to cinders, leaving me naked and empty-handed. I scrambled to my feet. Around me, the fire was electric, calling to me, welcoming and joyful. The golden band melted in the heat, puddling on the ground.

Mother would be furious about my clothes, but it was too late for them, so I stayed bathed in flame.

It died down too soon, as though giant fingers had pinched out the fire. The wind replaced it, stinging my ashy skin. The only warmth left in the world was the embers beneath my feet.

I stared down at them. I couldn’t see what was left of the golden band anymore, but the coals cradled a golden egg the size of my two fists. I leaned down and brushed its shell with my fingertip. It was hot and smooth, almost oily. I picked it up and cupped it to my modest breasts. And, my skin sooty and bared, I walked home.

#

The sun peeked above the horizon by the time I padded across the boundaries of the village. Behind me, the little forest that curled around our lake shifted and sighed in the wind. The birds had begun to sing.

It was early, and the only people awake were out fishing, like me, so no one watched as I tiptoed through gardens that burst with flowering onions and herbs and sidestepped half-patched boats turned over in the middle of town. I snuck past square houses with thatched roofs and paper windows and walls of lacquered wood. Fish dried from the eaves, and the town cats sat like loafs beneath, hoping for one to surrender to gravity.

My small home was near the smithy at the center of town, the doorstep scattered with feathers of every color. A brace of geese hung over my neighbor’s door — either bragging or an offer to bargain. Probably both. A net wound round poles was propped up outside, wrapped in tight cloth marked with a family signature. I had left mine standing by the lake, and Mother would be furious if she found out. I wouldn’t let her find out.

I shoved my door open with a shoulder and squeezed inside, egg cuddled against my bare stomach. The twilight wasn’t strong enough to light up my paper windows, so I propped the door open. It revealed hand-me-down furniture, pressed on me by relatives when I moved out of Mother’s house. A pallet stuffed with reeds took up the far wall. In the center stood the fire pit, nothing but dead ashes, and before it my scratched little dining table and wobbly stool. If I’d had a husband or wife, like any other young woman, they’d be waiting for me with the cookfire blazing and a savory breakfast scenting the air. But I didn’t have one. My house was cold and smelled of nothing but vinegar.

I hurried inside and laid the egg down on my pillow, in the indent left by my head. Then I cleaned up as best I could with a pitcher of water and some rags. The water turned black by the time I was done, but I no longer looked like my clothes had burned off me. Just in case, I pulled on the gray trousers and tunic I used at the forge. No one would notice a few more soot stains among those already there.

I sniffed myself and then the air. The fire was dead and I was mostly clean, so why did I smell smoke?

My pillow was smoldering. The egg lay among rising curls of gray, looking harmless. I snatched it up and flipped the pillow over to smother the black patch the egg had left.

“You’re trouble,” I told it. “I should put you back in the woods.”

It shone innocently in my hand. Innocent? It had tried to light my house on fire!

I cradled it in my palms, and it radiated heat that made my fingers tingle. I asked myself, “What am I doing? I can’t raise a bird. No one would understand.”

But I had no answers for myself. I burrowed the egg into the ashes of my firepit, mounding them up around it. If it caught alight here, it wouldn’t burn the village down. And then I ran back to the forest to check on my net and whether I had caught anything.

#

I couldn’t deal with birds all day. After I had plucked and gutted my catch — two ducks and three shorebirds — I left it outside Mother’s door and followed the stink of smoke to the smithy.

The old smith was already there, prodding the fire with a long poker. “You’re late,” he told me. “Do you think you’re my apprentice to waste my time?”

I was his apprentice because he’d paid off my mother when I was still a toddler who crawled into the family cookfire. No one had ever asked me if I wanted the job. But I bit back my temper and took a hold of the bellows. I’d learned a long time ago that protesting was a waste of time. Even though I was now twenty, a woman grown, by the rules of my village, this man was my master.

By sundown, soot and sweat soiled my forehead, my black hair and clothes stank of smoke, and my arms ached. My hands hurt from holding a hammer without gloves. My master was of the opinion that since fire couldn’t burn me, I would have greater control with my bare hands. All it did was make my palms smart with each blow.

I trudged back to my house in the twilight, already planning a long nap. But the door stood open, and my mother’s voice issued out, shrill and too loud. My heart dropped down to my toes.

“What is this mess? And where are her spare clothes and shoes? And what is that?”

“I don’t know, Mother,” Eldest Brother said, his voice patient and demure as a man’s should be. “It looks like an egg.”

They’d noticed the addition to my fireplace. Of course they had. I had no privacy at all, even now that I’d moved out. I hurried inside, expecting to see the egg smashed on the floor. But it still sat snug in its ash nest, shining gold like the headwoman’s best jewelry.

My mother spun towards me, hands set on her hips. Her long quilted coat fell to mid-thigh, covering her trousers, and she’d yanked her graying black hair back into a high pony-tail. My oldest brother stood between her and the door, dressed in a similar outfit, and he frowned at my grimy face. They both looked like me: mouths too thin and wide, noses too small and upturned. None of us were beauties, myself especially.

My mother demanded, “Where were you? What is this?”

I waved a hand to my smoky clothes. “Working at the forge. Where I am every day.”

She sniffed, folding her arms. “You should have been home an hour ago, to prepare dinner.”

“Tell that to the smith,” I snapped, shoving past them both to cast my jacket down on my bed.

“Tell him yourself,” Mother said. “You’re a grown woman. Supposedly.”

I gritted my teeth and kicked off my shoes, which sailed across room. “Please leave so I can eat and go to bed.”

Eldest Brother sighed and shook his head. “We’re your guests, Kerra. Did Father teach you to show such poor hospitality?”

Father had the courtesy not to invade my house. But I said, “No. Please, make yourselves at home. I’m happy to stay up another three hours instead of getting the sleep I desperately need.”

“You get plenty of sleep, you lazy girl,” Mother chided.

I clenched my fists, and my sore fingers protested. “Not when I get up before dawn to fish for birds! Birds for you! Which you never thanked me for!”

Eldest Brother glowered at me. “Calm down, Kerra. This is unbecoming.”

I jabbed a finger at the door. “Then leave.”

“I’m not going,” Mother declared, “Until you explain the egg in your fireplace.”

I stepped around them and swiped my hand through the ashes, hiding the egg beneath. “It’s nothing.”

“Don’t lie to your mother,” my mother and brother said at the same time. I wanted to scream.

“Fine,” I said. “The spirit of fire sent it to me. So I’m going to hatch it.”

They both stared at me. Eldest Brother said, “Hatch it? When it would make an omelet enough to feed your entire family?”

Mother sniffed. “What do you mean, the spirit of fire? The spirit of fire has had nothing to do with you since it possessed your father.”

I was born to the fire, as my people said it. It was Father's fault for being a daydreamer, Mother always said. Sometimes, if a man spent too long out on the water or the cold windy plains, or in front of a fireplace, or turning over the garden, and his mind wandered, a spirit might possess him. If he went to his wife, so possessed — well, he might sire a child with some unusual abilities.

Women didn't get possessed. I guessed we were more sensible.

“Give us the egg,” my brother said. “The family’s stomach matters more than your fancies.”

“Go on,” I said unkindly. “Touch it. If it’ll let you pick it up, you can have it.”

He frowned and sank his hand into the pile of ash. And then he yelped and jerked it back out. “It burned me!”

Mother grabbed his arm and glared at me, demanding explanations.

“The spirit of fire sent it,” I repeated. “If you try to make an omelet with it, it’ll probably burn down the village.”

My mother paled, staring down at the fireplace, and her fingers tightened on my brother’s sleeve. “Then you should carry it out and throw it into the lake! Really, Kerra—”

“Goodbye,” I said, herding them outside with sweeps of my hands. “Tell Father I said goodnight.” And as soon as they were beyond the threshold, I slammed the door shut.

Barely enough light illuminated the windows for me to dig out my tinder box and start the fire. I thought about pulling the egg out first, but I had nowhere fire-safe to put it. In the end, I piled dry kindling around it, and let the flames envelop it. It shone from the heart of the fire, neither blackening nor cracking, and I had the strange sense that it was happy.

“Are you going to hatch?” I whispered to it. “And when?” But the little life curled within that shell was sleeping, and I got no answer.

#

The next morning found me out by the lake again. No firebird tumbled from the air this time, but I caught a brace of ducks. This time I kept them for myself. My mother wouldn’t appreciate them anyway.

When I returned home, ducks hung from my belt, pole and wrapped net resting against my shoulder, I paused on the footpath and stared. My paper windows glowed as if I’d left a lantern lit inside, but when I’d left, the room had been black as pitch. What on earth?

I propped my poles and net against the front wall and peeked inside. Light radiated from my fireplace, too golden to be a fire. The egg shone where it curved above the ash, and cracks crazed it, each so bright it burned white. Something within rapped, like the crackle of damp charcoal raked into the forge. And as I gaped at it, the egg rocked impatiently against its ash nest.

I slipped inside and slammed the door behind me. If I was lucky, the villagers would think I’d just left the fire lit. I didn’t want any witnesses for this unusual birth.

As I reached the hearth, the tip of a white beak punctured the shell, and light poured out of the opening. And barely a second passed before a thunderous crack split my ears. I went half-blind as the egg exploded outwards, blasting glowing shell in every direction. The shards powdered like snow before they hit my face, but I still got one in my mouth. It tasted of chalk and ash.

I'd never seen an egg hatch, but I was pretty sure it wasn't supposed to go like that. But when I saw the firebird, sprawled in my fireplace with two enormous feet sticking out from under her, I forgot all my objections.

Ash-white fluff buried her, like she'd ripped out of a down pillow instead of an egg, and fire danced about her and blushed her baby-feathers red and gold. Her half-naked head wobbled on a skinny little neck, blue as the adult's tail. I crouched in front of her and stretched a hand out. Her face was the length of my littlest finger, and her eyes were closed like a newborn kitten's.

“What on earth am I going to name you?” I asked the chick.

The baby bird bumped me gently with her beak and overbalanced. When I righted her, she felt like embers against my palms.

I said, "I think I'll call you Hes."

@anonymousfoz

@moremysteriesthantragedies

@elizababie

@sm-writes-chaos

@bellascarousel

[maggie32432]

Prisoners - Finnick Odair Imagine (Part 3)

Finnick Odair and Sirena Nighthart both won their respective Hunger Games at age 14. Both from District 4. Finnick and Sirena both grow up in the Capitol, though keeping their distance from each other. What happens when both get reaped at the Quarter Quell for the 75th Hunger Games?

