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flightfoot · 4 months

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ML Fanfic Recs for 2023: 10K - 20K Words

So I’ve been going through and adding particularly good fics I’ve read throughout the year. Only Complete fics, of course. Enjoy!

Chat Noir and Marinette decide to fake date in order to get Buttercup jealous enough to confess. Why won’t that boy make a move on such a wonderful girl as Marinette? And why is he beginning to hope that Buttercup stays blind?

Adrien wakes up in Nino’s arms. Neither of them have any explanation for this, considering they were nowhere near each other the night before.

Marinette and Zoe uncover a ring stashed away in a closet. Why does it have an unusual effect on Chloe?

Felix isn’t careful enough when he goes snooping around the Agreste Mansion. Gabriel decides that he can’t let him roam free.

Kim bets Alix that she won’t be able to attend all of her friends’ weddings in a row. She has never been one to turn down a challenge.

All this and more below the break!

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May I Introduce Myself, Your Highness? by @chocoluckchipz

Whether picking up a stray animal off the streets or saving a dying child at the market, Adrien had always strived to be the best version of himself. Truly, he would've been the perfect candidate to be snatched up by a kwami, were he an orphan, dying somewhere remote after a short life full of nothing but suffering and misery. Yet as it stood, the sole heir to the French throne had little to complain about. Apart from, perhaps, a complete absence of a love life. That is until a mysterious girl, wandering around his gardens at night, catches his attention.

I love Fantasy AUs. It’s a bit unclear what’s happening at first, but it all gets explained in the last chapter. Also don’t worry about the age gap between Marinette and Adrien at the start of the story, I promise it’s not a problem in the end.

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do you think I have forgotten about you? by @roseinaugust

Based on the song 'About You' by The 1975. Memory Loss. Told in alternating time lines, one leading up to and one dealing with the aftermath of Marinette relinquishing the Miracle Box and the guardianship. Marinette struggles with her life after losing her memory, though there is a persistent voice that calls to her that always seems just out of reach in her memory.

Beautiful memory loss fic here, with seeing Ladybug’s and Chat Noir’s relationship before she gave up the Miracle box, juxtaposed with the present day, when Adrien is only a stranger to her. I could really feel how Marinette was struggling with navigating these new circumstances, with her friends seeming to expect her to remember, to be who she was to them, to Adrien especially, before, and her just... not knowing whether she can do that. It’s got a happy ending though, for those who are concerned about that.

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Creative Lies and Destructive Truths by @azuriteartist

Alya and Lila are two sides of a never-ending fight. The fight between truth and lies, between honesty and deception, between justice and personal gain. And now they have the powers to elevate that fight to a city-wide level.

Can Alya stop the deception before it destroys the city? And can Lila stop the truth before it destroys her?

So everyone who’s been around my blog for awhile knows how much I love Alya getting the spotlight (I mean my sideblog alyaappreciation is dedicated to her, because frankly, she needs it), and azurite’s lovely fic here is no exception. Fu ended up giving Tikki to Lila and Plagg to Alya. There actually isn’t tension between them at first, they get along well to start with, but Plagg knows Lila’s lying about things and eventually pushes Alya to take action once they grow alarming, until the two of them are both accusing each other of being liars as superheroes, and the public doesn’t know what to believe.

I’m betting there’s more of this AU to come. I hope so, I love the consideration and agency it gives to both Alya and Lila.

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How Marinette Learned to Stop Worrying And Love The Ball by @rosie-b

Hidden from the crowds thronging around the busy fairy portal in Paris's town square, a fae gate sits at the edge of the forest, locked, rusty, and full of ancient magic. Marinette thinks that this abandoned gate must not work anymore... but one day, a fairy disguised as a black cat steps through it.

Ah, Fantasy Soulmate AUs, my beloved XD. This ain’t the only one of this fic type I’m gonna be recommending. This is just a cute fluff fic without much strife. I love Marinette and Chat Noir being able to be childhood friends via his visits, even if he has to pretend to be her cat whenever he comes over, and I ESPECIALLY adore Alya being his chaperone and quickly becoming friends with Marinette in her own right. It ain’t a complicated plot, but it is a nice and warm fic.

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Vengeance Noire by @phiellydinyia

After a horrific argument with his father, Adrien escaped from the mansion with his heart in pieces. In hindsight, it made sense why an akuma was sent his way. He shouldn't have let his emotions get the better of him.

But he never expected Plagg to be even more upset than he was. He never expected his own kwami to be akumatized. To become the threat of a city he swore to protect. And what's worse is the fact that Chat Noir can't jump in to save this one.

But Ladybug can. And that's why he has to find her as quickly as possible, suit or no suit.

I love some good Adrien angst, especially with a delicious side order of Plagg and Adrien’s bond with each other. Even as Adrien’s barely functional, though, he’ll do everything in his power to save Plagg, even if Plagg wishes he wouldn’t go quite that far.

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the best laid plans (of bugs and bakers) by @mexicancat-girl

Paris is buzzing with the appearance of a new ladybug-themed hero, Scarabella.

Alya decides to use her second hero identity to help her best friend Marinette. A bit of her flirting with Marinette is bound to make Marinette's crushes jealous and finally ask her out! Her plan is fool-proof…!

Except when it's not. Not enough people are talking about Scarabella flirting with Marinette. How can Alya properly help her best friend if the news can't be bothered to cover Marinette's budding romance with Scarabella and only posts things about Marinette with Chat Noir?! So Alya puts her all into her plan, upping up her flirting each time she appears as the newbie hero Scarabella.

This totally does not backfire in any way.

I adore fics that center on Alya, I haven’t exactly been shy about that fact. This is a nice one for some Alyanette adorableness! (And some Scarabella and Chat banter, I really enjoyed reading that as well). “Fake” flirting to make crushes jealous tends to turn real very quickly, and this is no exception. It’s hilarious, Alya’s the last one to figure out that her romantic relationship with Marinette is very much real XD.

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Control by @generalluxun

A fun and rebellious gesture by her friend Zoé leaves Marinette accidently in possession of something more precious than she ever expected to hold.

It's a blessing. It's a curse. It's life itself.

She has no idea what to do. There is so much wrapped up not only in WHAT, but also WHO. Her friends and partners can offer advice, consolation, and support, but in the end when you are both Ladybug and the Guardian you are the one in control.

This is a fantastic SentiChloe fic. Marinette ends up with Chloe’s amok and isn’t sure what to do with it, whether to try to give it to Chloe, whether to try and use it to make Chloe a better person, or whether to just hold onto it secretly. Along the way, she ends up getting into Chloe’s head, getting a better idea of Chloe’s mindset, what she thinks and feels when she does the things she does. I loved seeing her struggle with figuring out what to do, it ended up being a great character study for both Marinette and Chloe!

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Within Your Heart by Inkyibis

It's Valentine's Day and Ladybug just wants to her superhero partner to find his love.

And what she wants, the Lucky Charm will create.

If only she could remember what it is she did last night.

Adrino fic here! Marinette’s drunk and feeling awful that her superhero partner is alone on Valentine’s (she’s in a loving and committed relationship with Alya), so she creates a Lucky Charm to help Chat find love! In this universe, Ladybug’s Lucky Charms have the power to create new rules for the universe to follow, such as making one that demands that if you have any magic in you, you have to tell the truth or else you’ll freeze. Or in Adrien’s case, that he has to wake up in the arms of his true love every day XD. It’s very sweet and I love both Adrien’s and Nino’s relationship, and the relationship between the rest of the Miracuteam members as well, even though that’s not the focus.

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This Distance Between Us by @coffeebanana

After defeating Monarch, the search for the Peacock Miraculous brings Ladybug and Chat Noir to a hotel room in London. But it's hard to enjoy the victory when Ladybug can't figure out why Chat's been so quiet, why he seems so sad. How's she supposed to help if she has no idea what's wrong?

This is a great Sentiadrien fic, with Chat freaking out about it and feeling like he’s not worthy of Ladybug’s affections, but not telling her what’s actually wrong because he thinks she won’t want him anymore if she knows. Of course, he’s wrong about that.

Also there’s a pretty intense confrontation with Felix, pissing Chat Noir off is a bad idea.

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Auspicious by The_Rabbit42

Entry #6 for AU April 2023: Reverse-Crush Kwami-Swap

Adrien is quiet and reserved whenever he's not consumed by stress. And between extracurriculars and modeling and his responsibilities as Mister Bug, he's often stressed. He appreciates his kitten, but he loves his bright and outgoing classmate. Not that she knows that.

Marinette's parents have always allowed her a good deal of independence, but she's felt her confidence skyrocket since getting Plagg. Simply being Lady Noire allows her to be more flirty and free. She likes her friends, but she loves her stoic and heroic partner. Not that he knows that.

This is just a lovely fic that’s exactly what it says on the tin. I like how Rabbit goes into what Lady Noire’s and Mister Bug’s dynamic is like here especially.

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Of Crisp Days and Crispier Cakes by @scribeofrhapsody

Gabriel wants to not be sick. Adrien wants to make a cake. Nathalie wants a chill birthday. Maybe they can help each other. Maybe it'll be a disaster.

So this starts off as just the cute fluff fic of Adrien and Gabriel attempting to make Nathalie a birthday cake that the summary indicates, but soon evolves into a more action-filled drama fic when Gabriel makes the terrible decision to akumatize a cashier while sick... a cashier who happens to be in the same shop as Nathalie and Adrien. Who are willing to put their secret identities at risk in order to save each other.

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After Irritation Do Us Start by @scribeofrhapsody

It was the most difficult decision of his life, but Gabriel did it. He let go of Hawk Moth. He moved on from Emilie. Now, all he wants is to enjoy life with his son and new wife. Unfortunately, a certain nephew of his seems to be determined to unearth what Gabriel needs to remain buried.

I love this look at what could have happened if during the season 3 finale, Gabriel had decided enough was enough and given up on being a supervillain, moving on with Nathalie instead. How much better things could have been if he’d just decided to stop - though Adrien still wouldn’t be happy to discover why Hawk Moth had suddenly stopped attacking.

Oh yeah, there’s an OC here called Gerald who Adrien’s puzzled by, since he’d never heard of this guy before the past year. At the end of the story you find out why he’s included in the story. It’s not a major thing, but it is kind of funny and fits well with the rest of the story.

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Rocking the Cat-Eyes by @buggachat

“I like being a girl.”

“That’s the alcohol talking,” Marinette snorted.

“I’ve always been a li’l jealous,” Adrien admitted.

“... Of what?”

“That you get to be a girl,” Adrien murmured, “and I don’t.”

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When Marinette and Adrien host Girls' Night at their apartment, Adrien is easily welcomed to attend as "one of the girls"... but has a bit too much to drink. Some drunken confessions are spilt, some assumptions are made, and most of all...

Adrien is confused.

This is a great Genderfluid!Adrien fic. Marinette actually figures out that Adrien’s not entirely cis before he does, and tries to let him know she’s supportive... but unfortunately Adrien comes to some incorrect conclusions...

Anyway it’s a lot of fun, and Adrien rocks a dress and makeup!

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Desperation by OuzoAthena11

Marinette is at the end of her rope. There seems to be no hope for defeating Monarch, not now that he has most of the Miraculous and has figured out how to transfer their abilities to others.

Tikki has an idea: Awaken the memories of who Marinette was in the past to see if any of their knowledge across time and the multiverse could help.

But this means that Marinette might forever be changed, and so will Chat Noir, if he should choose to do this.

Little did they know that they knew each other in their past lives, and how frequently they crossed paths and even were a couple... well, that meant that they are soulmates.

Star Wars crossover fic here, with Marinette as Obi-wan and Adrien as Quinlan. I like how the reincarnation aspect was handled here, with Obi-wan’s and Quinlan’s memories being prominent and them “waking up” in a way at first, but those settling back down after a bit and Marinette and Adrien going back to being mostly themselves, but with a lot more life experience under their belts and some cool new abilities - which comes in handy for taking down Monarch!

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Family by @unecoccinellenoire

“You know,” Nino grins, “if you need advice on being a big brother in a year or two I’m sure I could help.”

The bottom of Adrien’s stomach dropped out.

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Adrien struggles with the concept of his father and Nathalie having children.

So this is a world where Adrien and Marinette managed to defeat Gabriel, taking his Miraculous, with them giving him an ultimatum: they won’t out him as being Hawk Moth so long as he doesn’t cause any more trouble and does right by Adrien. Gabriel does, in fact, move on finally to Nathalie, giving Adrien a lot of mixed feelings to deal with. He still loves them both despite everything, but he’s also angry at them and he definitely does NOT want them to have children, both because he thinks they’d like any biological child they had more (he’s also harboring guilt from indirectly being the cause of his mom’s death), and because frankly, they screwed up too much with Adrien for him to want them to inflict that on another child.

And then there’s also Adrien dealing with the realization that he’s a Senti on top of that and wondering why he and Felix look the way they do, what Emilie’s reasons were.

It’s mostly just Adrien getting to talk things out, navigating this emotionally fraught situation he finds himself in now that the dust is settled.

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Galaxy In Your Eyes by @liiinerle

Arriving in Paris, Kagami almost immediately finds herself assaulted by a dark, infectious butterfly. When she wakes up, a ladybug-themed superhero is standing over her, and her eyes are like holes into an empty, vast, and incredibly alluring universe...

An AU where the two main Miraculous function differently from the norm.

Nice Marigami fic here! Or should I say, Ladygami - technically Marinette doesn’t exist, only Ladybug, who’s an immortal creation goddess, or something like that. But she still fights to protect Paris from Hawk Moth alongside Chat Noir, who is still a normal, squishy human underneath the suit.

Anyway, there’s a but of inspiration from Nimona here, with a lot of people being scared of Ladybug because she’s a bit... out there, especially when she shapeshifts to have like, 6 extra arms and a lobster tail. Kagami’s into it though XD

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Stay Weird, Ladybug by @diadraws

Ladybug receives an invitation at the end of a patrol!

Contains some of my own headcanons, most notably: MIRACULOUS HOLDERS ARE CREATURES!!! They get actual animal traits when transformed instead of just a costume. My tumblr is diadraws where I elaborate some more on my headcanons which may add some additional context to this fic if you are interested!

CONTENT WARNINGS: *major* depictions of panic attacks, discussion of child neglect/abuse, and a minor emetophobia (vomiting) warning towards the end.

I’ve loved the comics and fanart I’ve seen dia create for this AU, with Ladybug’s and Chat Noir’s more animalistic designs, so reading a fic set in that AU was a real treat! It’s mostly just a Ladrien sleepover at Adrien’s house, but it’s very nice and cozy, with some good character development of Adrien helping Ladybug with panic attacks she keeps having.

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Trapped by @consistent-chaos-corporation

Felix asks to visit Adrien as soon as his father is gone. Gabriel catches him snooping, looking for Adrien's Amok.

Everything gets worse from there.

Damn, poor Felix. He came to try and help Adrien, but instead Gabriel stole his Amok, forcing him to obey his commands, holding him prisoner in his basement for months. If you want some quality Felix whump, this is the fic for you!

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When Secrets Come Undone by SortaArtsy

Ladybug promised not to tell Adrien... but she never promised not to confide in Cat Noir. What happens when Ladybug unintentionally vents to the one person who wasn't meant to know any of it?

****MAJOR SEASON 5 SPOILERS WARNING! ****

May not be season 6 compliant when it comes out.

This is a “Adrien finds out what everyone’s been keeping from him post-S5″ fic, and I think it’s handled really well! He feels very hurt, betrayed, and disbelieving initially about being a Senti and his father being Monarch (...mostly being a Senti, it ain’t that hard to believe that Gabriel was a supervillain), and is angry at everyone who kept it secret from him, but he still handles it well, going and talking to the people involved, getting their reasoning and perspective.

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Wanted: Catnap by SortaArtsy

Adrien Agreste has barely been sleeping, trying to be everything expected of him. What happens when he spreads himself too thin? Sick!Adrien/ Cat Noir

Adrien’s just pushing himself so hard, trying to do his regular duties, until his illness forces him to rest. I love how concerned everyone is over him - even GABRIEL eventually relents and wants him to rest. It’s just cute and nice and fluffy.

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Felix is Fine by SortaArtsy

Felix wakes up sick, but is determined to keep it under wraps. Kagami refuses to be fooled. Feligami fluff. Implied past trauma/ abuse, though nothing explicit. Set post S5 so there are SOME SPOILERS!

If you want a Felix sick fic, this story’s the fic for you! I like how Felix and Kagami actually talk about why Felix is so determined to keep the extent of his illness hidden, what caused him to feel like he needs to do that, and Kagami’s understanding about it. Colt sucks.

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Our Tales Are Endless (That’s Why I Tell Them) by @joonapeach

Marinette lives a simple life - one surrounded by pretty dresses, fresh macaroons, and the calming view of Paris. It's a life she thinks she has always fit in.

And yet sometimes, when a certain boy comes by her shop with a flower and a new adventurous story, she can't help but wonder if there's something else she's missing.

This was a truly gorgeous story. It’s the classic “Marinette gives up the Miracle Box and loses her memories” storyline, exploring her life two years later. Even though she’s had time to heal and recover, she still feels like she’s missing something, something big. At least Adrien’s stopping by regularly to tell her stories about Ladybug and Chat Noir, even if she doesn’t understand why they resonate with her so well.

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a winter so warm by @rosekasa

winters were hard for even the best of vampires, but at least adrien had marinette to keep him warm with her cuddles.

december was going to suck without her. so it was only to be expected to get extra cuddles in before she left, right?

(well, not really, considering those heating supplements he was taking, but she didn't need to know about that).

This one’s mostly just cute cuddly adorableness! It’s basically like all those “Marinette gets the Ladybug trait of needing to cuddle up to someone for warmth”, but with Adrien instead. And of course featuring Marinette being a very talented witch who just wants to help Adrien stay warm when she isn’t there XD.

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The 8 Weddings of Alix Kubdel by The_Rabbit42

The bet is simple: with the Rabbit Miraculous, Alix will be speaking at all of her friends' weddings. No matter what age they tie the knot, she'll be there looking the same. From Alix's perspective, she's going to each ceremony and reception one right after another in a nonstop bender.

This fic’s a lot of fun! I loved seeing all the different weddings, as well as how Alix slowly felt more and more out of place, with going forwards in time. Some of the weddings could get, uh. Exciting as well XD. And while there’s been years in-between Alix’s appearances for her friends at the wedding, for Alix, it’s only been a few hours, if that...

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and I thought I heard you sing by @into-september

When Hawkmoth has been defeated and unmasked, Marinette is left with two problems and no solutions.

First, that Adrien is further out of her reach than ever before, and no-one can tell her how to get to him.

Second, that Cat Noir is far more troubled than she knew, and the only thing she can do is wait for him at the place they agreed to meet.

It’s your classic “Hawkmoth’s defeated and taken into custody but that means Adrien’s in for a rough time” sort of fic. Everyone’s worried about Adrien and wants to give him what comfort and support that they can, but he’s being hidden away from everyone (which I mean, honestly that’s a good move), so that’s not really possible. Plus, Ladybug’s noticed that Chat’s having a tough time in his civilian life, which worries her.

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Time Locked AU by PumpkinPatchworkQuilt

In Time Locked, instead of just fixing the damage it puts everything post akuma back to exactly how it was, people, buildings, memories, time. Since it’s more extreme than in canon it requires both The Cat and The Ladybug to complete the Cure,(and visually contains both as well). Because of this only those with a miraculous can recall the events and only those who cast the Cure will have any lasting effects from the fight and even then it’s limited to scars, phantom aches, getting a tad more muscle definition and of course spatial displacement in extreme cases.