Third POV

A few floors above Finnick and Sirena are Peeta and Katniss.

This morning Haymitch Abernathy is taking the time to show Peeta and Katniss all the tributes that they will be facing. Tributes that he is all too familiar with. 

"Cashmere and Gloss. Brother and sister from District 1," he says while showing the pair of siblings on the screen. Both tall and extremely well-built for the Games.  "They won back-to-back Games. Capitol favorites, lots of sponsors, and will indeed be lethal," 

The screen switches to Brutus and Enobaria from District 2.  "What's with her teeth?" Katniss asks, referring to the sharpened teeth on the woman, 

"She had them filed into fangs so she could rip people's throats out," Haymitch says, increasing the nerves of both Peeta and Katniss. 

"District 3. Wiress and Beetee. Not fighters, but indeed brilliantly intelligent," Haymitch says, showing the two older tributes on the screen,  "He won his games by electrocuting six tributes at once," 

They both raise their eyebrows, impressed that anyone without fighting skills was capable of winning the games, 

"District 6. The morphlings. Basically, won their Games by hiding until everyone else was dead," Haymitch explains, "Self-medicating ever since. Which I applaud, but indeed not a threat," He says. 

The screen switches to reveal a blonde man with a white sweater on the screen, a smirk plastered on his face. Beside him is an intense-looking girl with bright blue hair and shocking blue eyes, she doesn't share the same smirk, but instead a serious look and sharp jawline.  "Finnick Odair and Sirena Nighthart, right?" Katniss asks, 

"Yes, both from District 4. Both won their respective back-to-back Games at age 14, being the youngest ever. They both are the Capitol darlings and are deeply loved here. Finnick is known to be extremely charming and smart. He and Sirena are both extremely skilled in combat, particularly in water," 

"What are their weaknesses?"  "None. That I currently know of," he says, making Katniss and Peeta both more nervous. 

Sirena's POV

I stand intensely still as about a dozen designers and make-up artists work on my face, hair, and costume for the tribute parade.  My dress is blue and quite ocean-y, which is always the goal for District 4. 

Lots and lots of sparkles on my nails, lips, and face. I also have this huge and heavy seashell crown on top of my head. 

I groan as my hair is yanked to be put up in a big dramatic braid. Blue and gold makeup is done on my face while I watch in the mirror, they do fish-scale-looking makeup on the sides of my face. My lipstick is also a vibrant blue and purple color. 

As it all comes together I do admit that I kinda look badass, and much cooler than I did the first time around.  I get guided by all sorts of people down to where the chariots are awaiting us.

Just before I enter the area Finnick walks over to me. 

His costume is insanely more simple than mine is. He has no shirt on and has a fishing net type of bottoms on.  I can't help myself but stare just a little bit at his bare chest.

Just a little.

"Hey, Blue," he says with a grin and I raise an eyebrow,  "C'mon if we're gonna be fighting for our lives together I may as well give you a nickname, right?" he asks and I smile just a little bit, 

together

"You look gorgeous, by the way," he grins and I roll my eyes,  "Flattery gets you nowhere, Odair,"  He smirks while taking my hand to walk into the main area. The hand holding is only a strategy at this point to get people to be on our side and adore us.

That's been the goal since we were 14 years old. 

On the way to our chariot, we say hello to dozens of people that we both know including some victors we will have to fight very very soon.

I continue to remind myself to put on a smile, at least for now. I've always been known to be much more soft-spoken than Finnick, so in some ways, I'm relying on him to strengthen allies for both of us. 

I look to my left to see Katniss Everdeen, and I gotta admit, she is pretty damn intimidating. "Should we go introduce ourselves?" Finnick asks me with a grin and I simply nod. 

He keeps holding my hand, which I appreciate.  "Katniss," I say and she turns to both of us walking over to her, 

"Sirena. Finnick." She says and Finnick asks,  "You want a sugar cube?" 

Where the hell did he find that?

"I mean they're supposed to be for the horses, but they got years to eat sugar, whereas you and I...well if we see something sweet, we better grab it," he says in his charismatic voice. 

Is that flirting? 

"No thanks. But I would love to borrow that outfit someday," Katniss says to him, and I smirk as does he.  "Well, you look pretty terrifying in that getup. What happened to the pretty little girl dresses?" he asks cockily, 

"I outgrew them,"  "You certainly did," he says with a grin, 

"Shame about the Quell thing. You could've made out like a bandit in The Capitol. Jewels, money, anything you wanted," He says,  "Well I don't like jewels and I have more money than I need, so... What do you both do with all your wealth, anyway?" she asks, 

"We don't deal in money," I say, speaking for the both of us,  "Then what riches do you have?"  "Secrets," I reply with a smile,  "What about you, Girl on Fire? Got any secrets worth my time?" He asks, stepping close to her, 

"I'm an open book. Everyone seems to know my secrets before I know them myself," She replies 

I like her 

"Unfortunately, I think that's true," he says, and he turns to see Peeta and Cinna walking over to us, 

"I'm sorry you had to cancel your wedding, I know how devastating that must be for you, " Finnick taunts, leading me to smile again.

We all are well aware of the fact that their love story is a complete sham, anyone trying to survive the Games would've done the same thing.

[enbysiriusblack]

top 5 fav things you've written

1. these are just the lyrics, but i wrote them for my brother who makes music but sucks at lyrics (very inspired by nirvana since he's obsessed with them)

fill my brain with silicone, as i swim with the fishes and steal their fins. i want to breathe under- water; stop drowning and rip my soul away. im a blank canvas im a blank canvas im a blank canvas nothing matters im a blank canvas im a blank canvas bite my head off and eat my lungs stella gave her gills away to push through; onto the other side. stella worked hard in the coral department, till she stabbed her boss with a runaway knife, and now she's caught in nets again. im a blank canvas im a blank canvas im a blank canvas nothing matters im a blank canvas im a blank canvas bite my head off and eat my lungs stella is a friend of mine, you know stella is a friend of mine, you know stella is a friend stella is a friend but she stole my skin so i ripped off her gills and now i think she may be dead but hey, it's just a fish im a blank canvas im a blank canvas im a blank canvas nothing matters im a blank canvas im a blank canvas bite my head off and eat my lungs pray for me and maybe soon I'll be a fish, and away from you

2. the devil wears an angel's face (lil snippet as an example)

"People can't be friends with a vampire!" 

A voice came from directly behind him, "Well that's rude. I have many friends." 

Remus swivelled round, turning to face the vampire, 'Sirius'.

They grinned in an obnoxious manner, a humorous glint in their silver grey eyes. They wore a tight, black suit with a silk red shirt. The buttons were barely done up, revealing most of their pale chest. Half of their black hair was piled up into a small bun, revealing an old bite wound on their neck. As they smiled, their sharp teeth visibly popped out. 

And they had just killed someone; judging by the bright red colour decorating their lips. 

"Pleasure to meet you", Sirius said, holding out their hand for Remus to shake. 

Instead of shaking their hand, he grabbed his dagger and swiftly threw it at Sirius. The vampire moved out of the way, the dagger piercing into their upper arm. 

Sirius hissed in pain, "Wow. That was a very welcome greeting." 

James snorted in humour, grinning widely between the two.

Remus reached for his gun next, pointing it right at Sirius who stood still with a cocked eyebrow and a small smirk. He clicked the trigger; about to pull, when James stepped in between them. 

"James", both of them hissed. 

They caught each other's eye and Sirius lifted up their hand in a quick, mocking wave. Remus had a stake in his hand in a second, roughly pushing James out of the way to bodily slam into Sirius and knock them to the floor.

He lifted the stake about to pierce it into Sirius' chest when he felt something wet going up his arm.

Remus looked down, gaping aimlessly between the wet mark left on his arm and a laughing vampire with their tongue still hanging half out. 

"Did you just lick me?" 

3. lil poem (inspired by both anger at my mother and regulus' relationship with walburga)

You wrap around my throat;

The air sucking life away,

Then holding me close

To comfort yourself

As I bleed a little darker

Again and again and again.

An echo of yourself,

I have nothing more to be

Than the perfect

Reflection of you.

To caress my cheek

While my mind turns

Black and blue

I think I was made for you;

An empty shell of flesh and skin

For you to shape and mold

And break as you please.

You fix my cuts and wounds,

Healing me with precision

While the rest of me snaps

And bleeds at every turn

Maybe if you pull a little harder

I'll finally snap a little faster.

4. the survivor/when all is said and done (lil snippet of the survivor as an example)

He was a wolf. Small, warm, and soft. Tame and the nicest person you'd ever meet to those he got to know, but he could be sharp and full of claws and teeth and fury. It was always in defence though- he defended his pack.

So where was his pack? I questioned. My old friends. I didn't run to him and ask. In fact, I didn't say a word to him. And neither he to me. I guess we both knew better.

He, empty beer bottle in hand and trudging down the pavement, turned to me startled, eyes wide and heavy. His pace stopped slightly, and he staggered on his feet.

I, too, from across the road had stopped at the familiar face.

But less than a second passed and off we both were, to new lives without the other. He knew I wanted nothing to do with the past, and allowed me that continued freedom by the absence of talk. I am thankful to him for such.

But I'd be foolish to pretend I didn't lay awake that night, wishing he had ran after to me, clutching my hands and speaking of everything that had passed in each other's absence. Something drastic and horrible had happened, I knew. Of course I knew.

And yet, I, selfish as always, refused the pain knowledge would bring.

5. my fantasy novel (still can't think of a name for it yet) (lil part of it as an example)

Everything felt fresh, new, to Pandora. The entire world glimmering in a new light. And it all centered around one tiny, little revelation.

She wasn't, and never will be, a saviour.

 And the sky rose and fell, and the plants grew and died, and the people went on, moved on. Because she didn't matter. Because she never mattered. And her death was what brought peace and freedom to the kingdom. All she had to do, all along, was kill herself. And she even failed at that for nineteen years.

Nova called her from across the garden, a teapot in hand and a peaceful smile on her face.

And Pandora wanted nothing more than to be the one to have put it there, to have actually made someone happy by her presence. But that wasn't what she was for, was it? The king had lied to her; she was never there to bring happiness, she was, and always has been, a weapon.

And why ever would a weapon stare at the sunset, grow flowers, and cower in a cottage with a fairy made of pure gold and light.

Weapons were meant to be used. And shed blood.

She turned back towards the cottage, ignoring the sunlight burning against her back in fury of what she had to do.

And Nova screamed in delight, thankful Pandora had a reason to live now. The fairy's blood scattered around her own cottage, Pandora finally trekked outside of Nova's tiny plot of land for the first time in her new life.

A vial hung from Pandora's neck, filled with Nova's blood. It was fairy's blood, useful, Pandora knew, but it served a greater purpose. It was romantic, she could almost hear Hephaestus say. And wouldn't that show them.

I kissed someone else, she imagined saying with her sword to Hephaestus' throat, while you stole my destiny. 

[nellfy-in-thestarhut]

My fish tanks have the most eye-catching drama.

I have two tanks and a bowl, so sometimes I just look to see what's going on in the tanks. Not so long ago, I found out that their was a bully in the big tank.

(Just to make it clear, the big tank is the gang, the medium tank is the kingdom, and the bowl is the recovery / isolation tank.)

In the big tank, we had a (passive) betta (big bubbles), two Cory cats (stripped: crook, albino: añgel), two glow in the dark tetras (large purple: wanda [male], small green: cosmo [female]), and a singular minnow (small midnight blue: skippy, we had more but skippy went and massacred them in The name of being stronger so now he is the only little fish among the big guys).

In the medium tank we have another betta (king ambrose of the shelf kindom, who is dearly loved and adored by his followers) who likes to look in on the other tank to see what the gang was up to.

Finally, we have the recovery bowl / solitary confinement, which just has one plant and some gravel.

I was sitting at the big tank with my cousins when I noticed that Añgel was MISSING MOST OF HIS FINS, but somehow, HE COULD STILL SWIM FAST ENOUGH TO AVOID THE NET TO PUT HIM IN THE RECOVERY BOWL. At first, we thought it was crook because it might have been a case of territory, but it was never a problem before, so we scrapped that and kept a close eye just in case.

So for several weeks, I had kept an eye on the big tank looking for the basterd that chomped their fellow gang members' fins off but wasn't catching anyone in the act so everything kinda was swept away because almost every one was fine now.

For a while, Bubbles and his gang were fine, but one fine Saturday morning, we found him belly up, and I had to send him to heaven through the porcelain pipes. We suspect it was murder but no one in that tank could possibly have beaten a betta, and that brought up natural causes, so case closed on that one, but there is still a bully in the tank

(Rip big boss bubbles, you are missed. Swim high tiny boss🕊)

It was a sad send-off, but the gang must go on! Until this morning, when I found skippy beat to hell and back with a chunk of his tail taken a bite out of! I had to take añgel out of the recovery tank and airlift skippy to the tank for either a peaceful send-off or a miracle save. The suspect? WANDA! I did not know that wanda was a male until I fully noticed the dots on his fins, and it made it easier to notice that cosmo was the female! So now I have to worry about wanda acting up and harassing cosmo because I can't switch skippy out just for Wanda to be taken to solitary! The gang is falling apart, and I can't stand to see Bubbles gang break like this.💔

This is not what Bubbles would have wanted.

[ordersreality]

Pfzetser, the sarphaṇ senior of their team, slid just behind Shagra, who trotted just behind Reg. They met the rest of their team at the Blue Gate, Saltre, Dre, the other sarphaṇi, and Micah, a human who’d come to town about a year ago. They’d come to solve the puzzle of a breach in the seawall keeping the Blue Agora dry.

Shagra studied the space, one of the few that purchased as much space in the sun as it did below. Most markets in Driegskald were wholly in the sun or the rock. This one sat just shy of the north wing of the docks. Yeah, the one they can’t keep still. Half the market where textiles from ports south were sold had cleared out with the first signs of disaster, with more water coming through the wall than the fountain. The paint on the walls looked like they had been redone, recently. Maybe to attract new customers and old, he thought.

A familiar voice brought his awareness to a tent of scruffy soldiers being dressed by a senior, marked by a bit of silver on her epaulets. Her focus seemed aimed at one private who seemed drunk already.

Mike.

The celtel tried to drive the man from his mind, when something tickled his shimmer. He looked around and noticed something on the ceiling he could barely see. He rested a hand on Dre’s shoulder and directed her attention.

Reg said it first, “Tregs! Yah, you know that can’t be good.”

Micah tried to see the thing. Clear enough to see through and hardly any shine most would have missed them in the dark, wet cavern.

“Nay, don’t worry any, Lad. Best get some screamers here, at the cavities and small spaces. Take a month to train ‘em proper, but that is sure to keep them pests out, you see. Rats and others, too.”

“I still see nothing.”

“Yah, you know you might want eyes for the dark, Lad. Then you see things you don’t wanna see.”

By that time the soldiers stood studying the critters as best they could, asking questions and seeking permissions.

Except of course, Mike.

“Tregs?”

“Yah, you know Dain call ‘em troghelites. Bad for business and our health, don’t you know. Best leave ’em to professionals.”

“So, not you, Heiss1.”

Reg growled, “Mind your tongue, Dhrittstøvel2, or lose it.”

Mike’s sloppy smile nearly ripped his face in half. “Your queen failed to tell you I’m the king’s man, did he?” He swept his tent with his eyes, “Guess we teach you the hard way. What do you say, boys?”

Um, were we writing this for theater we might ask for a chorus of crickets to cue in, here. Well, we will just have to do with the trickle of water and a fleeing scurry.

Instead his sergeant scowled, “I suppose you don’t want to get paid this month. Go back to quarters and sober up. Or be ready for the pillory.”

That stopped him. “When I was reeve, here, I did the pillor. Who do you think you are?”

“A clear embarrassment to the crown, Dhrittstøvel,” Shagra said. He added under his breath, “Whatever that means.”

He turned to Reg, “We have a job to do here. Leave them and what’s the worst that can happen?”

“Death. Yah, you know to the children in your crib, pets, even your hand or foot, anything. Sometimes your tools, they go after. They eat anything as big as them and too stupid to run.”

“Or blind to them,” he said gesturing to Micah. “Do we burn them out?”

“Nay! Never that, my Ken. Don’t you know that will burn you out, too!?”

“We can’t wait a month. This place might be suited to sarphaṇi by then,” they watched the three of them rock their heads with what Shagra learned was a polite but rude smile, “but not the rest of us.”

“Nay, Ken, Nay. Don’t you see them walls are breaking down? Only fish and scurries will live here then.”

“So, sticks, nets?”

While Reg is saying, “Armed against their mouth? They’ll have your hand, your head.”

Mike grabbed a baton that once held up an awning. “Get this done, like men.”

Several things happened at once.

Shagra offered his assessment of that phrase, “So, not you, Khuktryne3?”

While Reg offered his, “Are you thinking with the wrong head, Dain!?”

While the sergeant yelled at him, “Get to quarters, now!”

And Mike drove forward, jabbing and piercing the critter’s body with the baton’s blunt tip.

The thing exploded. Fluids splashed everywhere, turning green as it flew and slammed against bodies and stone. Mike was drenched, Micah and the sergeant, too.

“The water, get into the water,” Reg ordered, “wash that off before it blows.”

Shagra offered a courtesy to ensure the boy keeps his thoughts to himself, then picked him up and took him the til and a half there. The sarphaṇi, ever paying attention, found buckets and old canvas and began swabbing everything.

Meanwhile, the sergeant, nearly ready to blow herself, was ordering Mike to the brig. Mike pulled his knife and tried to drive it into the hand of the tent mate trying to get him out of trouble. That mate’s training kicked in and before she thought about it, had that knife free and Mike’s hand pined and broken. Shagra watched the knife fly up, spin and pirouette, and drop to the stony floor, striking a spark. The flames spread quickly, pushing people to the ground. Walls and canvas burned, batons and dowels, any wicker work left to their fates, anything drenched in greening treg slime melted or vaporized. Well, Shagra, deploying an unexpected burst of speed, wrapped the sergeant in a canvas and dunked her in the pool. Might take a month to heal, and orcs would think them scars glorious.

But she could stand. She could walk. She could draw her falchion and drive it through Mike’s chest.

“Was that to put him out of his misery? Or ours?” Shagra said.

“Works either way.”

· • ° • ·

1Thief, conman

2shit boot

3dick face

[munsons-maiden]

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝𝐬 𝐀𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟔

▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏   ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐   ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑   ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒   ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓

So, this turned into a fix-it fic. But I promise I’ll fix it. I hope reading this story can bring you as much comfort as I found while writing it. This chapter might be the most suspenseful one I’ve ever written, and it contains one of the sweetest, most romantic scenes I’ve ever written. - Love, Kiki 🖤  

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 |  Eddie Munson x female reader

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 |  THEN. You’re the only survivor among the Mind Flayer’s victims, thanks  to your friends - but after the Battle of Starcourt, you find yourself  adrift in a sea of nightmares. Until an encounter in the woods with  Eddie The Freak Munson offers an unexpected life line and turns your  world upside down. NOW. Four months have passed since the winter  night you walked out of Eddie’s trailer and his life for good. But when  the mysterious headaches and nightmares return full-force and something  wicked stirs in sleepy Hawkins, starting a witch hunt against Eddie, you  realize that there are two things in this world that might be more  persistent than you’d thought: Evil…and love. The story is told  in two timelines: the past (after the Battle of Starcourt) and the present (during the events of season 4).

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 | angst with a happy ending, fluff, smut

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (in the later chapters, so you need to be 18+ to read this story!),  angst with a happy ending, attempted assault, bullying, canon-typical violence  

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 10 k (yes I know I said this one’s going to be shorter but...I got carried away)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | mentions of attempted assault, Jason Carver, canon-typical gore & violence, blood, bullying, past trauma, murder (Chrissy & Fred), allusions to smut

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 | There will be a song in this chapter, so if you want to listen to it while reading, the starting point is indicated with a little star*. The song is I Remember You by Skid Row - I know it was released in ‘89 but it’s always been one of my favorites and it fit the scene so well, so...let’s all pretend it was already released in ‘85.

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.  

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 & 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝, 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ♡

▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏   ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐   ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑   ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒   ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓

[Tuesday, July 2nd, 1985. BEFORE STARCOURT.]

At first, there was only darkness.

An ocean of it.

You were adrift, the waves of darkness carrying you, making you float –

But no. This was no wave.

Your eyes fluttered open when you were placed on something hard and cold, and beneath the blur in your vision, your eyes met a pair of blue ones, hard and cold as steel.

“Stay very still,” a hollow voice whispered. And you remembered. Billy, calling you to the supply room of the community pool at the end of your shift to help him carry some cleaning supplies. The hit to the back of your head, the darkness closing in on you as a pair of arms caught your fall.