Since technology is slightly resistant or incompatible with the miraculous magic, footage of right after the akuma attack will survive, on a technicality and as such only reappears when the time catches up the the recorded time, that could be minutes, hours, or days depending on how long it took to defeat the akuma.

First story: Alya’s Guide to Surviving a Magical Terrorist Which You Can’t Remember

In a world where the fight against Hawkmoth is kept secret from the public, one Alya Césaire sets out to bring the whole thing to light, (and possibly win a journalism award while she's at it)

This was an interesting AU, I loved the focus on Alya especially and her investigative abilities, figuring out that there was a battle between good and evil taking place in the background of everyone’s lives even though most signs of it are wiped clean after the battle’s over. And Adrien and Marinette pick up on her cleverness and want her to help! I love how much appreciation this fic shows for Alya.

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Stitched Together by @nedjsmlfavs

Stitch Witch Marinette was just supposed to be having a nice, terrifying outing with her best friends. She never expected to find a magically trapped kitten, but here we are! Whatever happened to this poor little guy?

Poor Adrien, being transformed and chained up for ages, having no idea that he was gonna be rescued. But at least he got to have fun at Marinette’s place as a cat!

Most of this fic is adorable, though with some dark undertones lying in wait. After all, SOMEONE chained up that poor little kitty...

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Love Remains by @kasienda

Marinette stood in the center of her own room. The pink walls were adorned with sketches and photos, and other unfamiliar souvenirs of her life. Her eyes jumped curiously from a hand made purse to a bowler hat decorated with a feather to a cork board covered in pictures of her friends.

She loved her room. Which made sense, she supposed. She had theoretically been the one to decorate it, but she didn’t remember decorating it. And now, the room was like a cave filled with treasure.

Because each little piece of it held a secret - some part of herself that meant something to her, a clue to what her life had been like before…

Before she had woken up in the arms of a boy wearing a magic black catsuit. His heartbroken sobs had caused something in her chest to twist painfully. She hadn’t understood why then, but from that very first moment she knew she had wanted to make things better for him.

She had no idea how to do that now that she understood what she had lost.

Sixteen years worth of memories.

The echoes of which were papered onto the walls and notebooks of her room just waiting to be rediscovered.

No one else seemed to share her excitement.

Unlike most “Marinette loses her memories” fics, this one isn’t super angst for Marinette - she takes it in stride. Now, everyone else, not so much. It’s really interesting seeing her contrast who she appeared to be before with who she is now, particularly when it comes to her previous self being in love with Adrien and not Chat, while she’s in love with Chat and not Adrien. Of course eventually she finds out certain things that makes that make a lot more sense. She isn’t so different from how she was before after all...

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Betrayal by @jennagrinsoverml

MAJOR EPHEMERAL SPOILERS!!

Ladybug planned to use Viperion's power of Second Chance to get Chat's identity to Su-han without Chat knowing or agreeing.

Of course, then the world went crazy, and she didn't go through with it.

But when an akuma exposes Ladybug's plan to Chat, he doesn't know that. He just knows that his Lady betrayed him.

He deals with his feelings in the best, most mature way he can think of.

He disappears.

So I, like a lot of others, wanted more follow-up on Ephemeral, and particularly on the betrayal of trust it was for Marinette to try to trick Chat Noir into giving up his identity to a third party without his knowledge or consent (I wrote my own take on that at the time, called Transcient, that I’m proud of). This fic did a good job of exploring that, with Adrien reacting in a manner that made sense to me (repressing his negative feelings about the situation as much as possible and trying to justify it to himself, but still feeling terrible despite his own best efforts), and how Marinette realized that she messed up, since Luka keeping it secret that he knows hers and Chat’s secret identities caused her to be upset as well. It did a great job of exploring those negative feelings and letting everyone talk things out, explain their viewpoints, and rebuild their relationships afterwards, which is something I really value.

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Swimming in Circles by @generalluxun

Life has moved on for Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She's not where she thought she would be seven years ago, but she's still in a good place. Classes, hobbies, friends, her life is full despite the lingering shades of her faded yet sweet middle-school romance. Then just as quick at the first time, someone drops into her life and turns her into an absolute mess once more.

Love and crushes might be her undoing, but she's got a little more experience this time to weather the storm. This fateful stranger stirs memories as well as emotions inside of her, and with a forthrightness her old self would be jealous of, Marinette takes the plunge.

So this is a Trans fic, with Marinette’s new crush being a trans version of a certain classmate who she doesn’t recognize, who’s changed a lot, for the better. I like how it deals with the baggage she has with that person, has her think that through.

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Three’s company by @torvalvt

Kagami has been doing her best for years to ignore her feelings for her friends. It doesn't help that Adrien and Marinette insist on spending as much time as possible with her, even going so far as inviting her along on their dates together. If only the affection she felt for them wouldn't get in the way of their relationship. Because it is growing harder and harder to tamp down her feelings with how close they are getting to her.

This is adorable. Adrien and Marinette really want Kagami to join their relationship and she just doesn’t dare hope for it. If you want some adorable Adrigaminette from Kagami’s perspective, I recommend checking this fic out!

#ml fanfic rec #miraculous ladybug

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insomniac-101 · 1 year

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Rose Tyler Character Analysis

Ah so Rose Tyler.

Rose " you like my gun?" Tyler who arguably, is one of the most important characters of the RTD era. A character so influential, that the narrative takes the time to mourn her absence and was single handedly responsible for bringing the series back from the dead.

She's so controversial. You either really love her or hate her, and I think that in itself is a testament to how well she is written. Because she left an impact, and that's not an easy thing to do in a series that has been around for so long

With that in mind though, I find that she is also the character that most people tend to misinterpret a lot. Often framing her in a bad light, rather than with the nuance required to understand her.

That being said I'm about to analyze the shit out of her character as well as some of her main relationships so if you love her, great I do too! Let's be friends! And if you don't, that's a shame but hopefully the way I interpret her journey will help you better understand why others do:)

I must stress that this is my interpretation but feel free to let me know if you saw a scene differently than me! Love reading alternate interpretations, me

Rose Marion Tyler is introduced to us in the first season of Nuwho as an ordinary girl. She has a job, a boyfriend, and a mother but from the way we are introduced to these facets of her life, we get the impression that she isn't necessarily someone that seeks to have anything more. She fits right in with said life and from an outside perspective, one can even argue that she seems content with it.

However it's in the moment where we see her come face to face with the impossible, that we really see who she is as a person.

When confronted with a group of living mannequins that slowly creep towards her , alone I must add, her reaction is one that is quite strange. Here she is, looking to fulfill a task in a completely dodgy and empty area below her workplace and when she sees something odd, she doesn't show fear. She doesn't scream, no on the contrary, she begins to try to rationalize what is happening in a manner that makes sense to her. Never one to assume danger, even when it is painfully obvious that there might be something strange happening.

That is when she meets the Doctor. A man unfamiliar and strange that saves her life right before she too succumbs to the threat. Thus, treating us to our first glimpse into the dynamic between our two leads.

She is visibly put off. Perhaps a little afraid but she asserts that the incident was nothing more than a prank. Something harmless and silly, even though it is quite obvious to us that that is not the case. It's this manner of viewing the incident that catches his attention however.

"Very clever, nice trick. Who are they then, students? Is this a student thing or what?"

"Why would they be students?"

"I don't know!"

"Well you said it, why students?"

"Cause to get that many people dressed up and being silly, they got to be students"

I find this interaction so interesting because it says a lot about her perspective. She doesn't assume the mob meant any harm. In fact, she goes out of her way to make up an even more incredulous scenario to justify their innocence, even when it is obvious that that is not the case.

It shows nativity, but there's an underlying level of optimism there as well.

It is here where she finds out that Wilson is dead, and we see her react with concern. But notice, she doesn't assume he had anything to do with it.

Rather it's his tone that rubs her the wrong way, and she confronts the Doctor. Chastising him about joking about something so awful and even when he interrupts, she doesn't stop her pursuit for an explanation.

She is on the move right behind him, asking more questions that only seem to have more confusing answers. Following in spite of how absolutely bat shit his explanations are.

In this brief interaction, we see some of the most crucial aspects of her character. Her bravery, curiosity, and stubborn nature that allow her to remain by his side, long enough that he has to physically stop her and tell her to go home.

It is this blatant show of her character that prompts him to ask for her name.

Because here she is, confronted with the impossible yet she doesn't just stand to the side in shock. No, instead she chooses to engage with the Doctor. Trying to find a reason for what is happening, or in other words, a solution even if it's at the expense of her own well-being.

It's when we see her recovering at home, that the initial veil of an ordinary and perfect life is uncovered. Jackie is too busy on the phone to really offer any emotional support to her daughter. Gossiping on the phone about the incident, and in the minute a break presents itself, she uses that time to criticize her for not taking advantage of the situation.

I must stress that this interaction isn't included to say that Jackie is a horrible mother, quite the opposite, but she is human. RTD goes to show you that no one is perfect. That even the most well intended individual is flawed, and that everyone has their strengths and weaknesses. This is important to keep in mind when analyzing the relationships between the characters.

Even though Jackie doesn't show her support through words, she still takes the time to give her tea as she is sitting. She is doing the best she can under the circumstances in which she's in. She's conscious that their financial situation isn't ideal, and so by telling her that she should have asked for compensation, this is not to show that she is greedy, but rather it's her way of showing that she cares. That at the very least, her daughter can secure herself some money for experiencing the traumatic incident.

It shows that she's a realist, someone who views the world through a cynical lens and prioritizes survival above all else.

Similarly we meet Mickey, and he is a bit more emotional to an exaggerated degree. Showing physically that he cares with a hug and going out of his way to fuss and dote over her, but this overblown affection seems to make her uncomfortable. As if to show that she doesn't like being the center of attention, and that they are making her feel helpless at the expense of their concern.

Understanding her need for a distraction, he offers to take her to the pub but it's not long before she catches on to his true intentions. Granted he does appear to be genuine in his goal, but it's not an activity she would enjoy and so she tells him to just go alone.

Now similar to the previous point I made about the characters being flawed, that applies here too. The relationship she has with Mickey is not perfect. Mickey is trying to play the role of a perfect boyfriend. He is showering her in love and support, but we quickly see that his motivations are not completely selfless. That really that overblown affection he is showing at the moment, is an act. We see this happen again later when he tries to put on this front that he's her protector in front of Clive, but she shuts that down too. Not because she doesn't love him or appreciate the concern, but because it's not him, and this front he puts on sometimes results in him ignoring what she actually needs.

He assumes he knows what's best for her without taking into account that she might not agree. It's only when he shows that playful nature we saw earlier in the intro that Rose seems responsive to him. As if to show that it's when he's acting like himself, that she appreciates his company. Because what she needs at the moment is not for them to dictate what she should do, she just needs them to respect her decision to move on.

When he leaves, we finally see that the comfort she derives from him is really from the friendly banter they have. At the core of their relationship, is a friendship.

I find that way too many people tend to assume that everything Mickey does comes from a place of ill intent, and that is just not true. He's a person, and he too has his own motivations and emotions that may not always align with those around him. That doesn't make him a bad partner, just a flawed one.

When she wakes up, we see that yet again, she is subjected to more fussing from her mother but it is in this interaction that something interesting about Jackie is revealed.

Jackie claims that her prior job at the mall was giving her "airs and graces" and this is something she tends to bring up later too, when she feels herself becoming more distant from her daughter.

This is a reflection of Jackie's own insecurities, not Rose's actual attitude.

Whenever she sees Rose find a piece of the world to call her own, she tends to put it down. Not because she hates seeing her succeed, but because she fears that once she finds something better she'll leave her behind. That she will have to experience loss once more, at the expense of her daughter rather than her husband all that long ago.

Now this is an assumption that on her part, I'd argue, is a bit unfair given that Rose doesn't ever really show to resent where she comes from. (in Tooth and Claw, she is even named "Dame Rose of the Powell Estate". Which shows that she is not really one to shy away from her background) Nor does she believe herself to be better than anyone, but Jackie uses it often because she knows it elicits a reaction out of her. She's grown so used to having her around, that now she can't fathom living without her and resorts to hurting her as a means of keeping her close.

It's an attachment to her daughter that at times, can prove to be stunting to Rose's development but ties back to the long lasting grief she feels at losing Pete. Again this is not an intentional thing she does, but it is a flaw that exists and shows up when they butt heads.

(I stress this point because I've noticed that this Era of Doctor who in particular has many instances where characters declare something, only for it to be a false conclusion. It's vital that one considers not only the words, but the actions of said characters. To read into their words, rather than to take it a face value. I will be doing a lot of that here, case in point)

Rose often has to put up boundaries with Jackie. Not because she doesn't love her, but because the extent of her love and attachment can be overbearing to the point that it interferes with her life. They have survived so long by functioning as a unit, but now it's time for Rose to prioritize her own feelings and that in turn scares Jackie.

I must stress that Rose is still so young, only 19. For her to have the maturity to know how to handle her mother as well as handle the household (we see her fussing over the cat flap, demonstrating that she is constantly aware of the circumstances they live in) shows that she had to grow up fast. Being constantly aware of adult concepts such as finances and the death of a parent from a young age, tends to do that to a kid.

Now skip ahead to when nine stumbles upon her home, and she manhandles him inside lol. She takes control of the situation, offers him a cup of tea and asks him to accompany her to the police station so that they can both handle the situation.

I must stress, once again, that she has no reason to assume he's a good person. For all she knows, he could have purposefully caused the explosion to kill them all. But no, she assumes that he was just a victim like herself and aims to bring closure to the incident.

Rose is someone that assumes the best in people. We see this time and time again with how she interacts with those around her. When she is talking about the body that was found, she assumes it's Wilson and talks about how sorry she is that it happened to him and that he was a nice bloke (even though her face tells the opposite lol).

She is kind. It's in her nature to care for and care about others. It's because of this that she is able to get through to the Doctor when he tries to leave again.

So she insists that he tell her what's going on, and continues to pursue him while making conversation. At one point he asks if she believes him and she admits that she doesn't, but nonetheless she continues listening.

A kind act she then does for Clive, which suggests that the reason why she stays is because she recognizes that everyone wants to be heard. That to be acknowledged, means to finally feel validated. Something that seems to be absent from her life, given how often both Mickey and Jackie tend to dominate conversations regarding her decisions.

She gives him the space to joke around, to add levity to the discussion but the moment he confesses that he is alone she stops it.

Because she is concerned now. He, a complete stranger yet she offers him the patience to go at his own pace. All while, she is firm in her pursuit for an answer but not at the expense of upsetting him.

This is why they work.

She has the emotional intelligence that he lacks. She challenges him by offering a perspective that completely goes against his own. And when he's being insensitive or too focused on the big picture of things, she is able to put him in his place. Reel him back in and set him straight again.

(I did a more in depth analysis on the 9th doctor here if you're interested!)

It isn't until after she leaves Clive that we see her actually start to reconsider the direction that her life is going in. Because now more than ever, she realizes just how narrow her perception of the world really is. How insignificant her life is, in the grand scope of the universe.

She reminisces, talking about how she could go back to school now that she has the extra time to spend. Another decision, mind, that was done on behalf of someone else and she is starting to regret.

She asks for Mickey's opinion but him not actually being him, isn't able to give his input and changes the subject.

"I'm sorry, was I talking about me for a second?"

Her offense is something that stands out to me, however.

Based on prior interactions, one can come to the conclusion that Rose is not as open as she appears to be at first glance. When Mickey attempted to appease her by offering her the space to talk about the explosion, she shut him down and later on refused to include him in her meeting with Clive. She even went as far as to lie about her prior involvement with the Doctor to her mother. Which in turn suggests that it's not often that she has aspects of her life that are solely hers and so, when she finds something, she keeps it to herself.

This could be due to a number of reasons, but I suspect it is because of the company she keeps around.

Her mother criticizes her job and asks her to change it, and Mickey dissuades her decision to go looking for Clive. She keeps things close to her chest because she's aware that the people in her life won't often support them.

Then the Doctor interrupts, and Mickey is revealed to be a clone. Panic arises but her being the selfless person she is, presses the fire alarm as a means of ensuring that more people won't get hurt. This also shows one of her biggest strengths as a character, she is incredibly clever. Even though she dropped out of school at a young age, she has a knack for finding solutions with very little resources. She's sharp and has a level headed approach that makes her perfect for a crisis.

It also shows that she has a habit of putting others before herself, because before Mickey even attacked, she was already standing next to the button.

Her compassion, bravery, and quick thinking are what ultimately drive her to save the Doctor's life. Because I'm spite of being in trouble himself, he pleads that she save herself at the price of his own life. Proving to her, that he is not responsible for the death follows him. And in turn she realizes that the life she is living is truly stunting her, because it's her putting faith into her own capabilities that allows her to save him.

That she, just like the Doctor, is capable of doing something beyond what she thought was out of her reach.

That she is free to live a life not constrained by the ordinary.

Now I'll skip ahead to the big decision; the one that seals her fate as his companion and a decision I often see people misunderstand. The decision to stay with the Doctor is not one that comes easily. Her initial rejection of his request is one that displays her hesitance.

Note that it is not because she doesn't want to, that much is evident from the way she's gazing longingly at the Tardis. But because Mickey's pleading is getting to her. He is latching onto her, metaphorically and literally; not taking the time to consider how she might feel about the opportunity.

He does not trust that she knows what's best, which is made evident in the way he often doubts her.

Up until now Rose has been someone that puts everyone above herself when it comes to making decisions. She has to consider their feelings, to the point that she feels the need to hide things from them.

Her mother.

Mickey.

And now she's going to let them snub out that little spark she just discovered she has.

It's because of this that she thanks Mickey before she leaves. Because it's his helplessness that helps her realize how fit for a life of thrills she is. While he was cowering, she in turn was thriving in the danger.

Him doing nothing but clinging to her, made her realize that she is capable of doing so much more than what she could do at his side. That she has the potential to save many lives and make a difference in the world.

So she leaves.

She is not angry at him when she does, quite the opposite, it's him being true to himself in a crisis that puts things into perspective.

The next episode makes her confront the reality of the path she has chosen.

He takes her to the end of the world and she realizes that her role is not to stop the inevitable. The Doctor is not someone that is responsible for preventing bad things from occurring, no, he is a witness to them just like she is.

This confession comes with the loaded realization that not every adventure will end happily. That death is not something that can be avoided and that the Doctor is not a hero. This shows her naivety, and through this adventure, she begins to lose some of it.

She freaks out at seeing the "relics" of the human race. All things she is familiar with, yet, it comes with the startling realization that everyone is dead.

That she is the last of her kind alive.

So she runs.

In spite of it all being such a shock to her, however, she still has the ability to reach out to someone. Finding comfort in talking to an alien by the name of Rufalo, and asking for her name and background. Extending kindness to someone that she doesn't have to, because it in turn brings her happiness. It shows she is someone that cares for others, regardless of what they look like. That at her core, she is kind and considerate.

One of my favorite scenes that perfectly demonstrates this point is an underrated scene where she talks to a plant. She previously observed that one of the aliens that initially greeted her is a tree descendant that gifts her a piece of her grandfather, and she addresses it shyly.

"Hello, my name's Rose, that's a sort of plant. We might be related..I'm talking to a twig."

It's played for laughs but it demonstrates that her ability to want to understand others comes from a place of wanting to relate to them. She talks to the tree with respect and views it as an equal before realizing that it's just that, a twig.

When the Doctor finds her and begins to appease her by making jokes at the expense of the aliens, she once again surprises him with her reaction.

She gets offended.

All on behalf of the deep south aliens that cannot defend themselves in the current moment from his scrutiny, because she is able to humanize them. To see them as people, in spite of the obvious differences they may have.