The second voice, a female one. Hurry. We don’t want to let him wait.

“It’ll be over soon,” Billy Hargrove whispered, his breath stirring your hair.

The world was spinning like a carousel, round and round and round as you tried to move, tried to fight against whatever it was he’d tied around your wrists, your ankles, writhing on the cold concrete beneath you like a fish caught in a net.

A second pair of eyes came into focus, hazel ones.

Heather.

Her gaze was as hollow and flat as Billy’s as she ripped the tape from your lips.

And too late, far too late, you realized where you’d seen this hollowness, this burning abyss of Evil in their gazes, before.

One year ago, in the hazel eyes of a little boy fighting against the demon who’d nestled in his mind, fingers tapping away instructions in morse code to close the gate and end it.

Something stirred in the shadows.

Something wicked.

Something…huge.

And the scream stuck at the back of your throat never ripped into the stale summer-night air before something pressed over your mouth, freezing darkness forcing its way down your throat, into your body, your mind, talons of black smoke hacking away at your mind, deeper and deeper and deeper as you tried to keep it out, to fight it, your mind scrambling and writhing like a field mouse in the claws of a bird of prey –

And the world faded to black once more as a voice made of a chorus of whispers echoed through your mind.

You belong to us now.

 [Sunday, March 24th, 1986. NOW.]

With the message of Jason and his friends having started hunting for Eddie, you’d refused to leave Eddie alone in the boathouse, but after everything that had happened with poor Max yesterday afternoon, he’d insisted on you joining your friends. And thus, you’d spent the night on the ratty old couch in the Wheeler’s basement, the RT unit cradled to your side in case Eddie needed to call for help.

The few hours of sleep you’d managed to get had been filled with nightmares. Of Jason and his friends finding Eddie. Blood pooling over the rotten floorboards of the boathouse. Fire consuming the tiny old building, the woods, everything, Hawkins and everything you loved devoured by flames.

You’d made Eddie swear not to tell any of the others about what you’d realized, the knowledge that you’d been Vecna’s first victim. Right now, Max needed all of you – and however you’d unconsciously evaded Vecna’s curse, whether it had been Eddie’s mixtape which you still listened to every night or something else – the only thing that counted was that Eddie had found the key to break, or at least pause, the curse.

And while under Vecna’s horrid spell, Max had invaded the monster’s own mind. You’d spent the day planning the further procedure, taking turns in trying to reach the Byers and Mike in California – to no avail. Nancy didn’t let on, but you could tell her already frayed nerves regarding Jonathan and his insistence to spend the spring break in Cali had started to grow into something akin to anger.

All the while Steve hadn’t stopped throwing her glances, which only seemed to evade Nancy’s notice. Even Dustin had started rolling his eyes.

It was late afternoon now when Nancy dropped you and Robin off at the corner of your street.

The police had announced a townhall meeting regarding the murders of Chrissy and Fred, and it made sense for at least one of you to attend to see how far the cops had come on their hunt for Eddie.

You’d volunteered to attend, and Robin had joined you.

The rest of your friends – Steve, Nancy, Lucas, Max and Dustin – would go to Creel House. What for, neither of you knew. It might have been a shot in the dark – but a shot in the dark, as Robin had already stated, was better than not shooting at all considering the stakes.

It had been three days since Chrissy had found her gruesome death, since Eddie had been forced into hiding; two days since Fred Benson’s mutilated, broken body had been found in the middle of the road through the woods to Forest Hills – and one death since Max had barely evaded the same cruel fate. She wouldn’t have, without Eddie’s wit and Lucas’ sharp memory which, you were certain, was rooted in the love he still kept harboring for Max.

“Hey,” Steve said softly as you and Robin climbed out of the Wheeler’s car, “Be careful, okay?”

“You too,” you said darkly. “If anything happens…”

Robin held up the RT unit the two of you would be borrowing from Max for the time being. “We’ll be in contact. Good luck with Vecna.”

When Nancy sped off and the two of you began to walk the remaining steps towards your home, the golden afternoon light of another beautiful spring day casting shadows across the asphalt as the perfume of peonies and roses filled the warm air, Robin finally broke the silence.

“What happened between you and Eddie?”

Her voice was soft, curiosity glittering in her blue eyes as she threw you a sideways glance.

You’d been anticipating this question ever since you’d found Eddie at Reefer Rick’s.

And still, you weren’t ready to answer it. You’d probably never be.

“I mean, yeah, he didn’t cop out when Jason started spreading lies about the two of you,” Robin added when you didn’t reply right away, “He stood up to Jason. Which was, like, super bitchin’. But you can’t tell me that’s all there was to it. I see the way you look at him when you think nobody’s watching. And I see the way he looks at you.”

“He does?”

“Like a puppy who’s been scolded, kicked, and locked outside in the rain. Either that, or it’s just those huge dull doe eyes of his,” Robin teased, giving you a gentle nudge with her shoulder. “But I figured there’s a story. A little bit like whatever’s going on between Nancy and Steve right now.”

“You noticed that, too,” you exclaimed.

“I think whoever didn’t notice by now should get their eyes checked.”

“I don’t think Nancy and Steve noticed, to be honest.”

It was strange yet beautiful to witness, the way Steve still cared for Nancy.

The way Lucas had never stopped loving Max, who – you were certain – still loved him in return.

When you’d walked out of Eddie’s trailer, his life, that freezing November night, you’d known the feelings for him which had taken root in your heart the night he’d saved you in the woods, which had grown and bloomed into a whole garden underneath the sunshine of his gentleness and smiles, the way he’d made you laugh and the way he’d been there, without ever asking anything in return…they would never wilt or die. You’d known that Eddie would always be the one.

Yet still, it scared you, how strong these feelings for him still were. How they’d seemed to grow fiercer these past two days. Eddie Munson had every right and reason to despise you – yet he’d proven that he still cared for you. Maybe it would have been easier, if he’d learned to hate you in the four months which had passed.

“I don’t think he ever stopped loving her,” you said softly.

“He didn’t. He never stopped,” Robin agreed, her voice holding a strange tone as she glanced at you.

“It’s beautiful. To know that even though Evil persists, love will, too.” There was a lump in your throat and a fierce stinging pain in your chest.

“So, will you tell me the story?”

A mirthless huff escaped you. “There’s no story, Robin. We were friends for two months, and then we weren’t.”

I killed whatever it was he’d been feeling for me at the time. And I did it because I was foolish enough to think it could keep him safe.

“Did you sleep with him?”, Robin blurted, and you nearly tripped over your feet.

“Robin!”

“It’s a legit question,” she protested defensively, waving her hand with Max’s RT unit.

“I’d appreciate if you couldn’t yell it across the whole damn neighborhood, though.”

“So, you did?”

“Please, please stop.”

“Just saying, I’m getting vibes between you and Eddie. I’m sensing tension.”

“That’s the imminent death we’re all rushing towards like a speeding truck.”

“Romantic tension,” Robin clarified, adding with a sultry wink, “Sexual tension.”

“WHAT?!”, Dustin’s horrified voice echoed from the RT unit in Robin’s hand, and you let out a horrified gasp.

“Robin! Turn it off!”

“Sorry!”, she exclaimed, fumbling with the button at the device’s side, “So sorry, that was a total accident.”

“Seems like the RT wasn’t the only thing that was turned on,” you could hear Steve’s muffled voice through the static in the background. He sounded decidedly annoyed.

“Oh god,” you groaned, ripping the damn RT unit from Robin’s hand to switch it off as you threw her a death glare. At least she had the sense to wince.

You could only hope that none of the others in the car had heard you and Robin. And that Steve and Dustin had the decency to keep what they’d heard to themselves.

“Sorry.”

“If Eddie heard any of that conversation on his RT, I’m coming for you, Robin,” you announced trough gritted teeth, stabbing the device’s antenna at her, “I’ll smother you in your sleep.”

“Holy shit,” Robin gasped as you reached the driveway to your house, your glare still firmly fixed on your friend.

“Yeah.”

“No,” Robin breathed, all the humor gone from her voice as her eyes widened with shock, and she grabbed your shoulders to turn you around.

To your car, parked at the side of the road in front of the house.

The windshield had been smashed in.

And smeared across the whole driver’s side in deep crimson paint that looked eerily like blood, someone had left a message for you.

SATAN’S SLUT.

A horrified gasp got stuck at the back of your throat as you stepped closer, and your focus caught on the thing dangling from your rearview mirror, your hand trembling as you leaned across the hood to loosen the silken bow-tie with which it was strung up like a macabre present. Nausea churned in your guts as you opened your hand to examine what it was.

Because there in your palm, the thing which had dangled from the rear-view mirror…it was a voodoo doll. It was crudely made, of scraps – but the mess of black wool spilling around its face left no doubt over who it was supposed to be, its black button eyes crisscrossed with angry slashes of red yarn, a familiar red demon’s face like the one on the Hellfire Club’s shirts painted on its chest.

And the thing they’d strung the doll up with, tied around its neck like a hangman’s noose…it was your green silk ribbon. The one Jason had pulled out of your hair the night he’d attacked you in the woods, before Eddie had swept in to save you.

I always thought you looked prettier with your hair down.

The deep, vibrant green had faded in places, the soft silken edges frayed, but you’d have recognized it everywhere. Barb and Nancy had given it to you when you’d joined the cheer squad, as a good luck charm for the first game you were cheering at. You’d always worn it ever since, for every game, until that night.

The night you and Eddie had defied Jason.

Someone had gone back to the clearing to retrieve it, like a sick souvenir.

And scrawled across the shattered windshield in those bright red letters, rivulets of paint having run down the shattered glass and dripped onto the dashboard, was another message.

HUNT THE FREAK.

“Jason,” Robin breathed, but you shook your head.

“No. Jason doesn’t get his hands dirty. That’s the work of his cronies. Andy and Chance and the rest of them.”

Which meant that they knew, or at least suspected, that you knew where Eddie was hiding.

“The message is clear.” Robin sounded as sick as you felt.

“It’s not a message,” you breathed. “It’s a threat.”

Your fingers folded over the little doll in your palm, the soft silk of your hair ribbon, as you turned to face your friend.

“We better get going to be on time for that townhall meeting. And we better make sure that nobody ever follows us out to…to his hiding place. Because if they find him…” You trailed off, bile rising in your throat at the thought of what would happen if Jason and his friends got their hands on Eddie, the memory of the nightmares which had plagued you the whole night, a sickening omen that mustn’t become reality. Eddie’s blood soaking the boathouse’s floorboards. Ravenous flames devouring everything, devouring Eddie; the flames of hatred and fury blazing through Hawkins like a wildfire out of control, out for Eddie’s blood.