This suggests that Rose's first instinct when out of her element, is to try to understand and sympathize.

That way of being, is what causes her to turn her questions on him.

Why he is so quick to judge others.

Why he is able to maintain that sense of levity as he sees the world burn.

And why he seems so touchy about his background.

Something that I wish to add, because we have an instance of this happening in this episode, is that her need to understand others might be rooted in the perception others seem to have of her. People tend to diminish her value because of how she looks. In this episode, Jabe, the tree lady presumes that Rose is the doctor's concubine or even a prostitute. This is why she gets offended and tells them both off.

(This happens a lot more than I realized on my first watch, and a lot of people write it off as her being jealous when that's not the case. That isn’t to say that she doesn’t display some jealousy at times, but it genuinely does not occur as often as people claim it does)

This is also why Cassandra gets under her skin so much. Because she presumes that Rose is inferior and looks down on others but that alone is not enough to justify her being killed. She makes that clear when she pleads for the Doctor to save her.

We also get some insight on why her dad's death left such an impact on her. It's brief but while watching the earth melt away, she says this:

"it's gone, we're too busy saving ourselves no one saw it go. All those years, all that history and nobody was even looking."

Even though she didn't know him personally, the fact that he died alone is something that deeply troubles her. To anyone else he was just a man, yet to her and her mother he was a father, someone that was meant to be a part of her life. He should have had someone there, just like how the earth deserved to be remembered in its final moments by those who personally lived in it. To die without anyone you care for acknowledging your importance must be haunting.

The reason why she stays with the Doctor is for the same reason why the tragedy of her father's death deeply affected her, she doesn't want him to be alone. Loneliness can be so terrible. Had it not been for the Doctor being with her, she would have felt overwhelmed by the weight of the world's end. It's having him there that made the pain bearable. She understands this, and so, she takes it upon herself to be the person he has to look his way. To be the hand he has to hold when everything becomes too much.

But the question remains, to what extents is she willing to go to ensure that he will be okay?

Gradually we see Rose become more confident in her ability to command and reason. She no longer hesitates to step in and offer her perspective, all while she continues to extend her kindness to others. This at times, clashes with the Doctor's own priorities but nonetheless his exposure to her has an effect.

It is in the episode Dalek however, where that kindness takes on a new form, a merciful killing. Up until now Rose has been the one to tell the Doctor to give the perpetrators a second chance. To see the good in others even when it's difficult.

But now this creature that has killed many, is changing. It's growing aware, disturbed, and it's all because of her. She stops the doctor from killing it, but now the creature wants to die. It does not want to become like her. It does not want to become so human that it becomes aware of all it's done and how lonely it is.

For the first time, she is made to confront that her kindness might have just condemned someone to a more miserable end. That humanity is not something that every creature strives for, and that at times the kind decision comes with a price.

So she does what it asks, and orders it to die. Saving the Doctor from sullying his hands with more blood but at the price of her own becoming unclean. Are these the depths to which she would go to ensure the Doctor's wellbeing?

The next two episodes explore what happens when Rose underestimates her ability to make mistakes.

She's become more confident, taking along Adam to their next adventure because she believes she has a good judge of character. Plus he’s kind of pretty, so that’s a plus for her lol

She wants to be the impressive one now and share that wonder for the universe with someone else. To see what it looks like from the perspective of a new pair of eyes, because to her it has all become kind of normal.

The price of understanding the Doctor more, is that it comes at the price of her humanity. She will no longer be able to sustain her naivety towards how cruel the world can be. It will become harder to judge when she is viewing things in a rational human way, or through the eyes of someone that has grown desensitized to the chaos.

In retrospect, I don't think it's a coincidence she is wearing red here. She has now witnessed a death at her hands, and she is trying to regain control. To remember what it's like to view the world through the eyes of someone normal like Adam.

With time, she will grow to be a stranger amongst other humans. She will have a harder time relating to others because her understanding of the world far surpasses there’s.

Oh but Adam is not like her. Because she assumes everyone is well intentioned, she fails to realize that he might hold ulterior motives. When he fails her, she realizes that she is also capable of making a bad call. That the Doctor is holding her to a standard and if she makes a mistake like Adam, she too can be left behind.

Father's day is where we finally see her make a misstep and it's one hell of a problem. Her initial goal was to be there for her father and comfort him in his final moments, but she realizes quickly that seeing it is far more disturbing than she had initially anticipated.

He's her father. Seeing him die once is bad enough, but twice? All while fully aware that she can easily prevent it? It's a temptation that is far too great to pass up. But quickly she realizes her mistake and she can't think rationally, she is far too emotional to reason with.

"but he's alive,"

"my entire planet died, my whole family. Do you think it never occurred to me to go back and save them?"

"but it's not like I've changed history, not much. I mean he's never gonna be a world leader. He's not gonna start world war 3 or anything"

"Rose there's a man alive in the world who wasn't alive before. An ordinary man. That's the most important thing in creation."

She overestimated what she understood about travelling in time. She realizes this, but her pride will not let her stand down. She wrongly uses his loneliness as a means of keeping him there, knowing that he would never actually leave her but alas he does. In doing so, granting her a once in a lifetime chance to get to know her father personally.

With this opportunity comes the realization that her father was not the man her mother told her about.

Not successful nor heroic, but flawed like any other man.

She finds out that he and Jackie had a strained relationship, nothing like the perfect relationship her mother described. That he had had an affair and that they were not on the best terms when he died. Really, her mother was protecting her from the reality of the situation. All for the sake of giving her a father figure that would not disappoint her, even in death.

But on the flip side, she is also able to know the best parts of him. Now she has a reference of who he was at his best as well. She is able to have him recognize her as his daughter and when he realizes the extent of her mistake, he takes on the responsibility to right her wrong. So that his blood is not on her hands, and so that she will remember him as the proper father he would have been after he’s gone.

Note that he does this for her, not because she wouldn't have eventually asked it of him, but because he doesn't want the guilt of his second death to be on her.

She apologizes of course, to the Doctor but not before he does the same. It is in this moment, that she realizes how much she means to him and in turn, how much he means to her.

When viewing this scene, once should keep in mind that the episode draws many parallels between the Doctor and her father. At one point, it states that she considers the Doctor to be the most important man in her life. so when her father comes along, in misplaced anger she asserts that the Doctor did not want her father to live because it would threaten his importance to her.

The reason why I draw attention to this detail is because I believe this is the episode where she realizes she loves the Doctor romantically.

When her father touches her face as he recognises her as his daughter, she nestles into it like a little kid seeking comfort from a parent. Now that she knows what it feels like to have a proper father, she has a better understanding of what that kind of love feels like.

So when the Doctor does the same thing, she stares deeply into his eyes as if just realizing what he means to her. Her reaction to him is almost shy and stiff, very unlike her usual temperament.

I think this is the moment she realizes her feelings for the Doctor are not that of her trying to fill a void her father left, but of a different origin entirely. The reason I say this is because these two scenes, mirror each other down to the camera angle. With both shots, focusing on her reaction to the touch.

I don’t think it is a coincidence that earlier in the episode, she gets mad when her father assumes the Doctor is her boyfriend. She even expresses confusion on why people think they’re together, which wouldn’t really make much sense if she had felt romantic attraction to him prior to this moment.

This isn't to say that she purposefully projected such an image onto the Doctor, not at all. But I think it's this experience that finally gives a name to what she was feeling for him all along. Something that started off as platonic but eventually morphed into romantic love.

(I can’t believe that I just claimed Rose might have daddy issues but here it is. On the bright side though, this goes to prove that the Doctor fell for her first so do as you wish with that assertion lol)

Then Jack appears and finally, their attraction for one another becomes obvious to everyone but one another lol. This is where the whole dancing scene happens and I think you all know what they meant lol I don't have to make an in depth analysis about it.

(But how curious that she suddenly starts being more blatant with her flirting, after Father’s Day? Just sayinnng)

I must stress now, because this will become critical later on, that Rose is naturally very flirty and touchy. She's like that with most people it seems, but she never really means anything by it. When Jack appears, she finds him attractive but when he starts getting too close she begins to feel uncomfortable.

She even stops his advances at one point. She likes being liked, even plays into it, but she never acts on her attraction. It's a flaw of hers in the same way the 10th doctor likes being chased by beautiful women, but she's never unfaithful.

Okay so I'm going to say something really radical here, but Boomtown is when Rose and Mickey breakup. For good. Personally, I am not of the belief that they were together in season 2.

The reason why I say this is because the moment Mickey and Rose are left alone, all she can do is recount stories about the Doctor and how great their adventures are. It is here where we see what was pointed out to us previously: that she would eventually outgrow the outlook of those around her. She is no longer the Rose he knew, or fell for. She has grown more confident, happier, and can no longer relate to him.

In other words, she has outgrown him.

It’s here where Mickey tells her that he is seeing someone else.

Rose does become a little jealous here, making a comment about the girl's weight, but she quickly realizes it's not appropriate and takes it back. Instead, commenting that she's a nice girl.

Now remember how I mentioned that at the core of their romantic relationship was a friendship, we see that here more than ever.

When he suggests they find a hotel, she reminds him that he has someone and then questions why he is even with Trisha if she’s not the girl he usually goes for. (They grew up together, so it makes sense why she would know what his type is). This doesn't seem as if she's asking because she's jealous but because she's confused on why he's settling for someone.

She is concerned for his wellbeing.

To which he admits he is and that he can't move on because he is still in love with her. When he asks if he wants him to wait for her, she can't answer. Not because she is unsure of her answer, but because she knows what it is. Her heart is no longer his.

Her running at the sound of trouble and refusing to answer is the answer. It will never be him. She cannot promise him something that just isn't what she feels anymore. Him yelling that “of course it will always be the Doctor”, is him confirming it. That what they had, has ended.

This is the moment they break up. Her seeking him out afterwards is not her trying to mend the romantic relationship they had, but the friendship.

But it is too late.

When she returns after the Slitheen crisis ends, he is no longer there. He will not wait for her anymore and when asked about his whereabouts, she concedes that he will not join them when they leave because he deserves better.

This is her acknowledging that she did wrong in having him wait. She cries because it ended in such a heartbreaking way, but not because it is no more.

She realizes she hurt him, and this guilt follow her into season 2.

The reason why I am so confident on this is because they’re never really all that affectionate after this. Yes they hold hands and hug, but that’s something she did with the Doctor long before they were together. They never share a kiss, and the only one that ever refers to their relationship as something more, is the Doctor.

(Who I must add, has his own motivations for doing so. Mainly out of jealousy, and because it creates a barrier between the Doctor and Rose's relationship. I swear, you can't trust these people lol)

That's why her attachment to him never really presents itself as an issue later. Weeell not until the Doctor inserts him as a means of putting a wedge between the two of them. But I am getting ahead of myself here.

Skipping to the final episode, Rose is tricked into leaving the Doctor and she is left to confront what life without him is like.

This is the girl who, at the thought of her father dying alone, almost broke the universe to grant him some companionship in his final moments.

He is dying out there, somewhere she can't reach.

And in the meantime, she waits helplessly as the man she loves is trapped in the future, unable to do anything but mourn him.

For the first time, we are confronted with a version of Rose that is devoid of any hope. A sight so unfamiliar to both Mickey and Jackie, that they don’t know what to do or say to make it better.

That does not stop them from trying, however.

It's here that Jackie is able to admit that she admires him for doing what he did. This confession is a big deal because it highlights the beginning of a major change in perspective for her.

The reason why Jackie and the Doctor’s relationship is so strained to begin with, is because she feared that he would be the catalyst to Rose’s eventual departure. She projected her insecurities onto him, often portraying him as the type to endanger her daughter on purpose and the reason why her life was such chaos. Yet, in this moment she concedes that she was wrong, that the Doctor is more noble than she had initially given him credit for.

He's not selfish like she initially presumed, but selfless; choosing to prioritize her safety, over his own loneliness.

When Rose questions what she is expected to do now, Mickey is offended. He cannot understand the extent of her feelings, so he resorts to the defensive. Claiming that she must a sense of superiority if she thinks she is not capable of assuming a normal life like anyone else. But just as was shown before, both him and Jackie are very flawed people. They have their agendas and so they impose what they think is best onto her, without considering their own biases.

Because they care, they assume rather than listen ... but she's no longer the same Rose.

She is different.

No longer naive and no longer fit to live a life that doesn't have him in it. Not solely out of love, but because she felt she was at her best there.

"it was a better life, I don't mean all the traveling and... Seeing aliens and spaceships and things, that don't matter. The Doctor showed me a better way of living your life."

She criticizes Mickey for assuming the worst of her in that moment, as he has seen first hand the change she went through. That's why they broke up after all, because that change made her harder to hold onto.

With that change however, is the realization that living a normal life would mean to throw away all the growth she went through.

To abandon her new sense of purpose, and lose that part of herself that refused to give up. The side of her that held onto hope, in spite of all odds being against her.

And finally, to give up would mean to lose the Doctor: the man that believed in her and never stopped.

When she says there's nothing left for her there, on earth, she means it. She would rather die than live a life without him in it.

She's an emotional wreck at the thought of losing him but other than it just being a statement said in the heat of the moment, I find that she might also have a point.

Sure it's harsh, I won't deny it but really other than her mother, what is there to keep her there?

Everyone, even ordinary people, leave home eventually. That is just reality. Her mother is there, yes, but one day she will die. Rose will be all that’s left, because not even Mickey will measure up to the Doctor and it is unfair to expect him to fill his place.

She will be expected to live a life where not even one person understands her and in the process, forget the part of herself that she grew to love.

What they're asking of her is to give up on the part of the world that she has made her own. To hide the spark that made her into who she is, because that's how much the experience has become a part of her identity as a person.

It's selfish, but doesn't that apply to everyone? Who's happiness has not come at the expense of other people? By asking her to give up her life with the Doctor, are they not doing the same to her?

The reason why knowing that she met her father seemingly changes Jackie's mind is because the revelation is a confirmation that Rose has grown up. Her distress is not out of a naive love that Rose holds towards the Doctor, no, she is aware of the implications of what she is saying.

The reason why Jackie never told her the truth about her father is because at the time, she was a little girl who could not understand that her dad was not a perfect man. She meant to protect her innocence, even if it came at the expense of the truth.

But she realizes then, that she is not that little girl anymore. That before her stands a young woman, who no longer needs her protection. One who has accomplished impossible feats on her own merit, and grew not because of her, but in spite of her.

So when Rose tells her that she has found her place in the world, she means it.

Not to mention, the Doctor was able to give her a sense of comfort that not even she could give her. Granting her a sense of closure and thus cementing just how incredible of a life she is leaving behind.

Jackie’s own fear of abandonment, is not enough to blind her to how important of a task this is to Rose.

This is why they help her in spite of it potentially meaning her death. Because to ask her to leave it all behind without trying, would be the equivalent of killing her. The version of herself that was forged from the experiences aboard the Tardis.

Season 2 is effectively what occurs when the reality of falling for a man indebted to the universe, starts to settle in.

His regeneration makes her confront the fact that he is unlike any human man. That the rules that define human relationships, will not apply to their own. With that in mind, she seemingly loses her footing amidst the chaotic revelation.

She struggles to take control of the alien invasion, not because she doesn't know how, but because everything she knew to be true has changed. The foundation of all she stood for, has been broken and she has no idea what her place in all of it is.

When she realizes that he is still him, her acceptance comes with the acknowledgment that their circumstances have changed. That she will have to accept those alien aspects of himself, and redefine her prior assertions of what a life with him would mean in the long run. Because now more than ever, the love between the two of them is stronger than ever. But neither is willing to sacrifice the greater good for it.

Something I need people to understand is that the reason why their relationship doesn't become anything more than a friendship, until Tentoo, is because both are aware that his duty is something he can't abandon. It's a conscious decision on both their parts, not just on Tens.

We see this time and time again when Ten is made to confront the possibility of her death. She is not immune to the misfortune of the world and she knows this. But just because she's aware of this, doesn't mean that she lets it stunt the enjoyment of her life.

This is where their perspectives drastically differ. On one hand you have ten who recognizes that he is not human. The world is cruel and to give in to his love for her would mean losing her eventually. This is why after he is confronted with Sarah Jane, he can't bring himself to describe why she is different.

Why she is his exception.

So he brings along Mickey to act as a buffer. This is why Rose seemingly disagrees with his idea to bring him along. Her and Mickey are just friends. He still has feelings for Rose, she knows, and to involve him is to give him the impression that he still has a chance. Again, it's not out of jealousy. If it were, she wouldn’t have been so keen on bringing along Sarah Jane Smith after this adventure or Mickey in season 1.

At the price of his comfort, he cruelly doesn’t consider Mickey’s perspective.

She makes this clear later on when he asks why he was tempted to explore Pete’s world.

“Mickey’s mum just couldn’t cope. His dad hung around for a while, but then just sort of wandered off.He was brought up by his gran. She was such a great woman. God, she used to slap him! But then she died. She tripped and fell down the stairs. It’s about five years ago now. I was still in school.”

“I never knew”

“Well, you never asked.”

“You never said.”

It is his inability, ironically, to not think beyond his best interests that has a tendency to hurt those around him.

The funny thing is, the episode where she is supposed to act jealous and petty is actually the episode where we explore why Rose is such a great match for the Doctor. Because even though Madame de Pompadour belittles her importance to the Doctor and seems to be the main focus of his affectons, Rose still does what she can to save her.

This is who she is.

Yes, she can be emotional at times but when it really matters, she can put those feelings aside to do what is right. This is something that we see develop in her since season 1. It shows that she is aware of the duty the Doctor has to protect time itself, and it's here that we see her take an active part in it herself.

When Mickey taunts her out of jealousy of their relationship, asserting that the Doctor's intentions are not as pure as she thinks they are, she is quick to defend him. Because she understands that he is not someone that intentionally hurts others. No, he is flawed and his duties are too important to be held to a human standard.

That isn't to say that she is immune to falling victim to the same dark assumptions.

(We see this plainly in the prior episode too, where Mickey's taunts begin to get to her and she assumes the Doctor doesn't value his companions)

It hurts her. You can see that, in the way that she stares longingly into the distance. Coming to terms with the implication of having been left behind, and her role in his life. She will never be his priority. Not when he is the only one left, to ensure that the world won’t plummet in the absence of his own people.

It is this reasoning that allows her to look beyond herself and reach out to him when he is grieving the loss of Reinette. To ask him if he’s alright, even if its at the cost of her own feelings.

“I’m always alright.”

It is here that she realizes how much he is holding back. How much the constant death is weighing over him. And so, she gives him the space he needs in the meantime. Displaying that strength she has, at the cost of seeing the Doctor at his weakest.

I think this is why in the next episode, when they are trapped in an alternate universe, Ten is seemingly afraid that he might lose her. I mean, to an extent that seems almost overblown but, it makes sense if one infers it's because of how he acted in the prior episode.

Not only because he seemingly put a wedge between the two of them, but also because more than ever she is aware that his duty is to the universe and not to her. He realizes the extent to which he has taken her love and loyalty for granted.

How more than ever she is aware that whatever is between the two of them, will never be.

(Personally I see this as his punishment for being so careless in his actions in the prior episodes. Till this day, I still can't watch that episode without feeling so bad for Rose)

His fear is a reflection of his own insecurity: that alien side of him that is incapable of understanding why Rose would choose him above all else.

Rose is not one that would ever hold it against him, however. For the sake of blaming himself, he underestimates the depths of her awareness to the situation they're both in.

She loves him unconditionally. She doesn't expect him to drop his duty. No, more than ever she is aware of the toll it takes on him, from a second hand perspective.