Her expression dark, Robin finished your sentence. “They’ll kill him.”

 [Monday, October 28th, 1985. THEN.]

“Okay, what about Day Of The Dead?”, Eddie wanted to know.

The two of you were sitting on the top of the picnic table at the clearing, sharing the sandwiches you’d brought to evade the ‘death trap dressed in cheese’ Eddie used to call the lasagna the cafeteria had started to serve on Mondays. My working theory is that they just keep the leftovers of the week before and then use it to stuff the lasagna, Eddie had concluded at one point a few weeks ago, and you’d agreed with him.

The air was cold, but the sunlight shining through the now naked branches of the trees surrounding the clearing was warm on your face.

It had started with a note you’d slipped into Eddie’s locker. Meet me at the clearing for lunch? He had, and spending the Monday and Wednesday lunchbreaks together at the clearing had become an unspoken agreement between the two of you. Eddie, considerate as ever, had been worried about the location, considering Jason’s attack had happened in this exact spot…but it was where you’d first met Eddie as well, where you’d spent countless lunchbreaks in your freshman and sophomore year with Barb and Nance. So many happy memories clung to this place – and you didn’t want to let Jason ruin it with one horrible one.

The woods had become your safe haven; the grey space in between the black-and-white world of Hawkins High that kept you apart to avoid further bullying.

“Wait, or what about The Shining?”, he added as an afterthought, tearing you from your thoughts.

The two of you had been busy discussing the choice for your next movie night for the past ten minutes. Ever since that first study-Saturday when you’d spent seven hours napping in Eddie’s bed while he was playing the guitar for you, the low-budget horror movie you’d watched, had turned into a second Saturday movie night, and a third one, and finally into another unspoken ritual which had turned Saturday into your favorite day of the week.

It wasn’t exactly about the movie you were watching. Most of the time, you were chatting anyway, or laughing about the impressions Eddie did of whatever character was on screen right then.

Saturday would only be the fifth movie night – but it felt like these evenings had been part of your life since forever.

It felt like Eddie had been part of your life since forever.

You scrunched your nose. “What about Sixteen Candles?”

Eddie groaned. “A romance movie?”

“Well, we’ve watched every horror movie Family Video has to offer.”

“We’ve watched three horror movies,” Eddie deadpanned. “I’m sure your friend Harrington will be able to find some more. Else, he’s not exactly qualified for the job.”

You snickered. “Are you planning to demand to talk to a manager?”

“Nah, I’m not a snitch. I might hire someone to demand to talk to a manager, though,” Eddie grinned mischievously, squinting against the sunlight.

“We need to start later, though, this Saturday,” you said slowly. “It’s a game day. I’ll be cheering until…”, you did the math in your head, “Nine pm. Roughly.”

“Can I ask you something?” It sounded strangely hesitant.

“Sure.” You closed your eyes, angling your face for the sunlight to caress your cheeks as you nodded, waiting for Eddie to go on.

“You barely talk about cheerleading. And every time you do, you sound…not exactly happy. I was wondering…shouldn’t something you do in your free time be more fun?”

“Are you worried about my forced conformity?”, you asked playfully, but when your eyes flew open to meet his gaze, there was curiosity shining in Eddie’s eyes, and underneath, a dim shadow of concern.

It was astounding, how someone who’d only known you only for two months, could read you as well as an open book.

“I’m not going to lie,” you began softly, hands fiddling with the buttons of your coat just to have something to do, “You know, when I joined the cheer squad back in sophomore year, I did it because I thought it’d keep me safe from bullies. I…middle school wasn’t…a good place for me.”

It had been Hell. You fought down the memories, focusing on Eddie’s face as he waited for you to go on.

“I didn’t know that,” Eddie said quietly.

“I never said anything. I was too scared to make it worse.”

“What did they do?”, Eddie asked softly.

Your gaze fixed on a blackbird scouring the dread, fallen leaves on the ground for food, you said, “I guess it wasn’t anything special. They did what all bullies do. Under the lead of Stacy Campbell.”

“Wait…” Eddie began cautiously, “Wasn’t she…?”

“One of the people who died in the fire at Starcourt. Yes.” The blackbird ruffled its wings, sunlight tinting its feathers a beautiful shade of midnight-blue as you took a pause to grasp your next words. “They called me names, smeared bubble gum in my hair, said horrible things, threatened me. Mean notes during class when teachers weren’t looking. Sometimes she would sic some of the bigger guys in our class on me to hit me so I wouldn’t take the same way home as her. She lived in my neighborhood.”

There were other memories fighting themselves to the surface of your memories, like zombies rising from their graves. Stacy’s laugh as she’d shoved you into that supply cabinet, the door falling shut. The blinding pain and the tears as your hand shot out to hold the door open, fingers getting caught between the door and the frame as Stacy had locked it anyway. The darkness, your screams, fist pounding against the wood as you begged for them to let you out.

If you tell anyone, I’ll kill you. Do you hear me? I’ll kill you.

The friendly face of the old janitor who’d found you in his broom closet three hours later, cowering in the dark, knees hugged to your chest. Sacred and helpless. So utterly fucking powerless.

You swallowed against the lump in your throat, fought the zombies back into their graves where they belonged, where they could rot six feet under. “There wasn’t anything special they focused on, really,” you went on, “I guess they picked me because I never fought back. I always thought if I just sat it out, it would…”

“Pass,” Eddie said quietly.

“Yeah.”

“And did it? Pass?”

You threw him a soft glance. “Did it pass for you?”

He thought about that for a moment. “It did, in a way. I mean, I’ve been different ever since I can remember. And at some point in middle school, I realized that the situation wouldn’t change. I was branded a freak, and I was a freak. I am a freak. It was either changing myself to be normal, or to change my attitude. And since I was too stubborn to give up my whole damn self, I opted for the latter. I started wearing the freakiness like a shield in battle.”

“And you still believe you’re not brave,” you smiled.

“That wasn’t bravery. That was just good ol’ stubbornness.”

“Well, I picked number one, in a way. I changed part of myself, if you will.” You scoffed. “The irony of joining the cheer squad to avoid being bullied only to end up being bullied anyway isn’t lost on me, by the way,” you claimed with a mirthless little laugh, before you added, “But I actually fell in love with cheerleading.” You smiled, tilting you head as you watched the blackbird spread its wings and flutter into the air. “There’s just something about the atmosphere, the tension before a game. When everyone is thrilled and exited and ready, and everything can happen. I imagine it’s not so different from D&D, in that regard.”

“Well, I rectify that it’s the players I hate about the basketball sports, and not the game in itself,” Eddie snickered. “Apart from the fact that the thought of spending your time throwing balls through laundry baskets seems damned dreary.”

“Lucas Sinclair is a basketball player.”

“He’s never played a single game,” Eddie stated, “He’s a basketball benchwarmer, to this point. Though Sinclair is different. He’s one of us, not…”

“Not one of them?”

“Yeah. Sounds stupid, saying it out loud.”

“I get what you’re trying to say. But…I’m one of them, too.”

“Are you, though?”, Eddie grinned. “As far as I can tell, you’re hanging out with a freak right now. Maybe that makes you a freak, too.”

“That wouldn’t be bad thing,” you said softly, mirroring Eddie’s grin before averting your gaze again. “I fell in love with the dancing. But since that day in the woods, with Jason…I feel this…rage. Because I don’t want to cheer for him. I don’t want anyone to cheer for him. I want people to see how ugly he is inside, and the fact that none of them ever will see beneath the mask of guys like Jason makes me want to scream and cry and throw up all at the same time. I don’t want to cheer for him, but…”

“But leaving the cheer squad would mean he won.”

“Exactly,” you agreed. “And I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of me giving up something I love. To stay means that I’m still in control. It means I wont back down. And I hope that, whenever he sees me cheering beside Chrissy, who actually has no clue what type of guy her boyfriend is, there might be a tiny part of him afraid because I know who he truly is. If there’s one thing that scares guys like Jason, it’s the prospect of someone actually seeing past the polished, self-righteous façade.”

“There’s no shame in running, though,” Eddie said softly. “You know that, right? I’m not brave. I’m not half as brave as you. I don’t stay when it’s easier to run, and I’m sure as hell not one to fight, but you know that leaving the cheer squad wouldn’t be defeat if it brought you the peace of not having to cheer for that prick.”

You bit your lip, before echoing Eddie’s words, “It’s not bravery. It’s stubbornness. There’s a difference.”

“Wise words,” Eddie drawled. “Where did you hear them?”

You chuckled. “Some dude.”

For a moment, Eddie just looked at you, expression unreadable – before, with a swift motion, he pierced an invisible dagger through his heart, letting himself fall off the picnic table and into the pile of fallen leaves on the ground, your incredulous laughter ringing out over the clearing.

“Some dude!”, Eddie echoed, splaying his limbs on the ground like a starfish, “SOME DUDE!”

“You should have joined the theatre club!”, you exclaimed on a laugh.

“What does a dude have to do to switch the title dude for friend?”, Eddie asked, sitting up, dried leaves falling from his curls all around him as he combed a ringed hand through the strands to shake them out, “Murder? A blood pact? A holy oath?!”

“A holy oath sounds quite fitting to earn that title,” you teased, and Eddie sunk to his knees in front of you, head raised to glance up at you as he placed a hand over his heart. For some reason, the sight made a swarm of butterflies take flight in your belly.

“I solemnly swear – what do I swear?”

“It’s your oath!”, you laughed, “Earn that title, Munson.”

“I swear to follow you into Mordor when the Shire is burning,” Eddie announced, his grin wide and tone solemn.

“I don’t know even know what that means!”

“Because you still didn’t read the goddamn Lord Of The Rings! One day I’ll just read it to you.”

That didn’t sound bad at all. You loved Eddie’s voice. You loved its timbre, the way he used to draw out and drawl random words to give his sentences a lilting melody. You could have listened to him for hours.

Eddie’s expression grew stern again, a sudden fierceness flashing in his dark doe eyes as he said, “This is gonna sound fucking dumb but not once did I ever think that somebody would join the cheerleaders just because they loved dancing.”

“Well, probably because you can’t exactly dance to Heavy Metal,” you taunted playfully.

“Ha! That’s a lie. You can dance to everything.”