This is why in Doomsday when Jackie criticizes her for becoming too alien, and for not settling down, she stresses that she will never have a normal life because the Doctor never will. It was never the traveling that made her stay, it was him. The thought of him facing the world alone, to revert back into a miserable version of himself because he has no one to ground him, is a reality she can't live with.

(not to mention, her becoming too desensitized to the life she lives is a problem that can be traced back to season 1 as well. Showing that this is very much a real thing that can happen if she doesn't maintain something that grounds her to the human world)

So she takes it upon herself to be there for him when he hasn't asked. This is incredibly selfless and consistent to her character since season 1.

So when she seeks out Pete, she's not really doing it with the intention of staying. She's curious to see who her father is in a universe where he seemingly lives. Because to her, he is her father regardless of whether or not the body he is in is the original. This universe's versions of the people in her life does not make them any less valid simply because they're slightly different, at the core of them is the people she loves.

In every universe is a version of the person she loves that when prompted, will save her. This is seen in how it's seemingly these two versions of her parents that do something to help her even at their own expense. With this Pete, being the one to save her before she gets sucked into the void and this Jackie, being the one to save them both from an immediate conversion

(Hint hint, this is the attitude that prompts her to accept Tentoo and it's also a big part of her journey in the Rose Tyler dimension cannon audios.)

This is also the episode where her friendship with Mickey essentially ends for the time being. Seeing how much the Doctor and Rose have grown to love one another gives him the courage to leave. To find that part of the world that is his, even if it means putting a pause on his friendship with Rose. It hurts her to see him go, goes to show you how close they are, but Rose understands that this is something he has to do. That he, just like she did with the Doctor, has to put himself first.

This is why in their final moments together they don't kiss. It parallels her first departure, but without the affirmation that they're going to continue their romantic relationship.

In the kiss they do share earlier, it is one sided. Initiated by Mickey and one that Rose doesn't seem responsive to, doesn't even close her eyes. It comes unnaturally to the two of them, as if to show how their relationship has changed.

Rose does not share the same outlook that the Doctor does. It's because of this, that their perspectives have a tendency to clash when they're in danger.

She doesn’t let the moments they have together be weighed down by the knowledge that their time together is limited. No, it is that knowledge that helps her be more outright with her affections towards him. Carrying the strength and hope they both need to continue finding the joy in living in the present.

We see this presented explicitly, when they realize they're stuck on Krop Tor.

"Can you build another Tardis?

"They were grown, not built. And with my whole planet gone, we're kind of stuck."

"Well it could be worse. This lot said they'd give us a lift."

"Then what?"

"I don't know. Find a planet. Get a job. You live a life same as the rest of the universe.

The Doctor can't handle the thought of Rose dying. You see this, in the manner that he is so quick to give up hope once he has accepted their potential doom.

It goes to show that the strength and peppy attitude he has, is nothing more than a mask. That deep inside, he is afraid and struggling to hold it back.

This is where we seemingly see how he really is, how he really feels.

How hesitant he is at accepting that there's a way out.

How quickly he reverts back to cynicism when he isn't reminded that there's still something to fight for.

Rose understands this.

It's because of this, that she resorts to humor. Telling him about the potential outcomes of their current situation, that won't end in death. That even as they wait for their inevitable end, they can still enjoy their final moments together.

It's in that moment, where they're both vulnerable that she admits she sees herself sharing a life with him. Something that seemingly stuns him back to the present, and causes him to put his walls up.

This must be terrifying to him.

To have someone understand him so well, that he is caught off guard by how quickly she is able to bypass any prior barriers.

"I promised Jackie I would always take you back home"

"Everyone leaves home in the end"

"Not to end up stuck here."

"Yeah but stuck with you, that's not so bad."

"Yeah?"

"Yes"

It's her ability to not take his reluctance to voice his feelings personally, that causes him to smile. Because it's the moment he realizes that she sees him for who he is, and understands.

It's her capability to see what he means to say that prompts her to kiss his helmet right before he goes. It is what gives them the strength to watch one another as he drops below the surface with Ida.

In other words, it is what gives her the confidence to reaffirm what he means to her even if he can't express it back.

"Oh she knows"

That is why he doesn't see the need to voice how much he loves her right before he drops to the unknown. In a leap of faith, he realizes that really the only belief he really holds is in Rose Tyler. That he will have another opportunity to voice his feelings, away from imminent death.

Rose also devotes all her belief in him, and willingly shoots at the glass in an attempt to survive for his sake.

Beyond all reason, it's this complete devotion to one another that causes them to overcome the challenges that stand in their way. It is what motivates them to assume that the other is alive, even when the odds are against them.

It's this faith, that gives them the strength to continue living once they're separated…only to then reunite in season 4.

(Where another parallel can be found, in how they both seemingly always end up running towards one another. They both hold on to the one person they know will never fail them.)

"Love and Monsters" demonstrates the extent of Jackie's loneliness. She is a single mother who fills the void her husband left with casual relationships. Her daughter is the only real constant part of her life and the fact that she was "left behind" by her Pete is what causes her to harden and see the world very critically.

It explains why she had such a hard time understanding Rose and her manner of thinking, because it goes against what she craves: security.

This is why she struggled to let her go, but now the Doctor is essentially her family too, and so her loyalty extends to him too. The Tylers are exceptionally loyal, they love unashamedly and they lend a hand to anyone who needs it: Mickey and the Doctor. They may clash often, but that loyalty is what allows them to hold on to one another in spite of their flaws as people.

They're the ultimate ride or dies.

Jackie and Rose are very alike in this way, this is why they often fight. Their love for the people in their lives is so intense, that they have trouble separating that love from their decisions. It is what gives them the strength to stay by the side of their loved ones, even if it means sacrificing their own needs.

But something that I think people overblow is the reason why Jackie tells her that she's becoming someone unlike herself.

The reason why Rose's life was able to be relatively stable, unlike some companions who came after her, is because she makes an effort to maintain both her human life and her life in the stars. They're intricately intertwined, much like how Donna is also able to maintain her foundation in spite of the memory loss.

The Doctor really isn't her whole life if you think about it. She is not being forced to stay by his side and she does take the time to spend time with family outside of their adventure.

She chooses to concentrate on their relationship but she has the choice to divide time for others as well.

There is another aspect of her, that I feel like too many people might misunderstand.

She doesn't think of herself as the Doctor's replacement. Her role by his side does not conflate her self importance, she is more than aware that ultimately she is not him. That she, is not granted the same liberties that he has to put her life on the line.

She knows she is not the Doctor. And she, is comfortable with embracing her role as his companion. She wishes to share his responsibility, not take it over.

This is why she is able to maintain this human aspect of herself for so long. She's still compassionate and understanding, because the tough call is not on her hands most of the time. If it was, she would have gradually lost that part of herself in season 1. But nonetheless it becomes a possible outcome if she's not careful, just like her mother warned.

When she is clinging for her life in Doomsday, something I don't see enough people point out is how truly selfless Rose was at this moment to let go of her hold, for the good of humanity. She reaches for the lever, knowing that there is a good chance she will die, this is why she takes the time to look at him while she desperately holds on.

She wants the last person she sees to be the man she loves; to find the courage to do what is right at the cost of her own life. It was not done out of recklessness.

This is why they are perfect for one another. Because they both understand that they are not the center of the universe, that ultimately, the duty they now share comes first.

This is explored further in the Dimension Cannon audios, that gives context to the development she goes through that leads to her reappearance in season 4.

Her reasons for using the dimension cannon are more complex than they appear at first glance. Her sole reason for finding him is not only because of the love she feels for him, but because she also has to put a stop to the mass destruction of every universe.

I see way too many people use her reasoning for coming back as evidence that she has this weird obsession with the Doctor, and that's just not true.

She seeks him out because she has to.

If she gets to stay with him afterwards, that's just a plus.

(from here on out, I will give out some direct spoilers on said audios to provide more context to the development we see in show. Skip to after the 2nd row of asterisks if you don’t wish to be spoiled)

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

It is in the realm of the audios, that Rose is entrusted to travel to parallel worlds without the prior knowledge of knowing where she will end up. Every universe is doomed, and she has to find allies in the parallel versions of the people she loves to pick up on details required to find her original world.

There is no such thing as a parallel Doctor. So she must figure out a way to get back to him and warn him, without his help.

Now I must stress, these audios get dark really fast.

They do not hold back on showing just how awful this duty is, and how it comes at the expense of her humanity and moral code.

At times, she has to manipulate these parallel versions of her friends and family into helping her. To use them, up until she is forced to leave and in doing so, condemning them to a long and painful death.

Over and over again.

Imagine what that does to a person?

To see the people you love, realize that you can't save them. To leave them behind, while hearing them plead for their lives to be saved.

She takes this duty on, under the pretense that her familiarity with the Doctor makes her the most ideal candidate for the job. She embarks on her first trip, thinking that this might be the closest thing she has to being on another adventure and that in the process, she could save some worlds in his absence.

But it's in fulfilling the role as the universe's protector that she realizes just what she signed up for. She becomes the Doctor's replacement, in the same way Jack Harkness takes on Torchwood and partakes in the duty to protect the earth.

Yet what makes her different from those two, is that she is mortal. She doesn't have the tools they have at her disposal nor the wisdom that they have gained over the span of their extended lives.

No, she can die.

She cannot save anyone.

And there truly is nothing to guarantee that she will succeed.

We see her struggle to maintain her distance, to not promise a way out to the people she encounters because there is none. She is no hero, she is their angel of death.

In an act of defiance to the death that will follow her, on her first trip, she saves an alternate version of Clive and takes him under her wing. Only to come to the realization that one life is not enough to make up for all the millions that died under her watch.

It is because of this that she opts to not embark on said missions alone anymore. Instead, she takes her own Pete, Jackie, and Clive only to find that they too struggle to maintain their distance. If not for them, then who will ground her?

It's in one of these solo missions, that she crumbles under the weight of the responsibility that she adopted.

In a twist of fate, she is imprisoned inside a red phone box. Trapped inside with no means of escaping, and no real guarantee that she will find a means of leaving before the world goes to shit.

It is in this moment, where she is left to wallow in her situation, that we see her break down. She admits this to her mother, who can hear her through the intercom.

"I can't"

"Rose you're scaring me, just get out. Find a way"

"I'm locked inside a police box."

"What? A Tardis?"

"No Mum, a real one. A red one, all musty on the inside."

"Well you gotta get out."

“I know.”

I'll skip ahead, but I felt this was necessary to include to show how dire the situation is.

"I'm sorry.”

“Rose?”

“It’s the same mom. Same doors, same noise, same light through the windows-I think they’re a bit smaller. If I half close my eyes, i’m there..but it’s not, i’m not. I’m not him. I’m not a time lord. No psychic paper. No sonic, No centuries of knowledge. Only one heart..”

“Sweetheart, I know it hurts but you gotta get it together.”

“How?”

“I don’t know, pick a lock or something?”

“How did he do it?”

“Sheer cheek, most of the time”

“He lit up every room he was in, they always listen to him! He walked through hell like it was a walk in the park.”

Because now she realizes how important it was for him to remain strong, to smile in the face of danger. Before it was easy to assume that she understood everything there was about how he looked at the world. The size of the burden, and what it meant to share it.

But now she’s in his shoes and the truth is starting to settle in. Jackie says this in response, as a means of putting things into perspective for Rose.

“If the universe needs the Doctor, then the universe needs Rose Tyler to find the Doctor. I’m so proud of you but you need to stay alive. One heart. One life, you got that?”

Rose never sought to replace him, we see that here in the manner that she can't handle being in his shoes. She is starting to develop that very same cynicism that he once had and is beginning to feel a sense of inferiority.

This is why she needs someone with her, much like how the Doctor needs a companion. This is a duty that he has to share with someone, not alone.

Jackie believes in her strength, because she knows that she has it in her to prevail. Rose and the Doctor are not the same, but nonetheless she is now the closest thing he has to an equal. And she has to learn to handle this new responsibility through her own means, not by what the Doctor believes is right.

(This is as far as I will share because there's still one audio left in the series and it has yet to come out, so I will hold on to my final conclusions until then. In the meantime though, I urge you all to check them out. They are absolutely worth it!)

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

But with this in mind, the hardened version of Rose we see in season 4 makes more sense. It's why the thought of having an alternate Donna die doesn't really dissuade her into using her, and why she is so unlike the Rose Tyler we knew.

She has matured.

This is reflected in her clothing: the overly practical nature of her outfit and her leather jacket. It purposefully parallels the outfit her first Doctor wore at his lowest point. The version of himself that was overwhelmed by the responsibility he held to uphold what his people once did.

I believe it's this new understanding of his perspective that stops her from putting a name to the nature of their relationship to Donna. She assumes they're together, but Rose neither agrees nor denies her assumption.

Because she can't make that decision on his behalf, not when he has so much at stake.

It is this new attitude that also seemingly makes her more distant. Less forgiving towards the Dalek threat and less inclined for a peaceful confrontation because she understands that sacrifices must be made for the greater good. It's why she serves as his support system throughout all the chaos, she knows now how overwhelming it is.

Yet that part of her that seeks to comfort those she loves is still there. We see this in the way that when the Doctor is struck, she does not waste time wallowing in all that she has done to get to him. No, she puts aside her feelings and tells him how much she missed him. Tells him she's been busy, as a means of not burdening him with all that she has done to get to him.

(Just as an additional tidbit, I don't know why people use these small bouts of jealousy she briefly displays in the first half of this two parter to justify why they believe Rose wouldn't get along with other companions. She canonically does lol She even compliments Martha and is seen to be on good terms with both Donna and Sarah Jane? Her initial jealousy stemmed from disappointment in being left out. It's not enough to warrant the impression that she is a jealous person all the time.)

With all this in mind, it also offers an additional reason as to why she ultimately ends up choosing Tentoo.

Her final decision is not done on a whim, no, it's her being exposed to the constant dread of a life in his shoes, that puts things into perspective.

She cannot continue chasing after him.

When she is returned to that beach, she comes to the realization that the Doctor is going to decide what is best for her, again.

In the time they have spent apart, he hasn't changed his outlook on his prior decision. He is still firm in his belief that she is better off living without him (the timelord version), so much so that he does not ask for her input.

It's because of this that she decides to not back down. To not let him think that he can get away with deciding on her behalf because she's not the same woman she was all those years ago.

Given that it's her life, it is she who needs to make the final call.

Notice that what she asks, when deciding what path to choose, is for clarification on what he meant to say on their initial separation.

The reason why this is important is because the man she knew, would never say it out loud. Only the one capable of changing and giving into that love, would ever do such a thing.

And that version of him is Tentoo.

He is human, but most importantly, his duty to the universe is the same as her own. Indirect. The original Time lord self can continue handling things in his absence so he's got nothing stopping him from enjoying a life by her side. One that can either be mundane or filled with adventure, but it will be spent with one another.

The choice was obvious.

(Notice that this is not the first time she is asked to make this choice. The first time being with Mickey, where she seemingly chooses the life of thrills over her relationship with him, over love. Now that she knows what both paths entail, this time she prioritizes love and chooses Tentoo.

With the growth she underwent throughout her seasons, she realizes that it's not the adventure she wants, it's the Doctor. This is her, finally making the decision that fits this version of herself that understands that love is what she needs)

But it's with this in mind that she questions what the fate of the time lord Doctor would be if she stays. That is why she says "it's still not right, the Doctor is still you."

Because she personally knows what his role entails. She was barely able to handle it on her own with the help of her family, who is to say that he won't crash and burn when he is alone?

The Doctor is not only his name, but his promise to strive for the greater good. In other words, the role he plays for the universe. She doesn't mean that they're not the same man. No, she means to point out that the price of her happiness will come at his expense.

That the time lord version, no matter what she chooses, will forever be tied to the responsibility of handling the universe.

"And I am him"

With this, Ten assures her that he too, in a way, will get his happy ending. Because by choosing Tentoo, he guarantees that this version of himself, his tenth incarnation, will not suffer the same fate that he will. A new man will not walk away in his shoes, no, this version of himself will spend the rest of his life loving the woman that he was made to love. To have the one adventure he can never have.

It does not come without pain of course. That is why he can’t bare to see the two together, and turns his back on them. Realizing then and there, that there is no longer a place in the life she will live from here on out.

When she kisses Tentoo, it is both a way of imparting that final sense of gratitude to the time lord version of himself (who allowed for this to happen), and it is also to signify the beginning of a new life she will spend with Tentoo.

Tentoo is the Doctor, he harbors those same desires that the time lord version of himself has. He is human, which grants him the freedom to choose what path he wants and that path is none other than hers.

It would make absolutely no sense to have her resent him or even believe he isn't the Doctor.

This is the girl who was able to love multiple versions of her father and mother. That through her solo adventures was reminded that at the core of individuals, are traits that remain regardless of their circumstances.

Why would she not love him too?

A detail I love is that when she hears the Tardis dematerialize, her first instinct is to stop and see it go.

She is not running to stop him, that much is obvious, because she stops long before she even reaches it.

No, she just stands there and looks at it.

Just like she would have done had she had the chance to see the earth go on her first trip. This is her goodbye, her affirming that he will be remembered and his importance in her life.

That is why Tentoo joins her, silently taking her hand as if to assure her that he is still there.That he understands that this, is her way of saying goodbye to his other self. But don’t fret, it won’t be long before they too will have their own adventures amongst the stars.

That being said, God forbid he finds out that Jackie joined her on her dimension cannon adventures, he would freak lmao

#10th doctor #doctor x rose #rtd era #tenrose #character analysis #ninth doctor #doctor who #rambles #tentoo x rose #doctorrose #ninerose #rose tyler #rose tyler and the dimension cannon #rose tyler analysis #timepetals #retrospective #long reads

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grottylittlefox · 9 months

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How could I ever forget you? Chapter 14

Sebastian Sallow/Professor Sallow × f!MC / reader

Slow burn/fluff/angst, aged up characters 18-mid 20s

Somehow it had taken until your final day at Hogwarts to finally show Sebastian how you felt, and by then it was too late. Years pass and your distance grows stronger, despite your many efforts for him. A surprise encounter at a new job could change things forever. Finding each other once again at the very place you first met, Hogwarts.

Chapter 1: "I guess this is it"

Chapter 2: "Oh how I missed you"

Chapter 3: "Goodbye, Sebastian"

Chapter 4: " think it's time you move on"

Chapter 5: "Professor Sallow?"

Chapter 6: "Welcome Home"

Chapter 7: "You're my good luck charm"

Chapter 8: "I'm more of a butterfly person"

Chapter 9: “What have you become?”

Chapter 10: “I have something for you”

Chapter 11: “Curious”

Chapter 12: “I can never stay away from you”

Chapter 13: “Meet me in the undercroft”

Chapter 14: “Shall we dance?”

Today was the day, dinner with Professor Weasley.

That morning you awoke to a blanket of snow upon the rolling hills outside of your bedroom window. The cold glass pressed against your head as you rested in thought, your gaze following the dancing snowflakes swirling down onto the rooftops below.

Your imagination wandered for a while, preparing you for the night ahead, how you would approach the situation that Professor Fig had been so ominous about. You had visited his portrait multiple times since, eager for some kind of explanation, but alas, it remained empty.

And of course, that string of thought always pulled you back to Sebastian, as much as you resisted. The memory of him leaving, barging past you in a hurry, after witnessing Garreth’s lips upon yours.

Him getting Ostara back.

He had been gone for some time now, with no letters and nowhere to send an owl too. Of course you had left him notes on your parchment, multiple in fact. But still the paper remained free of his touch.

Your eyes wandered to the edge of the horizon, tucked behind silvery mountains and the haze of gentle snowfall. He was out there, somewhere, slipping away.

~~~

You simply couldn’t resist going out and enjoying the weather, it rarely snowed in London, and oh how you had missed Hogwarts in the wintertime.

You set out onto the castle grounds, making your way out for a chilly walk around the Hogwarts Valley, giving you some more time to contemplate your plan for the evening. Your favourite green scarf wrapped around your neck, matched with a cosy hat and gloves.

Your breath clouded in front of you as you peered out over the wooden beams of the bridge at the edge of the castle. The views were simply glorious, and for that small moment, you had at last cleared your head. Nothing but the whooshing sound of the wind, and the burning nip at the tip of your nose.

Suddenly a pair of hands gripped onto your waist, pulling you backwards as a chin rested gently on your shoulder, snapping you back into reality.

“Guess who?” A friendly voice whispered.

“Garreth,” you grinned, turning to him.

How was it that he was everywhere?

He looked down at you, curls of auburn hair falling beside his mossy green eyes. The edge of his lip twitching up into a smile.

“Excited for tonight?” He asked, before planting a little kiss onto your icy lips, quickly heating up your face.

That guilty lump returned to your throat. You had continued to pursue Garreth in Sebastian’s absence, you had no choice. This dinner was the only chance you had to get the information that could save Sebastian, and you would go to any length to do so.

“Can’t wait,” you smiled, performing.

“I too can’t wait, to show you off that is,” Garreth teased.

That guilty lump dissolved in an instant, the warmth travelling up to your cheeks, pulling that forced smile into something more real.

To show you off?

A little tingle flipped in your stomach.

Somebody wanted to show you off.

It made practically no sense that you felt this way. The last time Garreth had ‘shown you off’ you felt humiliated, being under Sebastian’s prying eyes.

But, Sebastian was gone. Sebastian, he would never show you off.

Perhaps it was his absence, perhaps it was that you finally felt seen. But Garreth…. made you feel something.

“I’m just heading into the castle, to get everything ready for dinner,” he smiled, stepping back. “I’ll see you tonight, MC.”

You watched as he set off across the bridge, turning back to flash you one last smile, which once again sent tiny little tingles rushing through you.

Were you starting to like Garreth after all?

~~~

A familiar reflection stared back at you, hair pulled into an ornate bun accompanied by the most luscious dress in deep hues of green. Perfectly matching the palette of Garreths charming, gentle eyes. You watched yourself smile as you fiddled at the necklace holding Sebastian’s precious ring, trying to ignore the lingering doubts about your feelings that tormented you more with every passing second.

It was time. You took a final deep breath, analysing the way your body moved with the fabric, before heading to the door of your cosy Hogwarts bedroom. Hesitating, you turned back, glancing across the moonlit desk in the corner. The enchanted parchment lie there, waiting patiently for a response. You had been hung up on it every day, constantly checking, carrying it with you wherever you went. And this was to be no different. The parchment was soon stuffed in your purse, accompanying you to dinner.

As you made your way down the grand staircase, you felt the array of heads turning, watching as you strolled by. These were not students heads however, they were portraits, eyeing you up in your new look.

“You look lovely!” A voice called out from above.

You looked up, to find a portrait of a young girl staring back at you. A portrait you must have passed hundreds, if not thousands of times, yet somehow never even noticed.

“Thank you,” you said as a gentle smile slipped your lips, carefully holding up your skirt in order not to trip.

You finally arrived at the great hall, completely unprepared for what to expect. You did however find it rather amusing that the students were so blissfully unaware of such events happening, as they all resided in their dorms. You wondered what sorts of things the staff got up too when you were a student. And what it might be like to see them tonight, without the restrictions of their office and classroom walls.

Standing outside of the large door, you adjusted your dress, listening in to the hustle and bustle of commotion on the other side.

The door slowly began to open, letting the boom of chatter and music slip out with the light.

A mop of ginger hair peered around the door, followed by a smile and a rather elaborate coat and tie.

“Look at you!”

“It’s nothing,” you gushed. “Just something I had laying around-“

“You look devine,” he muttered, reaching out a hand and guiding you inside, revealing the most exquisite display of feast you had ever laid eyes on.

The smell of warm food was enchanting, and the food itself a sight to behold. Instead of four long tables, the hall was centred by one large round table, topped with delicious treats accompanied by absurd amounts of alcohol.

Almost the entire faculty of Hogwarts was already digging in, laughing and chatting away. Only four empty seats remained. Two beside each other for you and Garreth, one for Professor Black, who would likely not show up, and one at the other side of the table, reserved for Sebastian.

You were thrilled to find you were also sat beside Professor Garlick, or Mirabel as you now called her. However you were utterly distressed that Professor Weasley had been sat at the other side of Garreth, making it practically impossible to converse with her. The entire purpose of this plan was to find out what she knew, and now that task had become just a little bit more tedious.

And so you began to dig in, watching as the enchanted wine bottles poured endless amounts of glasses around the table.

You had spent most of the evening chatting to Professors Garlick than actually communicating with Garreth at all. He was far too deep in debate with Professor Sharp, who was beginning to slur his words about potions. And now no longer being a student it seemed Garreth could finally speak his mind, which was certainly taking priority over talking to you. This was all much to the dismay of Professor Weasley, who was visibly uncomfortable to be sat between the two of them.

You stood up from your chair and approached the Professor from behind, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Care to join me for a stroll?” You smiled.

“I could use some air,” she replied giving Garreth a scolding look.

The two of you headed out of the door leading to the gardens, that sat above your old common room. The warm light from inside illuminated the darkness from below, matching the twinkling stars up above that left a sparkle on the snowy ground.

“I can only apologise for my nephews behaviour in there, it seems the drinks have gotten to his head-“

“It’s alright, he’s very passionate about Potions,” you chuckled.

“That he is. I’m thrilled to hear he is opening up shop in Hogsmeade… and I see the two of you have been getting close.”

“We,” you paused, trying to muster the right thing to say. “We have. Perhaps we could collaborate on some kind of healing potion, in the future.”

There it was, the perfect diversion.

“Certainly, you have made strides for healing in the wizarding world, who knew that muggle methods could be so effective?”

“They are, however, there are

certain types of magic that I think could be just as powerful, it’s just a matter of finding them.”

Something occurred to you in that moment, hearing yourself speak of this.

Isidora, using ancient magic to take away pain.

It was awfully similar to what you had been doing all this time, without the magic of course.

How had everything you’d been through somehow lead to this? Was it more than a coincidence?

The Professor raised an eyebrow, seeming eager to hear more about the magic you spoke of.

“In my research,” you continued. “I heard about some sort of item belonging to Salazar Slytherin that was hidden in the castle, having some kind of healing abilities. It certainly sounded interesting, perhaps it’s worth investigating some day.” You spoke ever so casually, in order to be cautious.

“My dear,” the Professor chucked. “Do not waste your time. I don’t think such an item exists.”

She seemed awfully certain of that, perhaps a little too certain.

“- and even if it did,” she continued. “It would have since been moved.”

“Moved? What do you mean?” You queried, desperate for even a crumb of information.

“Professor Black is a keen collector of such items. I had to essentially run the school myself while he spent months finding every last trace of Salazar Slytherin that remained in these walls, to keep in his personal collection.”

She turned away from you, glancing out at the black lake.

“His findings are very well secured.” She muttered, as her eyes fixated on the little island surrounded by the dark murky water.

Suddenly the blaring sound of trumpets swept the air from behind you, causing you to jump in surprise.

“Let us head back inside, Garreth will be looking for you. You certainly don’t want to miss the dancing,” the Professor smiled, linking your arms together as she took you back into the party.

Oh how it pained you that your conversation had to be cut short, and all for dancing. However this did confirm what Professor Fig had said, but what else? That the collection is secure? But where?

Your thoughts raced, analysing every detail of your conversion.

She looked at the lake.