“No way. I’m listening to that mixtape every night to fall asleep and there’s not one single tune on it which would even remotely classify as dance-able.”

“Then you’re doing it wrong,” Eddie protested playfully, “Every song is dance-able if you’re committed enough.”

“I’m a cheerleader”, you protested, “I am committed. And I will go down with this: Heavy Metal is not dance-able.”

“Fine. Let’s make a bet,” Eddie drawled, rising back to his feet, “If I prove to you that you can dance perfectly fine to a random Metal song, I get to pick the movie for Saturday. If you’re right, you get to pick the movie.”

“One movie? I want five.”

“Three.”

“Aw, scared I’m gonna win and make you watch all the romantic movies you so fiercely denied me?”

“Um, yes,” Eddie nodded, “Hella scared. Do you we have a deal?”

“It would be the first deal ever since you talked me out of buying your drugs,” you winked, before you added, “Deal. Three movies. Bring it on, Munson.”

“Ah, that victorious little grin will vanish in a second, monster slayer,” Eddie grinned as he pulled his Walkman out of his lunchbox.

Holding up the headphones, he sunk into a theatric little bow as he asked, “May I, fair lady?”

“You may,” you replied with a barely suppressed grin as you hopped down from the tabletop, watching as Eddie stepped closer, gesturing for you to clip the Walkman to your jeans before slowly raising the headphones. His dark eyes rested intently on yours as he left it for you to take them or let him place them for you. You opted for the latter, giving him a smile as you inclined your head in a silent permission.

Gently, his eyes never leaving yours, Eddie placed the headphones over your ears, careful not to tug at your hair in the process, and your heart did a weird little flutter in your chest, sparks erupting beneath your ribs like sparklers on New Year’s Eve at the strange intimacy of the gesture.

Was it the gesture itself, you wondered – or was it simply the fact that it was Eddie who was placing the headphones over your ears, this tenderness in his eyes as he watched you, the way the heel of his right hand briefly, as fleeting as a spring breeze, brushed your cheek?

As if caught doing something he shouldn’t have been doing, though, Eddie pulled his hands away, ripping you out of your thoughts, and with heat flaring in your cheeks, you reached down to press play on his Walkman.

The first notes of the song floated through the headphones – the tinkling of a guitar, surprisingly soft for a metal song, and his smile growing playful once more, Eddie held out his hands for you as he asked, “Care to dance, monster slayer?”

*Woke up to the sound of pouring rain The wind would whisper and I'd think of you, a voice began to sing as you placed your hands in Eddie’s – and a jolt of electricity zapped through you at the touch, your heartbeat accelerating as he slowly pulled you a little closer.

Close enough to catch a whiff of his scent on the autumn breeze brushing over the clearing, playing with Eddie’s dark curls, the sunlight painting brushstrokes of light brown into the strands and making patterns of shadows dance over his face.

“And all the tears you cried – they called my name And when you needed me I came through”

Eddie led you into a slow dance, your hands resting in his, heartbeat pounding its own rhythm in your ears alongside the tune floating through the headphones.

It was a beautiful song. It was happy and heartbreaking, cheerful and haunting all at the same time.

Paint a picture of the days gone by When love went blind and you would make me see I'd stare a lifetime into your eyes

Eddie’s eyes were sparkling in the pattern of sunlight falling through the foliage above, making the umber of his irises shimmer in hues of maple syrup when the light hit them, and the flash of his smile as he glanced at you was as radiant as the autumn sun overhead, like sunrays on your heart.

So that I knew that you were there for me Time after time you were there for me

A soft giggle escaped you as, with the bravado of a dancer in a Victorian ballroom, Eddie led you into a twirl.

Remember yesterday - walking hand in hand Love letters in the sands - I remember you

“You tricked me!”, you exclaimed on a soft laugh, “That’s not Heavy Metal!”

“It’s Skid Row. It’s definitely Metal,” Eddie grinned, before he started to sing along – how he did it, you had no clue since you were the one wearing the headphones.

“And through the sleepless nights, through every endless day,” his dark voice drawled, running over your senses like syrup, so beautifully dark as he hummed along, “I wanna hear you say, "I remember you."”

“How are you doing this?”, you marveled, and for a moment, Eddie actually looked confused.

“Do what?”

“Sing along, perfectly in tune. You don’t even hear the song.”

“Oh, that. Yeah, I know it by heart. I hear it in my mind.”

We've had our share of hard times But that's the price we paid

He gently led you into another twirl, this one a little bolder – and you briefly lost your footing, stumbling against Eddie’s chest when you came out of the twirl, his free hand shooting out to grasp your elbow in an attempt to steady you as you laughed.

“Sorry!”, he said softly – and something in his eyes changed at the sudden closeness, a shift you could feel resonating within your own chest.

And through it all we kept the promise that we made I swear you'll never be lonely

For a heartbeat, you watched each other, closer than ever before, one of your hands resting in Eddie’s and his other still gently clasping your elbow, that strange new expression in his dark eyes as they briefly, for a moment so fleeting that you thought you’d imagined it, flitted down to your lips.

Through the sleepless nights, through every endless day I wanna hear you say, "I remember you."

There was a pull, like a tug towards him, two magnets drawn to each other as you leaned closer, closer towards Eddie, following this strange gravity, closer until the tip of his nose was nearly brushing yours and the faintest whiff of his scent of leather and cigarettes and chocolate caressed your senses alongside the autumn breeze on your cheeks, your heart stopping and time freezing like that moment on a roller coaster, when the cart had reached the highest point and you were waiting for the drop, the thrill tickling your stomach and your heart racing as Eddie leaned closer –

Something hit him in the face, making him stumble a step back and letting go of you as he started laughing, brushing the maple leaf away that the autumn wind had blown against his cheek.

And with your heart stumbling and your mind spinning like a carousel on a Carnival, you joined in the laughter, realizing only now that the next song had already started playing.

And that you’d completely forgotten the time.

It was a curious thing, how time warped whenever you were with Eddie; slowing down and speeding up all at the same time when you wanted nothing but to freeze it, to put the seconds into polaroids so you’d never forget a single one of them.

“Oh god, we need to go back,” you exclaimed as you took off the headphones, extending the Walkman for Eddie, whose cheeks held a dusting of pink – but that might as well have simply been a trick of the sunlight filtering through the crimson leaves above – as he took the device.

“I gotta wait a few minutes longer,” Eddie winced, “Drug deal.”

“Okay,” you grinned, “So…see you Saturday.”

“See you Saturday,” he echoed, looking as flustered as you felt. You’d already turned to dart away as Eddie’s triumphant shout rang out from behind, “By the way, I won! I get to pick the next three movies!”

“That wasn’t real heavy metal!”, you laughed.

But your mind wasn’t on the movies. It was replaying that moment in your mind, over and over again. Of Eddie, his lips mere inches from yours. His eyes, flitting down to your lips for the glimpse of a second.

Of what might have happened between the two of you, had it not been for that single maple leaf carried by the wind.

And the realization that you wanted nothing more than turn back the time for a few minutes, catch that leaf, crumple it in your hands…and kiss him.

[Tuesday, July 2nd, 1985. BEFORE STARCOURT.]

You woke on the ground of the old steel mill, beneath the light of the summer night’s stars twinkling down through the cracked, dirt-caked overhead lights. Heather and Billy were gone, leaving you alone.

But no. You weren’t alone.

It talked to you.

The voice in your mind that wasn’t one but millions whispered to you. Horrible things. Commands.

You rolled to your side, hands splayed on the dirty concrete, eyes fixed on the weeds sprouting from the cracks on the ground as nature reclaimed the corpse of the abandoned steel mill, pushing yourself up –

Even in the pale light of the stars, you could see them. Veins, an abysmal black like that thing in your head, creeping over the back of your hands, spreading up your arms, up, up, up. Over your body, writhing underneath your skin.

And finally, the scream which had been locked at the back of your throat ripped free.

But you knew what came next.

You knew what it had made Will Byers do.

And you needed to make sure to stay away; far, far way, where you couldn’t harm your friends.

You didn’t have much time to lock your body up, before the Mind Flayer could do the same with your mind.

Before it would make you dance on its strings.

 [Sunday, March 24th, 1986. NOW.]

When you and Robin reached the townhall, the sun was already sinking below the horizon, painting brushstrokes of deep crimson across the heavens. It looked like the sky was on fire. It looked like the sky was bleeding.

Through the broken windshield of your car, you could see that the parking lot was already packed, the last few people climbing up the stairs towards the entrance as you parked the car at the side of the road.

There had been no time to scrub off the paint.

It didn’t matter, anyway. You didn’t care anymore what anyone would think about you. If they wanted to think you were in league with the devil, you wouldn’t change their minds. All you cared about was to keep Eddie safe until you’d all found a way to clear his name.

And if not…you didn’t want to think about it.

About the blood and the flames in your dream which felt like an omen rather than a nightmare now.

The sense of doom in your chest intensified with the chorus of angry voices rising through the closed wooden double doors of the assembly room when Robin and you marched through the foyer.

The assembly had already started. Crowded as it was, the room was even more claustrophobic, with its low ceiling and pale artificial lights even more glum than when you’d been here last time, three years ago. When Will and Barb had gone missing.

Nobody paid the two of you any heed as you snuck through the doors and took two of the few still vacant seats in the last row at the back of the crowded, stuffy room just as Chief Powell declared from his place on the podium, “…to impose a curfew of eight pm, effective as of now.”

An angry murmur travelled through the assembled crowd.

“Hide from him?”

“A curfew?!”

Letting your gaze roam over the rows, your gaze briefly locked on the throng of Jason and his basketball friends occupying one of the front rows, their green letterman jackets sticking out of the crowd. For the first time, Jason’s presence actually made you feel overpowering relief – because if he and his cronies were here, they hadn’t found Eddie yet.

“We’re already hiding!”

“Why haven’t you caught him yet? Out children are in danger!”, an angry female voice rose from the front row under nods of assent, and on the podium, Powell and Callahan threw each other a worried glance.

“We are doing everything in our power to find him,” Chief Powell tried to soothe.

“This town has turned into a goddamn tinderbox,” Robin whispered.

She was right. These people were scared. They wanted an easy explanation, because easy explanations bore easy solutions which would bring back normality. They wouldn’t be calmed by rational arguments, because they didn’t care about rationality. They wanted this nightmare to be over.

Hawkins had turned into a powder keg.

A single spark…and everything would go up in flames.