Could it be in the lake?

~~~

A band of floating instruments had appeared in the corner of the hall, playing an upbeat tune. You watched as Professor Ronen was jigging around in his best robes, clearly having an incredible time. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself watching him rhythmically dart around, you could only imagine what it would be like to be that carefree.

Suddenly he turned, making direct eye contact with you. You bowed your head, peering down at the purse in your hands to ease the awkwardness.

Peeking out was the parchment you had stuffed in there earlier, only now it looked different. A message inked into the paper.

‘It’s over’

What’s over? You spiralled, instantly thinking of the worse case scenario.

“Shall we dance?” A voice interrupted your panic.

Before you even had a second to respond, Professor Ronen had already dragged you into a spin, causing you to laugh despite the torment in your head.

You soon found yourself doing that same carefree jig you were admiring just moments ago, with every note of the music pulling you further away from the torturous thoughts of Sebastian. Perhaps the drinks were starting to get to your head too.

“You and Weasley, eh? Must say I’m surprised,” Professor Ronen teased.

“As am I,”

“I thought you were more of a Slytherin fan,” he wiggled his eyebrows, almost flirtatiously.

You honestly couldn’t tell if he was teasing you about Sebastian or if he really did have too much to drink. Either way, you found yourself in a fit of laughter at his comment as the room was spinning around you.

“May I?” Interrupted your fun, it was Garreth.

“She’s all yours,” the Professor winked, stumbling away.

You glanced around the room at the rest of the staff who were now far beyond a sober state, a sight you never thought you’d witness. You once again spat out a giggle as Garreth wrapped his arms around you to sway you into dance. The music slowed as the lighting dimmed, leaving only gentle candlelight across the hall.

“What’s so funny?” He teased. “Is there something on my face?”

“No,” you chuckled again, placing your arms around Garreths neck and leaning into his chest. Breathing in the stench of alcohol on his robes. Your thoughts of Sebastian now far gone, in fact most of your thoughts too.

Garreth glided you across the hall for what felt like forever. It was peaceful, like dancing on a cloud. You gazed up at the starry sky above, getting lost in the lights as they moved, blurring your vision.

A warm breath grazed your ear, lingering for a moment.

“Shall we take this someplace more private?” Garreth whispered.

You eyes fluttered, tingles dotting across your cheeks. With a breath, your lips parted, about to provide an answer.

Suddenly a loud creek made you pull away, scorching your ears from the gentle music. Still in Garreths arms, you turned towards the large door as it slowly opened, revealing a silhouette.

Sebastian stood there, panting.

You instantly sobered up, feeling a rush of emotion flood you.

He’s okay. He’s alive.

Chapter 15

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow x mc #hogwarts legacy fanfic #harry potter #harry potter hogwarts legacy #garreth weasley #harry potter fanfiction #fanfic

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she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 1 month

Text

Finally finished the outline of Daughter of the Rain and Snow and I know exactly how the ending is going down almost pretty much (details are blurry, but plot and character arcs are completely outlined and ready to write instead of just bullet points or vague ideas) so out of interest (won’t necessarily stick to it 100% but would still like to know) what would anyone like to see next if you would like to continue reading my stuff?

Explanations below cut

Sequel

I have every intention to write this one, I have characters but thus far not a main plot more of just the premise. Would follow Ahra, Evan, Yara, maybe Vix, and maybe Lilia as our young Dregs and start around when Kaz and Inej left for Ravka since the Dregs was kinda on the verge of collapse whoops. Can’t go into too much detail or they’ll be spoilers for the current fic but there’d be the opportunity for some Aimee and Kiada, and Kanej would still be present but they might not be in focus (again, can’t explain too much or they’ll be spoilers). There might even be some Fiona or some Maya stuff who knows

I really want to write this bc I really want to write Ahra’s story so it’ll probably end up coming around at some point but I realise it might not be the most interesting to y’all when it’s mostly ocs so yeah

Feliks had been more than lenient with Ahra. He’d been the only person who ever gave her a real job - playing her violin in the reception of the White Rose - and when things had predictably gone haywire he’d been good enough to only turn her away, not Evan too. Ahra hadn’t much cared for the job, she loved her violin but she did not enjoy watching the Rose’s clients come and go and she certainly hadn’t cared for having her skin paled and her hair Tailored white for such purposes, but it was easy money and enough to keep them ticking over as all of Evan’s funds petered away on overpriced little medicine bottles. She studied the thin stack of kruge in her hand, thinking of Kaz standing opposite her in the alley by the Slat.

“I don’t need your charity, Brekker,”

“And far be it from me to offer you any,”

Not charity, but she didn’t doubt Dirtyhands had his own purposes in paying her for a job she failed to finish. Still, cash was cash. And medicine was medicine. She tucked it back into her breast pocket and tapped it lightly, slipping round the corner and pulling a bone light from her jacket.

What Evan didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.

Helnik

This was an idea I had a looooong time ago and I shared a little snippet scene on here, but then I started writing Daughter of the Rain and Snow and never looked back. I really want to write this one I think it could be pretty cool, it would be relatively short set in between Crooked Kingdom and King of Scars and take place in Ravka; based on a headcanon I have about Nina learning how to use her new power and as a result of it experiencing hallucinations of Matthias being with her that she is fully convinced are real. Following Nina, Zoya, and Genya as they try to navigate this and worry that they shouldn’t let Nina got to Fjerda in this state.

“What time is it?” she mumbled into the cushions.

“A little after seven bells,”

“Saints, how disgusting,”

Nina sighed, in a mixture of content and tiredness. The luxury of the Little Palace was a mostly welcome change from crawling in next to Matthias in the tomb at Black Veil - or even of the hotel room at the Geldrenner. They’d shared a sofa, so close to each other; limbs entangled, chest against her back so she could feel his heart beating. A steady rhythm, no matter what he was feeling. The big bed here was more comfortable, but the closeness felt like an aching absence, as though the few feet between them spanned for miles. She reached out behind her and found something soft that she decided was his arm.

“Come closer,” she whispered, and she imagined the way he’d smile.

He would press her fingers to his lips and she would roll over to face him. She’d reach out and touch his cheek, and he would catch her hands in his.

“Witch,”

“Barbarian,”

“Little Red Bird,” he would say, just before his lips met hers

The sunlight would be warm and soft on their skin as they moved closer, as she felt his heart beating beneath her fingers.

But he hadn’t moved. He hadn’t come closer, or kissed her fingers, or brushed his lips against hers. He had not gently pushed her hand down towards his wrist so their fingers could intertwine.

“Matthias?”

Nina made the mistake of rolling over, and began to scream.

Wesper

There’s a line in Crooked Kingdom where Jesper says if Van Eck really couldn’t cope with Wylan not being able to read he could have told people he was blind, the point being that still would’ve been wrong but that everything he’d resorted to was unnecessary and Wylan shouldn’t feel like it was his fault. So this would be an au where Van Eck did exactly that and Wesper attend Ketterdam university together; Wylan grapples with his father being the worst and falling for Jesper as he fears telling him the truth, Jesper grapples with addiction and wanting to stay at university partly for the sake of falling for Wylan.

Jesper leaned in, pushing one of Wylan’s curls back off his face.

“It’s pity you can’t see how beautiful your eyes are,”

Wylan blushed, letting Jesper run his hand over his cheek and tilt his face up towards his own. Jesper leaned forward but then Wylan squirmed, just slightly, and Jesper tensed as he pulled his hand away.

“And me, of course,” he added, letting his voice take on a teasing lilt to brush past the moment, “It’s a shame you don’t know how gorgeous I am,”

Wylan almost smiled, but he had stepped away.

“I- erm,” he brushed his fingers through the lock of hair Jesper had moved and cleared his throat, “Excuse me,”

And then he was gone.

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eleanor-bradstreet · 1 year

Text

The Palace

Benedict Bridgerton x Sophie Beckett Rated: 18+, explicit sexual content Word count: 3.6k

Summary: Benedict makes Sophie’s first royal event one to remember.

Author’s Note: Happy Queen Charlotte release day! Here’s some smut to celebrate 😜 No spoilers for the show in this fic, just some royal-adjacent horny nonsense. This is also my belated birthday gift to @queen-of-the-misfit-toys Enjoy our boy and his talented hands, my dear 💙

Sophie needed a moment to breathe. Between the glare of the sun, the tightness of her stays and the dizzying array of new faces, her head was beginning to spin. Happily, the reception party was spread across both the gardens and two floors of St. James’s Palace, offering plenty of quiet corners where she could rest. Leaving Benedict in conversation with Anthony, she picked her way up to a room on the second floor. Despite its towering ceilings and the endless stretches of halls that winged away from its massive doors, the tapestries within made it feel marginally warmer than the throne and ballrooms below. A bouquet of purple blooms perched on a low table in front of the windows and she stood by it, trying to steady herself as she watched the members of court mingle in the gardens.

It was Hyacinth’s presentation day, but Benedict had wasted no opportunity to remind Sophie that it served as her presentation too. The first year of their marriage had been spent blissfully in the countryside but now she and the whole of the Bridgerton clan had agreed that it was time for her to appear in the London season. Everyone was well rehearsed in Sophie’s backstory if need be. The explanation that she was a distant cousin of the late Earl of Penwood had been carefully worded by Anthony and Violet. All members of the family were instructed to alert them if anyone probed too insistently. They all hoped it wouldn’t cause too much speculation for the second-born Bridgerton son to reemerge from a long absence with a wife in tow, but the ton were fickle and always desperate for gossip.

The morning ceremony had gone off without a hitch. Hyacinth had walked serenely to the Queen, though her family could tell she was fighting to suppress giggles the entire time. Sophie had managed to blend into the sea of ladies in ivory dresses with no one taking notice of her until the reception party began in the garden. Anthony had circled her like a hawk, glowering more than usual at each person she and Benedict spoke to and he only moved away when the attendees queued to greet the Queen. Sophie was buzzing with anxiety, her mind roaring as Benedict guided her forward and introduced her. Somehow she had remembered to curtsy properly and to smile. She had said something that made the Queen laugh but couldn’t remember what, then she had turned away, dazed. Benedict brought her back to herself with a tight squeeze of her hand and an encouraging smile before they separated to mingle.

Now the enormity of the day was weighing on her and Sophie needed this reprieve. How she found herself here, barely a year after selling her hair to a wigmaker and cleaning out chamberpots, was still a turn of events she couldn’t fully believe. As she leaned against the table and enjoyed the fragrance of the flowers, Benedict entered the room behind her. She knew it was him even before the press of warm lips against her neck. She could always sense when he was nearby, attuned to him like the change in pressure before a storm. Her skin would prickle and her mind would calm, steadied by the proximity of her anchor in this new life.

His hands banded around her waist as he pressed himself to her back, murmuring into the slope of her shoulder. “What do you think, my love? Your first royal event.”

Sophie smiled, grateful for the familiar comfort of his arms. “It is breathtaking. I could never have dreamed I would find myself here. Introduced to the Queen of England. Do you think she believed our story? Do you think she knows I don’t really belong?”

Benedict gently turned her chin back to face him with a gloved hand. His brow was creased. “You do belong here. As much as anyone. You are my wife and the daughter of an Earl. I never want you doubting yourself.” His insistent tone reverberated into her back, leaving no space for her heart or mind to argue. “I think she believed us but even if she didn’t, she clearly doesn’t care. You fit in here. Somehow, you manage to fit perfectly everywhere.” The fingers on her chin moved to stroke her cheek. “In our little country cottage, or in these grand halls, looking like a veritable princess.”

He pressed another kiss to her lips and she sank against him, fighting the tears that his words stirred within her.

“I love you so much, Benedict,” she whispered. “You’ll never know how much.”

He tightened his hold, hands splaying across her ribs. “And I love you, darling. You are my entire heart. My whole world.” He paused and let his eyes stray across her decolletage, highly pronounced thanks to the incomparable structure of her court dress. “This may be the most striking dress I’ve ever seen you in. I can’t deny that it has sent my mind in all kinds of…enticing directions.”

The crooked grin that followed was a warning shot.

Sophie sighed, turning back to the windows. “Ben, we really can’t.”

“We won’t.” His mock indignation was completely undermined by the low pitch his voice sank into. His hands traced down to grasp her hips and he pressed himself firmly into her backside, pinning her between him and the table. His words ghosted warm next to her ear, a devastating purr. “We aren’t doing anything. We are just standing, a husband and wife, quietly taking in the view.”

That’s when he pushed her hips forward ever so slightly, nearly imperceptible, but enough for her to realize that the table was at precisely the right height to strike her where sensation would bloom. She let out a small gasp.

Undeterred, Benedict continued. “We are surveying the grounds…” He nudged her against the table edge again. “The people.” Again.

Sophie took a shuddering breath, already knowing she would be helpless against the tingling wave he was building within her. Sometimes she wondered if she had married the devil himself. How dare he act so brazenly in public and in a royal palace no less? But she knew, of course, that it was precisely within Benedict Bridgerton’s nature to do such a thing. And God help her, it was one of the reasons she was so hopelessly in love with him.

Perhaps they could do this undetected. The doors behind them were too heavy to close and they could be seen by anyone passing in the hall, but this corner of the upper floor seemed deserted. And if they were, as Benedict said, just a husband and wife standing by the window, rocking with such small movements, perhaps no one would know what was happening even if they were discovered. Benedict understood her body so well and was rubbing her into the table at such a precise angle, she knew she could finish quickly. A small burst of pleasure would no doubt help ease her nerves, which she surmised was part of his motivation.

She cleared her throat, trying to maintain her composure. “They are stunning.”

“Yes, they are.” He rumbled low in her ear, his hands tight on her hips, guiding her back and forth, grinding her into the sloped angle of the wood. “The peacocks in particular are an excellent touch, are they not?” With that, he surged his hips into her and Sophie groaned quietly at the stiff length she felt pressing into the cleft of her bottom.

“Yes…” She gasped, eyes fluttering closed as all her focus narrowed to the heat between her thighs and the crush of him behind her.

“Keep your eyes on everyone out there.” Benedict tutted and she obeyed, bracing herself with palms pressed into the tabletop and gaze locked on the oblivious crowds below.

He had found a steady rhythm, pushing her forward with his body and hands, thrusting her against the table with small movements that sent spikes of desire shooting through her blood. Over and over with mechanical precision he maneuvered her in chasing pleasure, the slight quiver of the flowers beside them the only indicator to any passersby that something untoward was happening.

Benedict’s tone was quiet but with an undeniably gruff edge. “I want you to remember this moment. That you are in a palace, looking down on all the ton. You are regal Sophie. You were so marvelous speaking to Her Majesty. I was so proud to show her that I had married the most gorgeous woman in England. A woman that far outshines any of her Diamonds. With more strength and fortitude than they could ever muster. She may be the Queen, but I am certainly the richer of us both.”

Sophie gripped the table and stared, entranced as Benedict set her body and mind alight. His potent blend of arousal and affirmation drilled home the truth of his words. She did belong. She was special. Powerful even. A Bridgerton with a handsome husband on her arm and a formidable family to support her. She wore the same fine fabrics as the ladies in the sunlit hedgerows below and had received the same invitation to be feted by the Queen herself. Sophie Beckett the maid was no longer. Sophia Bridgerton had taken her place and was being ravished in a palace above the heads of the ton by a man they all respected and desired.

When his mouth opened hot on her neck to graze it with his teeth Sophie moaned aloud, unable to restrain herself. He had worked her into a state, humming with arousal, her womanhood engorged and soaking. She was burning and lightheaded and knew that she had more than the strictures of her dress to blame. While his movements made the wave of lust swell within her body, his words made her longing for him swell within her heart. She needed his mouth on hers, his skin on hers. It was the only way she would crest the wave and in that moment, everything else could be damned.

“Ben,” She spun around to face him and crashed her mouth to his, drinking in the taste of him as she tugged off his gloves. He let her do as she wished, sliding his tongue to map the circumference of her lips as she pulled his hand up and under her skirt. Caged though her breasts and consequently her lungs may be, her lower undergarments were still easy to bypass and Sophie was aching for her husband’s fingers.

Benedict paused, face lighting with mischief as he gave her a lopsided smile. “Anyone could see us.”

As if confirming her commitment to impropriety, Sophie smirked and hopped backward to sit on the table, wrapping her arms across his broad shoulders. “Good. Let them watch.”

With something like a snarl, his eyes darkened and he dipped his head to suck at the delicate skin beneath her ear. The hand under her skirt began to quest through the layers of fabric. “You hoping to make them jealous?”

“Yes,” She breathed, leaning her head back and reveling in the pattern he traced with his tongue.

“You want them all to see you getting finger fucked at their stuffy soiree?” His voice rumbled low in his chest as his fingers found her wet heat and brushed gently over her opening.

“Desperately,” She shuddered, breathing heavier as she shot another glance out the window. “I want them to know that I’m yours.”

With no preamble Benedict covered her throbbing center with the whole of his hand, cupping her possessively. He pulled back to meet her eyes. Gone was the sweet, gentle artist, replaced by an imposing seducer who looked about ready to devour her.

“This is mine is it then, darling?” He smiled wolfishly.

“Yes,” Sophie gaped, heart pounding. Only once she confirmed it did his hand start moving, fingers sliding through the slickness he had caused as his palm ground against her pubic bone, giving her the pressure she loved.

He wrapped the fingers of his other hand gently around her neck. Not hard enough to restrict her breath, just enough to hold her in place. His thumb traced languidly over the ridges of her throat above the tiers of pearls that he had gifted her for the occasion.

“And those lips…” He bent and sucked on the lower one, nibbling it before pulling away. “They are mine?”

“Yes,” Sophie’s eyes closed, hands moving to wrap around his wrist. She was growing dizzy with the intensity of the moment. His dominating play made her giddy enough but to unleash it when they were in public and at risk of being caught…it made her lose her senses.

His hand beneath her skirts shifted, aligning the pad of his thumb on her swollen clit precisely where she had shown him she liked to be touched. Then he began rubbing in skillful circles. Two more fingers pressed inside her and slid firmly in and out, probing with clear intention. Sophie hissed, her stomach clenching like a fist, nails digging into his wrist. Her nerves began to sing, the wave rising under his ministrations. This was precisely what she needed.

Benedict trailed open-mouthed kisses over her exposed skin, licking along the neckline of her dress.

“The whole of this incredible woman. She is mine. And how she dazzles. In silks. In satins. In nothing at all. Am I not the luckiest man alive to be tasked with serving her? Pleasuring her.”

His voice was dusky against her flesh and punctuated by her moan when he bit lightly into the swell of her breast. His long fingers continued to tease and swirl, pumping into her and coaxing her to release. Sophie felt her nipples harden as her body relented, lost to any way he wanted to command it, trusting him to bring her to heights she could never accomplish herself. She hooked her ankles around the back of his calves, pulling him closer between her thighs, needing the heat of him to mingle with the one he stoked in her. Clutching one another, they were nearly inert save for the talented movements of Benedict’s hand beneath her skirts. The only sounds in the room were the light rustle of fabric and Sophie’s small, pleasured breaths.

Sophie clung to his wrist, the pounding blood in her ears drowning out every sense but touch. The expert flick of his thumb against her nerves that caused her stomach to knot delightfully. The glide of his reach inside her, petting the spots that made her clench and evoking memories of his cock and its steady pace that ratcheted her to delirium. All of it heightened by his hold on her neck, the ownership he claimed over the fluttering breaths he was forcing out of her. In these moments her body was his, because she knew that his heart would always be hers.

Benedict marveled at the beauty of his wife lost in the throes of pleasure, her lips swollen from kissing, her eyes hazy, fingers flexing each time he pressed against her sweetest spot, right under her clitoral hood. He reveled in her flushed skin and needy noises, the bobbing of her throat beneath his fingers. He would never tire of making her feel this way. In fact, he longed to draw it out, leave her breathless and screaming for release, soaking his hand as he made her come over and over until her knees faltered. But they didn’t have the luxury of time. So he focused his movements, small but incendiary, on the most sensitive parts of her. He grinned, noting how her hips had started to rock, pushing herself down onto his fingers as much as he was pushing up into her. He leaned to her ear and whispered.

“That’s it. You’re beautiful, so beautiful my love.” His lips returned to her neck, nibbling around the elaborate necklace, his breath gusting hot across her skin. “I love to see you choked with my pearls.”

Her whole body stiffened, his words driving her higher. “I prefer your hands.” She rasped, managing to arch a coquettish brow.

The responding gleam in his steely eyes was precisely what she had been hoping for. Spurred on, Benedict tightened his grip, starting to slightly constrict her windpipe as his fingers increased their speed and pressure, pounding into her and teasing her nub viciously.

“I’m glad to hear that, darling.” He growled. “You are radiant with all manner of things around your neck.” He sucked at her collarbone before moving back to her lips, kissing her between each honeyed word of praise. “Priceless. My wife. My queen.”

Sophie could hear how wet she was as he worked her sex relentlessly. The cadence of his fingers was making her delirious. The warm, delicious tingle radiating from his touch was flooding over her. She knew she was approaching the end.

“Don’t…be treasonous…”

He chuckled darkly. “I can revere whomever I want to behind closed doors. Would you want that? For me to kneel before you tonight?”

Sophie’s eyes blazed, enticed by his offer. They had played that way before, Benedict submitting to her wishes, and it always set a fire in her belly. She envisioned him naked, kneeling before her on the floor of their bedroom, skin glowing in firelight that etched the outlines of his muscles and betrayed the leaking of his eager cock. She could hook her leg over his shoulder and command him to feast upon her until neither of them could breathe. She could sink her hands into the waves of his dark hair and press him into her body, riding him mercilessly to her bliss.

It was this imagery that caused her to break, thighs quaking as she bucked against him. Benedict could feel her quiver inside. Throwing her head back, she started to moan his name but he cut her off quickly with a gentle squeeze of her throat.

“Shhh. Don’t scream my name or you’ll give us away.” His eyes were hungry as he continued rubbing her furiously, rocking his hand in and out of her. “Just come for me.”

He felt her hold her breath, then the rippling spasms started to dance down the length of his fingers. She froze, rigid, gripping onto his wrist for dear life.

“That’s it. Come all over my hand.” He goaded through gritted teeth. “Then we’re going to walk out of here as if you aren’t drenched.”

He coaxed more out of her, slowing and curling his strokes as the pulsing continued, fanning out through her body, causing her to jerk. Sophie’s mind floated as the wave washed over her, its epicenter under his fingertips.

Benedict released her throat and held her close in the breathless moments as she shuddered with aftershocks. He withdrew his other hand and Sophie opened her eyes to find him sucking decadently at his fingers, relishing her taste. Lightheaded, she gently palmed the prominent tent in his breeches.

“What about you?”

Benedict smirked. “If etiquette didn’t require me to be in breeches and hose, maybe. But I’ll show you when we get home what an ordeal they are to remove. Let’s just wait a moment, my love. I will be fine.”

She laughed, the room beginning to orient itself around her again, gravity falling back into place.

“Perhaps the dress code was established for precisely that reason.”

—

An hour later at the close of the reception, Benedict and Sophie were turning to walk out through the gardens when they halted at the sight of the Queen approaching, closely followed by her man Brimsley. Sophie’s mind began to whir. She had been so blissful in the wake of their rendezvous that guilt had not settled on her thoughts as it perhaps should have. But now, reminded of precisely whose home she had defiled, she was filled with shame and could only pray that Her Majesty didn’t know the scandalous truth.

Queen Charlotte strode to them directly and they stepped apart, inclining their heads as they bowed and curtsied deeply.

The Queen fixed her eyes on Benedict. “Mr. Bridgerton. So glad you could join us when I have seen you at so few of my events.” She pursed her lips. “Though, I’m sure you are busy with your work. My nephew Friedrich has commissioned you for his official portrait, has he not?”

A bit stunned, Benedict nodded. “Indeed he has, your Majesty. An honor that I gladly accepted.”

“Very good. I’ll wait for his assessment and then see if we cannot use another portraitist for my family.” Her eyes scanned him up and down, scrutinizing though he was not sure for what. With the quirk of a smile, she continued. “We are always looking for those with creativity and…discretion.”

Gobsmacked, Benedict’s face lit up as he bowed again. “Your Majesty.”