The chorus of angry murmurs and in-between-shouts rose as Chief Powell added, “In the meantime, as we said – the curfew will be enforced for your own safety until we get a hold of Eddie Munson –“

“We want that psycho freak gone!”, someone in the crowd hissed.

“We should say something,” you breathed, but Robin’s hand shot out to keep you in your seat as she hissed, “And what? They won’t listen. They’re not interested in the truth.”

“I can’t keep sitting here, letting them say all these things – “

You cut yourself off at a flash of green in the front, and your heart plummeted to the floor as Jason Carver rose from his seat.

“No. We have waited long enough,” Jason exclaimed, his voice laced with barely contained rage.

No. No, no –

“Fuck,” you heard Robin mutter under her breath.

“Jason,” Chief Powell began, “Why don’t we talk about this in private –“

“Why? So you can keep me quiet? So you can keep the truth from coming out? I don’t want to listen to any more lies and excuses!”

“That’s enough.”

“I agree, that’s enough!”, Jason called out, and agreeing shouts rose in the crowd. “I think we’ve all had enough!”

And the assembly hall erupted in applause as Jason strode towards the microphone in front of the podium while your blood froze in your veins with fear, with rage, with hatred.

“These murders,” Jason began, “These murders weren’t simply murders. They’re ritualistic sacrifices.” He paused, his steely eyes scanning the crowd as he let his words sink in, fuel to the fire of their fear. “Have you not wondered about all the strange things happening in our midst? The deaths, the fire at the mall? Have you never asked yourself whether this town is cursed? It is. It is cursed. There is evil in our midst. Evil growing in our beautiful town.”

With a meaningful pause, Jason pulled something out of the back pocket of his jeans, the rustle of paper carried through the room by the microphone clutched in his hands as he unfolded it, before he held up the printout.

Even from the back of the room, you recognized the picture.

It was the yearbook photo of the Hellfire Club.

As if on cue, Jason’s friends rose from their seats, stacks of more printouts in their hands and stern expressions on their faces that barely concealed the self-righteous gleam in their eyes as they started distributing them.

“They call themselves the Hellfire Club,” Jason announced, his own expression a mix of graveness and something else, something you couldn’t quite decipher from your spot. “And their leader, the puppet master behind all of these things…it’s Eddie Munson. Eddie Munson killed Chrissy. And he killed Fred. And if we don’t stop him, he’ll kill again!”

“That’s bullshit!” Erica Sinclair shouted, jumping up from her chair, her mother already reaching out to pull her down again, “Hellfire isn’t a cult! It’s a club for nerds!”

“A club! That’s what they want you to think – but it’s a lie!”, Jason shouted. “A lie to conceal the truth! This club – they’re protecting Eddie, allowing him to continue his rampage.”

The stack of printouts had reached you and Robin, the black letters WANTED scrawled across the top with black sharpie glaring back at you from across the photo.

Of Eddie, his grin frozen in black-and-white, still radiant in the achromatic blur of the printout as his hands formed devil’s horns over his head to match the demon’s grimace on his Hellfire shirt.

Jason’s voice calmed, the shout morphing into a slow, strained tone as he said, “Last night…I became overwhelmed with a sense of hopelessness. But then, I remembered. I remembered Romans 12:21: Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”

The silence which had fallen over the room, sinking in the air as all eyes were fixed on Jason, all the attention zoning in on his words, was even more sickening than the words, the lies, he was spinning.

Lies, you realized, which Jason had started to believe himself.

“Eddie Munson,” he said slowly, his eyes roaming the enraptured crowd, drawing out the words to make them sink deep, “Is a monster. And monsters need to be defeated. They need to be slain!”

You waited for Chief Powell to intervene, to stop Jason, stop him from building his lynch mob, but the assembled officers just watched, confused and rattled and powerless.

And something inside of you, something buried deep in your heart ever since that night in the woods, ever since Jason had pulled that green silk ribbon out of your hair and forced his lips on yours, his hands beneath your skirt before Eddie had ripped him away from you…it snapped.

In this daze of blinding, white-hot fury, your feet carried you to the front of the room, approaching slowly, your chin raised and eyes levelled at him with defiance, rage overpowering that sickening feeling you felt in your chest whenever your eyes locked with Jason’s because this time, you wouldn’t let him get away with his lies.

Not this time. Not today.

And for a split second as his eyes met yours, there was a spark of something in Jason’s steel-blue ones, flashing beneath the self-righteous fury.

Fear.

“Lies?” you echoed his words, and the room fell quiet at the dangerous calmness in your raised tone, the ice in your demeanor as you came to stand in front of Jason. “Lies, to conceal the truth? That sounds awfully familiar, Jason.”

The ice in your veins had turned to fire blazing through your veins, scalding flames filling you when you turned to face the crowd.

And you finally dared to raise your voice.

Not for you, but for Eddie. For the gentle, kind-hearted, dorky young man with the beautiful doe eyes and the sunshine smiles. The person who, with his kindness and his heart of gold, his quirky humor and gentleness, had caught you when you’d been teetering on the edge of an abyss you’d never have been able to climb out of on your own. For Eddie, who’d jumped on that damn cafeteria table to face Jason for you when you hadn’t found the courage to do so yourself.

For Eddie, the boy who’d left his handprint on your heart and his kiss on your lips, the boy you still loved more than anything else.

“Do you want to know the truth about our golden boy Jason Carver?”, you spoke up, and your gaze met Robin’s. Erica’s. Karen Wheeler’s. They would believe you. Three people in this room, at least, would believe you. You swallowed. “Last year, on a night in September, Jason Carver followed me out into the woods after a basketball game. He attacked me. And he would have hurt me, hadn’t it been for Eddie Munson.”

Whispers rose as you let your words sink in, the gravity of them, before you went on, “I know you are angry. I know you are scared, terrified. But what’s happening in this town – it’s not Eddie. Eddie Munson is not a monster. He’s innocent.”

“That boy is good for nothing!”, someone shouted.

“He’s selling drugs! Hard drugs!”

“Yeah?” That was Erica, jumping to her feet again before Mrs. Sinclair could grab her, hands curled to fists at her sides. “How do you know Eddie’s been selling these drugs, Mr. Fletcher?”

There were a few snickers as Mrs. Sinclair managed to pull Erica back down to her chair again.

Before you could go on, Jason was at your side, the microphone in one hand, the other settling on your shoulder before you shook it off, shied away from his touch as he said, his tone dripping with this horrid, false compassion that made your stomach twist, “I didn’t want to do this. But I see that my silence has done nothing but harm. That maybe, if I had spoken up about what Eddie Munson has done, even before he lured poor Chrissy to his home to kill her…I could have prevented it. But Chrissy is not the first girl falling victim to his evil. Last year…it is true. I followed her into the woods,” Jason gestured at you, pausing, before he said, “It was after one of our games. She looked terrible. She was scared, she looked sick. Terrified of something, when she ran into the darkness. I wanted to make sure she was okay, that she was safe alone out there. You all know the story. You all know what happened next.”

A few of the other students in the crowd nodded their heads, leering grins, disgusted smirks, dirty stares leveling at you like arrows as some of them started to snicker.

This couldn’t be happening.

Your gaze met Robin’s, her eyes wide with shock and disbelief at the scene, both of you frozen in your places as Jason went on, “That is why I followed her. And I caught her with that freak.”

Disgusted whispers floated through the air, giggles and snickers.

“It was a…compromising position. And Eddie Munson…he snapped. He punched me, and he threatened to sacrifice me to Satan.”

“He’s lying!”, you called out, rallying all your willpower to keep the despair from your voice, the tears from your eyes, steel yourself. But you could tell people didn’t care. You could tell they wouldn’t believe you, just like you’d thought. Like you’d known, even back in September.

The last sliver of hope you’d been clinging to was snuffed out as, with a tremble in his voice, Jason exclaimed, “He has twisted her mind with the sick things he was making her do with him. Unspeakable things. Just like he did with poor, sweet, innocent Chrissy.”

“Don’t you see that he’s lying?! Eddie never harmed me! Eddie never laid a hand on anyone! It was Jason –“

“Why didn’t you go to the police station to report the alleged crime you say Jason wanted to commit?”, Chief Powell asked quietly.

“Would you have believed me?”, you spat. “It was Jason Carver’s word against mine. Who would you have believed, Chief? Hawkins’ golden boy and basketball star – or a cheerleader and a freak?”

“I believe you!”, Erica hollered, rising back to her feet with fire in her eyes, as Robin rose from her own seat. “And I!”

Ignoring their shouts, drowned out by the rising noise in the room, Jason turned to face you.

“I am sorry,” he said, voice booming through his microphone, and for a confused moment, you thought he was confessing what he’d done, what he’d tried to do – but the plea in his voice didn’t reach his eyes.

They were hard and frozen like shards of glass, glinting with hatred as you refused to avert your gaze, refused to back down and give in to the nausea, the sickening memories of his lips pressed against yours to silence your screams for help, his hands on your body, his weight pinning you in place.

But there were other memories rising to combat them.

Of Eddie, his lips brushing yours in a kiss so gentle and sweet, his fingertips caressing your skin, the tenderness and warmth shining in his eyes as he looked at you, watched you to make sure you were okay; his umber eyes so warm and soft, so different from the sharp ice of Jason’s.

“I’m sorry,” Jason repeated, “I might have been able to help you. I might have been able to help Chrissy, had I known back then.”

And when his words filled the air, you finally realized what it was, glittering in his eyes.

Madness.

Because in the twisted narrative Jason had built for himself, he was the hero. He was the chosen one to slay the monster and save Hawkins.

And he’d started to believe his own lies.

Bile rose in your throat, acidic and bitter as Jason whirled around to face the crowd once more.

“And I say: We’ve waited long enough! If the police can’t do it, we can. Together. Rid our beautiful town of Evil. And hunt the monster hiding in our midst!”

There was a beat of silence. A silence so all-encompassing that you could have heard a pin drop at the back of the room.

A second ticked by, two, three.

And the room erupted in rage-filled cheers.

 [Wednesday, July 3rd, 1985. BEFORE STARCOURT.]

You screamed. You thrashed. No matter the agony of these talons of black mist hacking away at you caused, dissecting your thoughts, your very essence, piercing your mind like the needles of a lepidopterologist the fragile wings of a butterfly.

Fight. You needed to fight.

You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry for help and scream with this blinding anguish of the thing which had taken home in your head, poisoning your thoughts, guiding your muscles.

Cowering at the floor of the Community pool’s supply room, hiding away from the scalding light of the sun, locked and muted in your own mind, there was nobody who would have heard your screams, even if the Mind Flayer had allowed for them to escape.