Before she departed, the Queen pivoted to Sophie with the same small, enigmatic smile. “A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Bridgerton.”

Sophie nearly stumbled in her rush to curtsy again, overwhelmed by the entire exchange. Rising, she saw the Queen was gone but Brimsley had lingered and was staring at her pointedly. With a quick gesture he motioned toward her neckline. To her horror, she looked down to see bruising teeth marks on her breast peeking just above her bodice. She scrambled to conceal it and looked back at the Queen’s Man, blushing crimson. She did not know whether to feel relief or mortification as he shot her a wry smile, winked, then turned and caught up to the Queen, five paces behind as always.

Tagging: @angels17324 @bridgertontess @broooookiecrisp @secretagentbucky

#bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #sophie beckett #benophie #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #sophie beckett fanfiction #benophie fanfiction #benedict bridgerton smut #benophie smut #bridgerton smut #queen charlotte

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typenull · 3 months

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my laios and kabru dungeon meshi pokemon teams (respectively). explanations for each pick and my general ideas of how they would be as trainers below.

spoiler warning!

first up, laios

laios would be a very very dedicated pokemon trainer, and an avid researcher of pokemon ecology. i think he would be in absolute bliss in the pokemon world, a world where “monsters” and people live and work together in harmony. i wanted to represent his dedication by giving him pokemon that are rare, or take plenty of effort to evolve, either by friendship or by extensive level grinding. i also felt like laios would be fascinated by the concept of shiny hunting, and wanted to reflect this in his team.

his pokemon

silvally: self explanatory, isn't it? reflective of his "awesome monster". it’s a chimera that resents humans based on the circumstance of it’s existence. evolves based on love and true friendship. the absolute epitome of laios’s true identity. they are also both legendary and extremely rare, so this means he had to put in a lot of hard work to get a partner like this.

Through the bond it formed with its Trainer, its will was strengthened, and it was able to destroy its control mask.

The final factor needed to release this Pokémon's true power was a strong bond with a Trainer it trusts.

lycanroc: represents the dogs that raised him in his parent’s absence, and also his true ideal “wolf self”. it's my opinion that the wolf head of laios’s chimera form is the one that most concretely represents laios (it’s missing in earlier portrayals of his chimera form, and is the reason he chooses the wolf cloak when he becomes king.). it is also extremely loyal and protective of those it loves, just like laios.

When properly raised from a young age, it will become a trustworthy partner that will absolutely never betray its Trainer.

pyroar: indicative of the winged lion, obviously, but also a reference to the “main body” of the greek chimera myth. shiny mostly because the colors of the shiny remind me of him more. also male, not just for the mane, but because pyroar is 97.5% female — so this form is very rare! this pokedex entry really reminds me of laios:

The males are usually lazy, but when attacked by a strong foe, a male will protect its friends with no regard for its own safety.

braviary: represents the “eagle head” on his chimera form, and the idea of either a hippogriff or a griffin. braviary evolves extremely late in levels, so owning one is indicative of a lot of time put into training it. and i think laios would really enjoy searching for a shiny rufflet and training it for so long. braviary’s pokedex entries are extremely fitting for his personality, and they even have a connection to royalty, and sometimes even retaliate towards humans:

They fight for their friends without any thought about danger to themselves. One can carry a car while flying.

For the sake of its friends, this brave warrior of the sky will not stop battling, even if injured.

It's thought that people disturbed their habitats in the past, so Braviary banded together to fight back.

Known for its bravery and pride, this majestic Pokémon is often seen as a motif for various kinds of emblems.

hydreigon: not only a dragon, but one with multiple heads! i think laios would really personally resonate with the concept of the hydreigon line. because of this i can imagine himself dedicating himself to raising this “cool” dragon, not just because it’s cool, but because he understands “fighting with yourself/your desires”. on top of all of that, hydreigon have been known to destroy villages and resent human beings:

There are a slew of stories about villages that were destroyed by Hydreigon. It bites anything that moves.

It's said that Hydreigon grew ferocious because people in times long past loathed it, considering it to be evil incarnate and attacking it relentlessly.

It responds to movement by attacking. This scary, three-headed Pokémon devours everything in its path!

aegislash: it’s kensuke! this pokemon feels like it was basically made for laios, and reminds me of dungeon meshi in general. i mean, just look at these pokemon entries:

Apparently, it can detect the innate qualities of leadership. According to legend, whoever it recognizes is destined to become king.

Its potent spectral powers allow it to manipulate others. It once used its powers to force people and Pokémon to build a kingdom to its liking.

aegislash also reminds me of the winged lion, and is representative of not just laios’s eventual position as king, but also his “idealized” leadership as “dungeon master” over the course of the story.

now onto kabru!

as a trainer, in accordance to his position as laios's foil, i'd imagine that kabru would focus much less on pokemon battles and pokemon training. much like his lack of skill when it comes to exploring the dungeon, kabru is very people focused first, and i'd imagine his team is not very strong when it comes to battling... but i still wanted picks that would be indicative of who he is as a person. i'd like to think he acquired most of his pokemon not by the headstrong dedication towards exploration and catching that laios would have, but by making the right connections through trading and making bonds with other people. however, the few that he would have found on his own would be extremely special to him.

his pokemon

stufful: cute and unassuming on the surface, but secretly spiteful and aggressive underneath... it reminds me of kabru a lot. this is also the first in the start of a running theme of plush / toy-like pokemon i incorporated into his team, to represent his childhood being raised by misiril and treated like a "doll". kabru's childhood is something i find very few people take into consideration, but it really changes the way you look at his character...

A touch from anyone except a known friend sends it into a surging frenzy. It's an incredibly dangerous Pokémon. Its fluffy fur is a delight to pet, but carelessly reaching out to touch this Pokémon could result in painful retaliation.

mimikyu: another contribution to the doll-like theme of his team, but also is a pokemon that i feel is most representative of kabru's personality... someone who just wants to be loved and idolizes and takes after another, hiding behind a cute and nice mask, with an unending well of loneliness and a desire to be friends despite feeling like something evil. kabru talks about how he feels like a monster due to his lineage with misiril in his adventure's bible excerpt, and it's always struck powerfully with me. (as a result i can't stand when people make blue eyes jokes about him, lol.) he spends his entire adventure idolizing laios, just wanting to be his friend... (and secretly hating him.) to me, mimikyu is a perfect partner for kabru.

A lonely Pokémon, it conceals its terrifying appearance beneath an old rag so it can get closer to people and other Pokémon. It has taken damage and can no longer hold the head of its cloth disguise upright. For as long as it lives, Mimikyu will never forget its attacker.

mawile: meant to symbolize kabru's "two-faced"ness, and also just seemed like a type i thought he would enjoy. yet another cute looking pokemon to contribute to his team's theme, as well. this pokemon's dex entries mention how it uses it's cute facade to lure in other pokemon, and i thought that was fitting. i also thought it was nice that the jaws are actually horns, playing back into kabru's self-demonization.

Don't be taken in by this Pokémon's cute face—it's very dangerous. Mawile fools the foe into letting down its guard, then chomps down with its massive jaws. The steel jaws are really horns that have been transformed. It has two mouths. The big jaws on the back of its head can't taste anything, so that's the mouth it uses to eat foods it doesn't like.

espurr: a small and cute pokemon that reminded me of misiril, and kabru as a child. i also wanted to include it in order to make it clear that kabru wouldn't always care about fully evolving or training his pokemon, or using anything considered "strong" - since battling wouldn't be his expertise. this is yet another pokemon that seems docile but is secretly holding back dangerous power. i thought that he would resonate with this pokemon's blank and scary stare.

Though Espurr's expression never changes, behind that blank stare is an intense struggle to contain its devastating psychic power.

banette: next to mimikyu, i feel like this pokemon most accurately reflects kabru's past and personality. once again calling back to kabru's unhealthy childhood, and his treatment as an object. originally being a toy itself, banette holds strong grudges against those who have abandoned and wronged it.

An abandoned plush doll became this Pokémon. They are said to live in garbage dumps and wander about in search of the children that threw them away. It's a stuffed toy that was thrown away and became possessed, ever searching for the one who threw it away so it can exact its revenge. Resentment at being cast off made it spring into being. Some say that treating it well will satisfy it, and it will once more become a stuffed toy.

buneary: for his final team member, i knew from the outset that i wanted to include a buneary on his team. buneary is the only pokemon to start off with a base 0 happiness -- and as a result is an extremely hard pokemon to evolve! this also pairs well with the unique move of Frustration - a move that is more powerful the lower a pokemon's happiness. this seemed fitting. i wanted to keep it at a weak stage, but i also enjoy that it's a friendship evolution that he could slowly raise. i made this pokemon shiny partially because i just associate kabru with the color pink, but also because i thought it told a nice story. i liked the idea of kabru finding this equally battle-wary but extremely rare pokemon and slowly having it warm up to him over time, as he slowly learns to trust a "monster" he is somewhat wary of himself.

If both of Buneary's ears are rolled up, something is wrong with its body or mind. It's a sure sign the Pokémon is in need of care.

#dm #dungeon meshi #pokemon

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jo-harrington · 4 months

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As Above, So Below - Chapter 5: Via Domus

Previous Chapter: Chapter 4 - Malum Malus

Summary: You wake to find yourself in the Upside Down and discover a world-altering revelation.

Word Count: 13.8k

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

Warnings/Themes: Van Helsing Inspired, Kas!Eddie, Religious Themes, Criticism of Religion/Catholicism, Fate vs. Free Will, Death and Injury, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Mentions of Major Character Deaths, Grief, Mourning, Yearning, Discussion of the Upside Down, Supernatural Encounters, Angst, Smut, Fluff, Unprotected PinV Sex (he's undead it doesn't matter), Oral Sex (F Receiving), Bloodletting, Biblical and Other Literary/Media References

Note: Sorry this is a little late but this snow storm had my internet down right as I went to post. There isn't much to say but...this moment has been one 10 months in the making and I might not have edited it...but I don't care, I'm literally the proudest I can be. I'm sure there's people to tag and thank for their support. I'm so ready to sit back and reread this. I didn't write it; it just came through me like a prophecy. And that isn't condescending, it's the truth.

This series will not be for the faint of heart, nor is it something that was written with a general audience in mind. Please check the above warnings and ask yourself if you are in the correct headspace to proceed. I am happy to answer any questions via PM or Ask.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

“The devil doesn't come dressed in a red cape and pointy horns. He comes as everything you've ever wished for.” - Tucker Max, Assholes Finish First

November 6, 1983 October 15, 1987

Everything was wrong.

From a dreamless sleep, consciousness hit you like a freight train and drug you to the land of the living under its wheels, one painful mile at a time.

You were aware of every nerve, every bump and bruise, every cut.

Every bite.

Because surely there were more than just the ones on your throat now.

And when you finally opened your eyes, you burned.

Not just your body; the very essence of you sizzled and popped like hot oil in a pan.

It was overwhelming, overstimulating.

There was both an absence of feeling--of being--and an abundance of it.

Images flashed through your mind. Memories. And not just yours.

Leaving Hawkins the first time.

Kas, the brides, and their seduction and subsequent attack of you.

Billy--a different one than the one you knew now--screaming and clawing his way up a rickety wooden staircase while a creature lurked just out of sight below.

A man in tattered and bloodied white clothes, his skin burned and mottled. Blind in one eye. And a creature that met him and allowed him to--

The smell was next as you finally remembered to breathe. You swallowed great gulps of air then choked as they burned your lungs and tasted like a mix of wet, cloying mold and dry, putrid battery acid.

Finally, a high pitched ringing as your spirit finally settled back into yourself. You clenched and unclenched your hands--stretched your fingers and toes--to regain some kind of recognizable feeling back into them.

As you tried to recognize who you were now, in this body.

In this world.

Everything was wrong.

No...when you woke up, everything was different.

The first coherent thought through your head was that you were dead and this was surely hell. Proven not only by the pain and the affliction of your body and mind, but because the skies overhead flashed and burned bright red with infernal lightning.

The brides had drained you dry and this was your eternal punishment. It was the only explanation.

If you steeled yourself and turned your head, would you see your father's face--frozen in an eternal scream--staring at you?

You wrenched your eyes closed for a moment, steeled yourself to test the theory, and you winced as the bites on your neck pulled and stretched.

When you opened them again, you screamed. It was a weak, strangled sound, and echoed as you shuffled away as much as your sore body would allow.

It was not your father's face that you found beside you, but it was a face nonetheless.

Petrified.

Screaming.

Flesh half-rotting off a skull, petrified golden hair layered with soot and muck. There was a neck and torso too--arms--and the further you dragged your eyes down the body, the more decayed and damaged the bones became. The skin and flesh sloughed off.

Until they all tapered off--melted off--into bone, then into nothingness, where the ribs ended abruptly in a half-jagged, half-charred state.

It was where the ground ended too, the body teetering on the precipice.

"Mother...fuck..." you hissed and swallowed thickly.

You weakly melted into the ground again; your eyes slid shut so you could take stock of yourself once more.

Sluggishly, you returned to your senses. Head, torso, limbs all accounted for, even if they were a little worse for wear. You'd survive. You'd heal eventually...hopefully.

Before long, your abilities jumpstarted from cold at the proximity of a dead body. Great. Though you supposed you'd almost considered yourself grateful that they were returning, if not for the phantom fingers that scratched at the back of your mind; the lingering spirit that belonged to this body wanted to communicate but didn't quite know how.

You didn't have the patience to ferry the remnant of someone's soul closer towards consciousness right now.

But it was a reminder.

There were no bodies in Hell. No death in Hell.

For all intents and purposes, the damned would be considered alive.

So no, this wasn't Hell.

This was--

You forced your eyes back open and stared at the gaping, mangled maw of jagged walls that stretched and reached into the roiling, starless sky.

--an attic.

There were visible slats and support beams, boxes and furniture covered in sheets, and burnt, decayed vines clinging to the walls and along the floor. Most notable was the fact that the structure--this house--was simply broken. Shattered. Not only was the roof broken, as though a giant had torn into it--peeled the slats and shingles open and left them rent and tattered beneath their hands--to curiously peer inside, but the whole structure was as well.

The side of the floor you and the body were on tilted at an awkward angle; not unnavigable but still odd as you found the strength to hoist yourself to your feet and stumbled at the unevenness. Once you were upright, you could see the other side; across a strange valley that revealed broken beams and wide structural mouths that promised rooms below, there was a set of stairs that led downwards.

Uneasy with the minimal strength you currently possessed, you used your power to send some sort of signal down through the jagged, rotten foundation to ask the earth for help. And not just help, you asked for a sign of where you were and what happened to you. However, you were immediately turned away. A hiss at the back of your mind, that settled adjacent to that incessant scratching, warning you from trying again.

This earth was not like the earth you connected with regularly. It was incompatible with you, but only just so.

There was a blink of a thought in your head that you could make it bend to your will if you really wanted. If you were tempted enough.

But temptation was what got you here, wasn't it? Your jeans were still unbuttoned and you felt some kind of internal, medieval shame as you fixed them and fastened them back up. Shame, not only because the brides had fucked you if you could call it that, but because they'd gotten the better of you. They'd used your weaknesses against you--used Eddie against you--and now they'd stolen you away to the Upside Down.

That's what this place was right?

And it wasn't a stretch to guess the why's here either.

Kas had used them to bring you here so he could finally be rid of you.

Well, you weren't going to sit here and wait for your death like a lamb to the slaughter. If Kas wanted to kill you, you were gonna put up a fight.

The fires of wrath were stoked inside you and you let them restore your strength and fuel your journey onwards. You readied yourself to make the jump across the broken floor.

Suddenly, the scratching at the back of your mind got horribly loud. A voice, a young man's voice, strained and croaked inside of you.

"Help me. God, please help me."

The broken remnants of the being you'd woken beside finally found its voice.

You scowled as resentment decided to mingle with your wrath.

"No one's going to help you," you grunted and shuffled your foot into the side of its rib cage. You kicked the body into the gulch below and as you took your leap, you delighted in the sounds of the bones shattering as it impacted the ground below. "God is dead."

The descent was precarious.

Despite the strength you had gathered, your body ached and your movements were clumsy. It was like you left a part of yourself behind and struggled to continue without it. Additionally, as you progressed along the path, you found that the house itself was broken in ways that defied logic.

Hallways switched back upon themselves or dropped down into a deep burning abyss, floors tilted upwards and then stopped abruptly, doors opened to brick walls, and then, your favorite, a ticking grandfather clock seemingly floated in the air on its own.

Did physics exist in the Upside Down? Gravity? Or was it like Superman, where differences developed without the interference of a certain color sun?

Eventually you made it to what you believed to be the ground floor, and although there was a looming sense of dread that only got worse the further along you walked, your footsteps felt sure and stable. It felt better, safer.

There was a crack in one of the walls you passed where you spotted the shadow of tree limbs, and just up ahead you could see the sky over a half-demolished wall.

Once you rounded this corner and that to reach your supposed freedom, you found yourself faced with what could only be described as an altar. Some site of a wicked ceremony. The walls of the house split open and revealed the expansive red and grey waste of the outdoors, but instead of finding dead grass and trees like you thought, there were structures made of stone and vines and twisted tentacles, just like you remembered from the tunnels.

Towers.

Stalagmites.

Pillars.

Something rustled behind you and you turned on your heel to find the source of the noise, only to find the dank hall you'd just exited empty. It rustled behind you again and you spun back to face the pillars, but you were still alone.

You were being taunted now, teased. Surely that was it, wasn't it? This was a game; you survived the pitfalls and traps of this nightmarish house and now the hunt was truly on?

"I know you like to play with your food motherfucker," you hissed aloud. "Let's play."

You progressed confidently, unwilling to let yourself falter as the ground underfoot transitioned from wooden floorboards to decorative checker tile to uneven earth and the air became heavy with ominous anticipation.

Despite that, you took a moment to inspect the pillars as you passed them, only to be met with an even stranger sight.

Chrissy. Fred. Patrick.

They were eerily still, petrified even; faces serene, as though they were sleeping. The pillars seemed to encapsulate them; a wing melted into the stone here, claws elongated into branches there.

There were four pillars...but three Brides.

You vaguely recalled a flash of Max's memories, of her running through a red landscape almost exactly like this; you took the chance and reached out to touch the empty pillar, only for your suspicions to be confirmed. It was meant for her. The pillars were the final resting places for all four of the victim's of Vecna's curse.

A place for their bodies to be displayed like trophies, signifying his triumph.

It was a sickening thought, but brought about further revelation that this place didn't belong to Kas, but the Lich himself.

The Creel House.

"I was right," you huffed a small laugh of victory. Your hunt for Kas had led here; if only fate hadn't tempted you off the path to the cemetery, you would have been that much closer to defeating Kas now.

Fresh off a small win and with your body primed for psychometry, you moved and touched each pillar curiously. You witnessed each Bride's transition from the husk of a body to the monstrous beings they were now. They hadn't meant to be the puppets of an atrocious master when they were resurrected; it had all been done in an act of defiance. Their forms had been carefully crafted by his clawed hands, and life breathed back into them by a hopeful heart.

That heart was broken here too; those same clawed hands were formed on the very floor behind you...

"No," you tried to shake the thought off you. You didn't want that; didn't need that. Didn't need to empathize with Kas...right?

Still...the intrusion continued.

You wanted to connect to this earth didn't you? So you must gain all manner of information, whether you want it or not.

More images flashed against your will; you didn't need to touch the silt and soil beneath your feet for it to reach out and touch you. The blood that soaked this ground leeched up from the depths to provide you hair-raising clarity of the brutality committed a mere few feet from where you stood. No care had been taken when a body on the brink of death was implanted with bones and teeth and claws. You watched the flashes in unblinking horror until screams suddenly echoed in your ears, terrible and ear-splitting; you were witnessing a transformation--a metamorphosis--from something to nothing then back to something again.

"No!" you shouted and your voice echoed, into the eerie night. Wings flapped and a creature roared in the distance. The images fled along with them, and you heaved several labored breaths as you settled back into yourself.

There was a rustle behind you again, and you froze; you were so lost by the intrusion of the birth of a monster in your mind that you didn't notice said monster approach you.

This was it.

You'd faced monsters before, countless times. Of course, you'd always been armed with weapons, your powers. Now you'd been stripped bare; the brides had rid you of your weapons, and this dastardly dimension had denied you access to many of your abilities as you recovered from your weakened state.

Unless they were useful to the Upside Down itself, so it seemed.

Still, your eyes honed in on a glint of silver beside you. Brilliant amongst the squalor of the Upside Down and folded neatly in Chrissy's claws that rested across her chest:

Your crucifix.

Your hand shot towards the cross of its own volition, but as your fingers caressed the carved hyacinths, you suddenly doubted yourself.

Was Chrissy's grasp on it truly that strong or was it just a trick of the mind? If you couldn't even resist her and Patrick...how could you possibly fight Kas?

Except, you'd already fought Kas hadn't you? Already got the one-up on him. That's why he'd relied on so many cheap shots to get to you. You would make it through this, with your teeth gnashing, your bare hands, and your raw faith. Or you would die trying.

"Lord, I am not worthy to receive you," you whispered as you pried the relic out of the harpy's hands. "But only say the word and my soul shall be healed."

Footsteps slunk closer to you, audibly clearer now, and you readied yourself, focused on all the holy light within the sludge of your corruptible human body. When they finally stopped just inches behind you, you could feel cold breath cascade over you, and you knew it was time.

You pivoted on your heel, sneakers crunching the ground beneath them into dust, and you raised your hand to brandish your cross at your assailant. His hand clashed against its other side and stopped it dead between both of your faces; your eyes went wide as he gripped it tight and it burst into flames in front of your eyes.

You wrenched your hand away and backed into Chrissy's body as Kas let out a mighty, wretched wail.

You were so singularly focused--horrified--as you watched the symbol of your family's legacy burn and melt in his hands, so expectant of his form being consumed by holy flames as he crumpled and bent at the waist and screamed in agony, that you didn't really look at him until it was too late.

The fire extinguished suddenly and Kas flung the remnants of your crucifix to the side, and as he stood, you could feel all the blood rush to your head. There was a buzzing in your ears and you swore the dark circles that crowded your vision were only to spare you from the sight.

Whatever vision you had in your head of Kas was gone...and in its place was suddenly something both old and new at the same time.

There was a smirk carved into his face, so smug and triumphant, and made only more pronounced by the deep scars that went from the corners of his mouth and back along his jaw towards his ears. Still, his enticing lips twitched, failing to bely a smile. His deep eyes were locked with yours, abyss-like, but warm and welcoming in this otherwise unforgiving world as he stared at you with a fondness that you couldn't fathom.

He was tall--taller than you remembered--and even taller still as your legs failed you and you collapsed to your knees before him; he took two rapid steps forward, hands stretched out as though he would try to catch you before you hit the ground. All you could focus on were the sharpened, blood-stained points of his fingers though, and when you flinched as they got too close for comfort, he stopped in his tracks.

Your breathing got heavy and your shoulders and chest heaved the longer you witnessed him. Because it truly was the witnessing of something beautiful and terrible, wasn't it? Something you'd wished for over and over again until you simply couldn't take it anymore.