But your strength, the thing which had kept you fighting the shadow in your mind through the whole night, was fading, dying like the flame of a candle in a storm, a last remaining spark clinging to its wick as the monster scoured your memories.

The worst of them.

One by one, examining them like the tapes in a video store.

And finally, it found one.

 [Sunday, March 24th, 1986. NOW.]

Frozen in place, you watched them leave. The families of Hawkins, the neighbors and strangers alike had turned into an angry mob, out for blood, guided by Jason’s madness, his elaborate words like the tune of the Pied Piper’s flute luring an army of rats. Another hivemind.

They weren’t interested in the truth.

They were interested in vengeance, in someone to blame, a scapegoat to slaughter to create the illusion that Evil had been defeated by Good.

They wanted the killer to be Eddie. Because he was different. Because he was a freak.

It was as simple as that.

There, elbowing her way against the stream of people filing out of the townhall in the middle of the assembly, was Robin, your friend’s blue eyes a tether to keep the overpowering panic clawing at you at bay for now.

“You faced him,” Robin whispered as she reached you, pulling you into an embrace.

“We don’t have time for that,” you breathed. “We need to get to Eddie before they do. We need to bring him out of this Hellhole town, and we need to do it now. You need to get the others, Robin. Grab the RT, and alert the others. Do you hear me?”

“What about you?”

“I’ll go to the boathouse. I’ll tell him what happened and we’ll all meet up there, okay?”

I need to see him. I need to go to him.

Robin understood. You could see it in her stern expression as she pulled away from the hug.

“I’ll meet you there.” She squeezed your hand. “We’ll get him out of this mess. It’s gonna be okay. He’s gonna be okay.”

You both knew it was a lie.

 [Wednesday, July 3rd, 1985. BEFORE STARCOURT.]

You couldn’t remember how she got here.

How you got here.

But you knew the girl writhing on the ground, struggling against the jump ropes binding her wrists and ankles. The duct tape over her mouth was muting her cries for help as you watched her try to struggle free of her restraints, the wheat blond color of her hair dulled by the dirt on the old steel mill’s floor, sticky with the blood running from a cut on her temple.

There was a vague memory, blurred by freezing black smoke. Of a fist, veins writhing beneath the skin like creepers, landing a punch.

And finally, the girl’s head whipped around. Her panicked, bloodshot eyes met yours, recognition flashing in her gaze beneath the tears rushing down her cheeks.

“Do you remember me?”, you asked quietly.

Of course she did.

How could she not? She’d worked so hard to make these three years of middle school living Hell for you.

“Because I remember you, Stacy,” you said.

Every little cruelty.

Every hissed word.

Every pinch and bruise and scratch you’d hidden from the teachers, home, because if they found out… If you tell anyone, I’ll kill you. Do you hear me? I’ll kill you.

The thing poisoning your mind made sure you did remember.

The freezing talons in your mind dug deeper, replaying the memories, over and over again like a broken slide show. Every second of pain and shame and humiliation and fear.

All the ways this girl on the ground had terrorized you, had terrorized others.

You tried to fight the memories, fight the thing freezing your muscles in place, commanding your limbs, sending agony through your veins – but it was stronger. So, so much stronger. And you were so incredibly tired of fighting.

You’d only wanted her to stop.

To leave you alone. Leave you be.

The shadow showed it to you again, locking you up in the memory just like she had locked you up in the dark.

Your screams as the door to the supply closet was slammed shut. The sound of the lock snapping drowned out by your sobs as you pleaded them to let you out, the gleeful laughter of Stacy and her friends, the pain in your hand because your fingers had gotten caught in the doorframe as you’d tried to stop them.

The powerlessness.

The fear you’d felt that day, in these hours, and the all-consuming rage afterwards.

That very same rage blazing through you right now, a wildfire that couldn’t be contained any longer, unleashed by this ancient evil thing in your head.

“This is what you wanted”, the chorus of voices that was one whispered.

Purred.

No. No, no, no. That’s not what I wanted. That’s not what I am.

“I made you a gift.”

I didn’t want to do it. You made me do it. You made me do it –

The shadow in your mind made you kneel next to her, made your eyes hold hers, take in the tears on her face as it guided your fingers to rip away the duct tape, releasing her whimpered pleas into the stale air.

I’m sorry, you wanted to tell her.

“Liar”, the shadow whispered.

I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to do any of this.

“I see your heart, little liar. I see everything you’re hiding from the world. From yourself. We are alike. We are so much more alike than you think.”

Something moved in the darkness, the space the pale moonlight seeping through the cracked window pane didn’t reach.

Moved towards the spot where it made you kneel beside Stacy.

“Hold very still,” it commanded with your voice. “It will be over soon.”

The thing in the shadows stalked closer.

And it made you watch as it got Stacy, her screams of terror muted as the black smoke forced itself into her mind.

And deep down, beneath your terror…you knew the Mind Flayer was right.

There, in the crevices, in the deepest, darkest corners of your heart…was a part that felt a glimmer of satisfaction when the monster got her. Locked her up in the dark, muted and helpless and sobbing, just as she’d done with you.

Broke her mind like she’d broken a tiny part of yourself that day.

And this part, this tiny little piece feeling glee as it watched…that belonged to you, not the monster. All you.

Even if the Mind Flayer left, even if your friends would be able to save you…there was a part of you, deep down, that was just as rotten and horrid as this evil thing. And that part…it could never be burned out of you.

And that was the most horrifying thing of it all.

 [Sunday, March 24th, 1986. NOW.]

You counted the seconds ticking by, bleeding into minutes, simply to have something to do as you cowered in the bathroom stall, waiting for the angry crowd to file out of the building and the parking lot to make sure nobody would follow you to the boathouse.

Blood was rushing in your ears, adrenaline accelerating your heartbeat to a painful wild thumping as you battled the nausea in your guts, the flood of images your racing mind was conjuring – one more gruesome than the next, all the horrible possibilities of what would happen if they ever found Eddie.

If Jason found Eddie.

When the last voices and footsteps in the foyer beyond the bathroom door had faded, and the eerie silence of a graveyard had settled over the place, you dared to let out a trembling exhale and pushed yourself to your feet.

It felt like sleepwalking.

Out of the bathroom, through the townhall’s foyer, into the twilight of the parking lot, illuminated by the last dying rays of sunlight and the orange glow of the street light which had flared to life.

There weren’t many cars left in the dimply lit space, but as you were about to dart around a lonely parked Range Rover, voices were cutting through the early night.

Familiar voices.

Jason’s voice.

“…list of all places where he could possibly be hiding.”

You hunched down behind the car’s driver’s side, huddling against the cool metal as you squeezed your eyes shut to combat the fresh wave of panic as, above the roar of blood in your ears, you listened.

“What are we gonna do when we found him?” That was Patrick McKinney.

“Talk to him,” another voice, Chase or Andy or one of Jason’s other henchmen crooned. “We just want to know what he did to Chrissy.”

You didn’t need to see their faces – you could feel their self-righteousness, the malicious smirks on their lips. The thrill of the hunt sparking in their eyes, like a pack of wolves chasing a deer.

“Got a lot of stuff with you to ask the freak a few questions,” one of them quipped, and snickers rose into the night, lacing with the all-too-familiar clattering sounds of iron and wood.

Gathering all your courage, you straightened a little, just enough to throw a glimpse across the range rover’s hood to where Jason and his mates had gathered around Jason’s own car, the trunk wide open to reveal an assortment of baseball bats and crowbars that made bile rise in your throat as you sunk back down, hands splayed on the asphalt to tether you as one of them said, “Can I see that list?”

“Not much on it yet. Why, you got something to share with the group?”, Jason questioned.

There was a beat of silence before the second voice said, “I think he’s hiding at Reefer Rick’s.”

Your heart froze in your chest.

No.

No, no, no, no –

“Reefer Rick’s?”, Jason inquired.

“2121 Holland Road. He’s Eddie’s supplier. He’s in jail but some of the old drunks always hanging around the lake insist he’s back home and now my parents are totally freaking out.”

“So, we’ll add it to the list?”

“No,” Jason said slowly. There was grim determination in his voice. “We’re heading there right now. Let’s go and hunt ourselves a freak.”

Their hoots and cheers at Jason’s words rose into the darkness, like the chanting of a crowd during a game of basketball.

They would kill him. They would kill Eddie.

You wouldn’t let that happen.

Eddie was still at the boathouse, not knowing that Jason had found him, waiting because you’d told him you’d come to him with new food supplies after the townhall meeting so when he would hear the car, he wouldn’t run. He’d open that fucking door and let Jason in because he’d think it was you.

You needed to warn Eddie, let them know they’d found him – but realization sunk in that there was no way because…you’d handed Robin your RT.

Your car. You needed to get to your car. To somehow make your way past Jason and his cheering friends without them noticing, to somehow get to the boathouse before they did, with their bats and crowbars and the violence in their twisted minds and the hatred they’d been harboring for Eddie and people like him long before anything had happened to Chrissy.

Panic dazing your mind, adrenaline barreling through your blood, you scooted backwards, away from the range rover and the voices as your mind was racing with despair, trying to find a way past.

Breath bated, you tiptoed backwards, step after careful step – and bumped into something.

Someone.

Whirling around, you came face to face with Andy Warren. Jason’s right hand.

The smile he gave you beneath the shadow his baseball cap threw across his face was wicked as his hands gripped your arms, ripping you up to your feet.

No.

No –

You struggled, writhed in his grip, but Andy was stronger, his fingers digging into your skin as he dragged you out of your hiding place and towards the others, towards Jason.

“Jason,” Andy called out with a drawl, and Jason’s head whipped around, cold eyes gleaming as they locked on yours.

“Look what the tide brought in. Looks like we caught the freak’s little slut.”

---

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 | So, in the next chapter, you’ll finally learn what happened that November Night. I can’t wait for you to read it. I’m impossibly sad that this has turned into a fix-it fic, but as I promised: I’ll fix it. There will be a lot more bonus chapters after this one, and I’ve plotted the ending of this story in a way that allows for me to rewrite Season 5 as a possible sequel. My hopes are still up that Eddie might return, but if he doesn’t...I’ll just write him into it. In the meantime, thank you for reading, and I hope this story can give you some comfort, lovelies. Stay tuned for Chapter 7 - it’ll contain 3k words of pure smut and I think you’re gonna love the angst. Happy ending guaranteed, of course ♡

𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞  𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩  𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭! 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭, 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 ♡