"No, no, no," you couldn't stop your mouth from its fumbling repetition. "Nononono. No. N-no, no, no!" Over again the word erupted from you until you were shouting. Until you were sobbing.

You covered your eyes with one hand to stop yourself from seeing, and your mouth with the other to keep what remained of your soul from spilling out.

You shook with grief--three years worth of grief that only became more surmountable with each day that passed--then anger.

How dare he, how dare Kas use this final thing against you, how dare you let him?

But that was just an excuse wasn't it? Some kind of excuse so you wouldn't have to face the reality that was just on the other side of your hands. One that you would cling onto to help your poor heart survive.

You would deny it, until you couldn't any longer.

"Sweetheart." You shook your head at the decadent rasp of his voice; your ears strained to catch more but you couldn't handle it. Tears began to leak from your eyes and collect in the creases of your fingers as you pressed them harder into your face. "Angel, please."

The urge to roll your eyes at the ironic nickname battled against the need to bask in it.

You could feel him get closer, feel his massive form invade your space. Your aura buzzed excitedly as it brushed against his with the proximity and your heart beat in your ears; your body knew what your mind refused to accept. It made you feel lightheaded.

Don't fucking pass out.

The claws worked their way beneath your fingers and you resisted as much as you could until you simply couldn't hold on any longer.

And once they were away, there was nothing that you could have done to stop yourself from responding to him.

The you that you had been just seconds earlier no longer existed. That being, forged by resentment and pain and grief and the will to succeed beyond all hope, was torn apart by those claws--gently peeled apart bit by bit--and as your eyes opened, you were suddenly the you that you were before. Or maybe, more accurately, the you that you were beside everything.

Despite everything.

The being that only existed with him.

You.

You were here with him.

Eddie.

And he was here with you.

Alone together and together alone.

No one else existed but the two of you as you opened your eyes and your gaze washed over him once again.

Lightning flashed overhead as you absorbed the sight before you.

Hands. Eddie's hands. Calloused from hours of guitar playing and scarred from that one time he got too eager pulling a stouffer's lasagna out of the oven and forgot the gloves. Only now they were scarred further, with lines along his phalanges and razor-sharp talons at the tips of them.

Hair. Eddie's hair. Soft and curled just so and sometimes shiny, but oftentimes just a frizzy mess from head banging so hard. It would get in his mouth, leaving him spitting and sputtering as he got some idea mid-headbang. Only now it was held up and out of his face by a fluffy green scrunchie, and only his bangs and a few loose pieces framed his features.

Face. Eddie's face. One that looked at you with so much relief and gentle love. Your memories couldn't hold a candle to having him here. Your eyes went blurry with tears again at the fact that he was actually here just inches from you. His eyes and lashes and his round nose and his kissable lips. Lips you needed to kiss like you needed air. Only those lips started to move to form words again and as they did, you spotted the sharp tips of fangs.

He looked the same, exactly the same...but simultaneously different in every way that counted.

Time stopped.

You thought about being in the trailer with Chrissy and Patrick, all the words that you had excused in the moment, as you allowed yourself to be tempted by Kas.

In actuality...had it really been Eddie? Words that had been borderline insidious suddenly took on a much more intimate connotation.

"You're not real." You breathed shakily, one last attempt at pulling back the veil at some trick of the mind. "I can't...I can't..."

On the other hand, you remembered the graveyard, the way Eddie had been there in a way...beyond your sight, refusing to be seen by you. Refusing to be known by you. And again countless other times. Including the day he'd...

"I can't look at you," you said weakly. "I'm not supposed to look at you."

What had he said to you then? That he'd never really left? That he would wait...as long as it took...and here he was now. That hadn't been Eddie; how could this suddenly be him? He was...

"And why not?" he chuckled gently. "I think we both deserved to see one another; I've crossed the oceans of time just to see you again."

"That's..." you stared at him in disbelief. Tremors wracked your body and his gaze went from fond to worried again.

Your mind went a mile a minute trying to come up with something, some way to deny all of this. Rapid fire, you thought. About Vecna and the Upside Down and the earthquakes. You thought about Wayne and Dustin and Max. Over and over, ideas flashed as all the pieces finally clicked together. Vampires that weren't vampires, and the Brides; the trailer and the visions and the grave and...and...and...

He was alive.

"That's..." You began to laugh, the small shakes of a giggle turning into big, bright guffaws that shook you. You grabbed his face with your hands and squished his cheeks together, gleefully watching as it smooshed and shifted in the way only his play-doh-like features could. "That's not the quote, you big dumb idiot."

Home had been an abstract concept for you for some time.

For most of your life, when you thought of home, you thought of your Nonna's house. Her flat, just downstairs from yours; you spent most nights there anyway, your father's childhood bedroom repurposed for you. You had a home in the dinners you'd cooked together and late nights where you'd watch Johnny Carson until it was time to hold hands and pray together before bed. Home meant turning the key in the lock of her door and her giving you big cheek kisses.

Tesoro di Nonna.

Her treasure. She was your treasure too, your best friend, but she, herself, was not your home. At least not anymore.

You found that when you came to Hawkins. When you met Eddie. From the moment you met him, he had been that warm place of comfort and love. When you left, and even when you believed him to be dead, going home meant returning to Hawkins.

Returning to him.

So when you both overcame the euphoria which accompanied the realization that you had found each other once again, and he said "let's go home," you knew that there wasn't far to go.

You were already there.

There was something about returning home after a long time away, though. Things changed and it didn't take very long for you to notice the changes in Eddie.

He held your hand as you walked through the barren waste of the Upside Down, and it was actually quite a long walk. Practically across the entirety of Hawkins, and you were truly in awe that it actually was Hawkins. You walked down familiar streets, through the town center that was fully intact unlike its decimated state in the real world, and Eddie even pointed out the windows of your old apartment over the deli, as if you forgot.

Very few words were shared between you at first, aside from short and fond little tidbits to reminisce old times spend together--something that you'd constantly been doing since your return; your heart ached to think that your ghost had followed him around, both in Hawkins and here, reminding him that you'd left him to this fate.

There was not much more conversation than that though, and while you basked in the sweet memories, especially being reunited, you couldn't help but wonder why he was so...uncharacteristically quiet. The Eddie you knew was never at a loss for words; why was he holding back asking you questions? Telling you how much he missed you?

You held back your own thoughts, questions, and admissions too if you were being honest. Something about being so open in this dimension, something about the strange din of silence due to the lack of life made you feel...strange.

You wondered if he felt the same way?

If you could feel the creatures that shuffled just out of your line of sight, given what you knew about the hive mind that existed between them, you knew Eddie could as well.

But if that was the case, he didn't show it. You supposed Kas he was the master of this realm; he didn't need to be afraid of it.

In fact, the more you observed him, the more you noticed how at ease he was here. He'd always been confident walking around Hawkins, shoulders straight and head held high despite the suspicious stares and whispers that seemed to follow him just because his last name was Munson. But now Hawkins--the Upside Down--seemed to bend to him the further you walked, proving his mastery over it.

Down one street, the tentacle vines slithered and shifted as Eddie led you ahead, and when you dared to look back they returned to their original places. Shadows at the corners of your eyes shifted as he pointed something out to you with a fond smile and a laugh. Finally, when you reached the woods, gnarled and dark as they were, his presence seemed to cause a group of bats that had been resting there to stir.

Instinctually, you flinched, divine sense tingling in response to their unnatural energy as they began to fly overhead; Eddie even squeezed your hand to calm you down, but your defenses were up now. You readied yourself for an attack as they circled and swooped down a little too close for comfort.

You watched, dumbstruck, as Eddie tsked and then reached up with his free hand; one of the bats got lower and its many flailing tails brushed against his fingertips before it screeched and then soared away. You felt that there was something more to it, though; there was something else there as his fingers twitched against them.

A yearning, maybe; a desire to...what? Join them?

"It's alright," he reassured you softly, an undertone of happiness in his voice. "See, they're harmless."

"Harmless?" you scoffed in disbelief, having witnessed their devastation first hand. He looked back towards you and lowered his arm, brow furrowed in confusion at your tone; you felt a strange rumble, an undercurrent, just beneath the surface of his skin as he flexed his hand around yours again. "I..."

"Sweetheart. Just trust me. What are you--"

Like that, the illusion was broken.

It hadn't taken that long. A couple of hours, mostly spent in silence and the overwhelming awe of being in one another's presence again, but suddenly you realized he was different.

Of course, you were different too.

You never really fathomed a moment like this; you'd always thought--hoped--you'd be reunited in Heaven. That everything would work itself out there. All wounds healed, all sins forgiven.

But this was not Heaven, and you'd never imagined your reunion like this.

You looked at him again, really looked at him this time. Tried to look past your Eddie, to see what had become of him here in the Upside Down. You started with his hands, the long scars you noticed just a short while ago, and you traced a finger along them. It was almost cathartic as you felt a phantom ache in your own hand, as you began to truly digest and understand what had happened to him.

Dustin had refused to tell you...and with good reason.

The ache burned through you the further you went. His arm was covered with the sleeve of his leather jacket, but still your fingers traveled, touch penetrating the worn leather; he looked and felt...bulkier somehow. Even his skin looked too tight on him. Gone was your noodley, human boyfriend and in his place...something else. Broader shoulders, a thicker torso, and a slightly elongated neck that proudly bore scars as well.

Just like your own bites, you thought, as Eddie's aches were momentarily replaced by your own. You both displayed the healed remnants of shredded, devoured flesh.

The memory of the pain they once brought him practically sang through his skin the further you went and you couldn't help but listen and absorb it. Unlike your scars, even the most recent ones from the Brides, that had been the product of your will to survive, Eddie's were the evidence of something dastardly that sought to destroy and consume. In fact, they had succeeded; you felt the burn of a thousand mouths filled with sharp little teeth ripping through flesh. Ripping through his flesh.

The longer you held on, the more you felt and understood. Mouths led to claws, consumption turned to torture, and eventually he was ripped further--pulled apart--until he was left broken, raw, and screaming.

Just like you'd seen back at the Creel House.

Vecna cut him open and emptied everything that made him him, and filled him with darkness and malice and--

You wrenched your hands away from his and rubbed them together as they tingled, suddenly numb. All of the echoes of his pain vanished and instead you just felt...conflict.

"What's wrong?" Eddie stepped closer, worry etched deeper creases into his face now. "What did you do?"

"I--" you flinched away from him and he paused.

This wasn't just Eddie anymore, your Eddie who survived a few scrapes and bruises and came out of any conflict--large or small--with a few choice words for his assailant and a story to tell.

This was Kas, forged through the burning flames of Hell to fight. To destroy.

And if not by name, then by acts.

Acts done with Vecna's influence, at first, and now atrocities in their own right.

Eddie always knew when your mind buzzed with a thousand thoughts; he'd say that you were thinking too loud. Time hadn't changed that, it seemed. He still knew exactly how to read you.

"Listen," he started carefully, treating you like a spooked animal because that's exactly what you were. "I know you have questions. We just need to get home first."

Unfortunately, you were also a stubborn piece of shit.

"Where is home?" you questioned. "What...Eddie...how?"

"I'll tell you everything," he promised. "But you're hurt...and I'm sure you're hungry. Thirsty? I could only bring you so far before--"

"Before?" you urged.

"The hungrier I get," he began. "The harder it is to control everything. Control myself. I couldn't be around you like that. But now you're awake...and I have to get you home. We need...to get home..."

You wanted him to explain it all to you; you'd seen the fangs, witnessed the Brides and other vampires feeding, it wasn't a secret that he must hunger for blood too. You just needed more. But he needed something too. There was a singular, desperate focus that edged his words--the need to get you home, get you safe--and you knew you weren't going to get answers unless you obliged his request.

If he could be patient...so could you.

You gestured ahead and the two of you continued your journey.

However, you made sure to keep your hands to yourself this time, unwilling to inadvertantly see more of his becoming, and Eddie clearly noticed.

"My hand is pretty cold," he said after a short stretch of silence. His eyes slid over to you and he wiggled his fingers. "Sure is a shame that there's nothing to warm it up."

You scoffed and your heart ached; this was how he got you to hold his hand in your coat pocket during the winter as you'd venture out and about. It was his thing, refusing to wear his gloves so he wouldn't fumble with them when he wanted to smoke, while also taking the opportunity to feel your hand against his.

It was one of your favorite bits of attention that he gave you; he was still your Eddie. You knew that, and deep down inside you only wanted to know that.

But things were different.

"Ed--"

"What? You don't love me anymore or something?" he teased; however, when he glanced over at you, there was a real worry in his eyes. "Don't want to hold my hand? Hmm? That it?"

"Come on," you scoffed. "Don't. You just said we'd talk once we got home, wherever home is. We've been walking forever."

"Well we're not there yet," he bristled and laughed; it was a bitter, condescending chuckle. One you'd never heard come out of him before; not to you, at least.

"Can't you just tell me where we're going? To...Rick's or..."

"It isn't in Hawkins."

"You can't expect us to walk to Muncie," you attempted a joke.

There was a tense pause and he turned his head downward and quickened his pace.

"Don't worry," he said, tone stiff. "We're almost there."

The confidence you'd noticed earlier was suddenly gone, and as he walked, he seemed to make himself smaller.

You really fucked this up.

You tried to reach out for him, abandoning your resolve of keeping him at arms length, but he failed to notice.

He just kept walking.

Before long, the town seemed to melt away.

Everything did.

Gone were the buildings, the trees, even the roads. Until there was a vast grey nothingness, accentuated by floating particles and a swirling, cursed sky. If you thought the Upside Down was a wasteland before, this only solidified that thought.

After some time, even looking back didn't seem to help things; there were no milestones that you could ascertain. Just flat terrain, the sky, and the horizon.

And Eddie.

You tried to stave away the hateful thoughts that this was a trap, that there really was a Kas out there and he was manipulating you again. Or, even worse, that Eddie was the one manipulating you.

What good did those thoughts do? Except negate the elation that still bubbled hopefully within you, elation you were also trying to hold back.

You were here now; he could kill you any time if he wanted. You weren't dead. Yet.

Lost in thought, you failed to notice that he stopped, and you walked right into his back. You shook yourself off and stepped around him, only to find a decrepit-looking ranch-style house. The attached carport's roof was partially collapsed, the siding a little cockeyed, and the mailbox was broken; it looked unremarkable, and still...

"We're here," he pressed his lips together and gestured towards the house. "Home sweet home."

"I don't recognize this place," you remarked as he led you forward.

"You wouldn't," he shook his head. "I never brought you here; it doesn't exist anymore, actually. They tore it down to build some fancy condos in...what...80? 81? Only place you're gonna find it now is up here."

He tapped against the side of his head and then waved his hand around.

"This is what it looked like the last time I saw it. Broken, a little sad. Right before it came down.”

"Why is it here then?" you asked.

He sighed and looked around.

"Let's just get inside."

The interior of the house was worlds different.

Well...comparatively.

It was bigger on the inside, the walls somehow taller than they had been just moments before you stepped through the threshold. You entered into an open concept living room that was attached to the kitchen, not unlike the trailer. Both rooms were wood paneled and there was a carpet that was split-pea green, making the already drab atmosphere darker.

Eddie brushed past you to get to the kitchen and you moved ahead to the sofa, weariness of the day finally catching up to you. You collapsed onto the brown faux-suede loveseat and laid your head against the granny-square blanket that was draped over the back; beneath the musty, mildewy smell of the Upside Down, you could faintly detect something lighter and sweeter.

Your mom wore orange blossom perfume just like this. Aqua Manda. Your father brought a bottle home for her on her birthday one year.

You cleared your throat and chalked it up to a trick of the mind; you were tired and hurt, of course little things like that would escape your psyche.

Eddie shuffled around in the kitchen for a few minutes and when returned, his hands were filled with packaged snack cakes, a six-pack of grape crush, a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, and a roll of cloth bandages. He fell onto the loveseat beside you and dropped his plunder between you.

"Wayne," he stated simply and gestured to everything, as though that explained it. Maybe it did, to him; on your walk you figured that everyone knew that Eddie was here and alive, Wayne included. It didn't make you as angry as you expected yourself to be. Not as angry as you'd been when you read about Kas in the Dungeon Master's Guide.

What use was it to get angry, when you just wanted answers?

You stared at Eddie expectantly, hoping that he would start talking, but instead, he moved to pick a package of Raspberry Zingers from between you. You watched, in slight awe, as he flicked his thumb against the plastic and the sharpness of his claw sliced through it quicker than any knife. He did the same with one of the pop cans, puncturing the aluminum instead of using the tab.

You, knowing these were some of his favorites and having seen him inhale more of the sweet treats than you dared count, expected him to tuck in. Instead he placed the open package and can in your hands with a longing look, careful not to touch your skin, before he went on to unwrap the bandages.

You said his name gently and he ignored you.

"Eddie," you dropped the zingers and grabbed his hand to stop him. He was the one to flinch now, but regardless, he looked you in the eye. "I need you...to tell me where we are, and tell me what's going on. Everything. We're here now...you promised."

His eyes darted between yours rapidly; if he felt that your thoughts were loud before, his were blaring right now. Broadcasting panic and worry; confusion as to what to say and where to begin.

He opened his mouth and inhaled, but his sharp fangs glinted in the low light of the room and your gaze, naturally, was drawn to them. He planted a hand over his mouth and after a second, rubbed over the scars that stretched over his cheeks.

Finally his hand dropped to his lap and he shifted in his seat; he leant back against the cushions and got comfortable.

"Before I lived with Wayne," he started, "before mom died, we lived here. It wasn't big; big enough for the two of us, a little less when my dad was still out. Everything looks a little bigger, but I guess everything does when you're younger. This...this is just how I remember it.

"That's what this place runs on. Memories. Feelings. It...generates them but also cannibalizes them. Nancy Wheeler said something...before...about it actually being 1983 here. Really, it can be any place and time you want. Henry...Vecna...showed me that. So when I started needing space...away from him, I came as far as I could past the outer limits of Hawkins and I made this place. Where he would have a harder time finding me. Where I could be alone.

"With you."

"Me?" you questioned.

"I can't explain it," he shook his head. "I can't explain any of it. It's...fuzzy. Who I am now...and who I was before...I'm not the same person.

"I was hurt so badly when you left...I thought I hated you for a while. But then...you were there, in everything I did. I had hope because you gave me hope Sweetheart. Every day I thought about getting in that van and...finding a way to find you. Some way. But I had patience and I could wait for you to come back. On the toughest days, though, you were there. You were there when the blankets on the bed felt especially warm. Or the frozen lasagna I put in the oven tasted especially cheesy. Or when I'd have a bad dream and go to get cookies out of the cupboard. You were there, and it was ok. I could hold on until you made it back to me.

"You were even out there at Skull Rock with me," he smiled. "The night...after Patrick died. I was wet and cold and so god damn traumatized and when I closed my eyes, I swore I could feel you there. I heard you tell me it would all be alright. You're the reason I didn't give up."

You knew that feeling well; more than you could really put to words.

He went on and gave you his account, his perspective and feelings, about what happened last year. Told you about witnessing Chrissy and Patrick's deaths, about running and hiding, about being hunted. He stopped to make a joke about how brave “the kids” were, braver than he was. And then his tone turned fearful and distant when he explained how he decided to be brave for them in return, brave for Dustin.

You of course knew some, but hearing all of it, especially the role he played in it all, was devastating. The what-if's returned; what if you hadn't left, what if you could have been here to save him--save all of them--what if he hadn't died. Of course the last one was void now. Still, as he closed his eyes in pain and you felt it choke you up as his emotions projected outwards again—voluntarily this time, instead of you plucking pieces off of him—you thought:

What if you could have spared him this suffering?

"He took everything," Eddie whispered. "I thought the bats were bad enough. The pain. They were just hungry but the pain. The others were supposed to kill him, to chop his head off or something, and the bats fell and the pain stopped. It was supposed to be over.

"But then he found me."

"Vecna."

"I thought I was a goner," he bared his teeth painfully, somewhere between a grimace and a smile really. "Death took forever, sweetheart. I do not recommend it. Not a bit. I don't even think I died. One minute Henderson was crying over me and the next, Vecna was tearing through my head. I always thought...well, you know when Obi-Wan tells the storm trooper these are not the droids you're looking for? I thought that I could resist that. Turns out, I was just as weak-minded as the rest of them."

He recounted his torture, the mental and the physical, and you felt it again. More acutely this time. His memories projected onto you felt fuzzy and strange, though, as if he hadn't even been there for it all himself. You recognized, through the echoes of agony, that was only so much the human mind could take, and Eddie toed the line of survival through sheer luck. He had gone through Hell, and came out alive in the end; how had he done it?

"It's because I had you," he explained. He leant in closer, voice hushed like he had a secret; he made the edges of your being feel tingly with his proximity. "Just like I told you. You were there; I know it. I held on because of you."

"Please, Eddie," you whispered. Please...what? You didn't know.

Please don't try to lessen the guilt.

Please don't try to make you feel better that you left him to this fate.

"It's true," he continued. "Vecna could take everything away. Made me hate everything, everyone. Made me kill for him. He made me his monster, his beast, his weapon..."

You swallowed painfully. How karmically poetic; a weapon of good and a weapon of evil...in love.

Fate was cruel.

"...But he could never take you away from me."

You saw it then, a flash. Some recollection of his, some coping mechanism that he'd used to survive. You saw through Eddie's eyes, felt his body; there was something quite...off about him. Shoulders broader, arms longer, fingers wet with blood.

Wings? You could feel them jutting from his shoulder blades. But he didn't have wings...

And in front of him, instead of some poor innocent soul...there you were. Strange, once again, seeing a version of you that you didn't recognize. She looked...younger...more lively than the one you saw in Billy's mind. She was smiling, eyes bright.

Speaking of eyes, you could see his reflection in your own eyes; you strained to decipher it, because it simply did not look like Eddie.

Not the Eddie of your memory. Not the Eddie who sat before you now.

You gasped and it was gone, and you were back in the living room with Eddie again. You stared at him, really took stock of him, trying to reconcile the different images of him that floated in your mind to truly accept who he was in front of you.

Broken but seemingly still whole. Alive.

Human...but not.

And that's what made you hesitate.

"Eddie," you licked your lips nervously. "Dustin said...that you couldn't leave." His brow twitched.

"I can't," he answered through gritted teeth, entire demeanor changing in the blink of an eye. He clenched and unclenched his hands, grasping at something that was beyond the fabric of reality. "I'm stuck here."

"Do you know why?"

"No. It's driving me crazy; I just want...to leave. Vecna couldn't leave either. He needed Max."

He noticed the way you stiffened at his words and his eyes went wide with fear. All of the tension that had built up within him was released again and he held his hands out to prove he was harmless.

"I don't...I'm not...I don't think that's what it is for me. The Upside Down doesn't want me to leave; I'm just not strong enough somehow. Not ready. I feel like...if I can figure out what I need, it'll let me go. I just don't know what that is.

"I did enough to save lil Red, though, twice," he ran a finger over his heart in a cross, in promise. "Not gonna just throw that all away and kill her."

"She's afraid that you are."

"Well, you'll just tell her I'm not."

"You've killed other people though," you rebuffed, almost too quickly.

It was at the forefront of your mind. Your dumb boyfriend who fed stray cats and raccoons around the trailer park...ordering an army of dark creatures to kill; it didn't make sense.

"You've killed too," he scoffed, a challenge in his eyes. "Don't act like I haven't watched you out there, angel. I've seen everything; this whole time."

"I thought you were a vicious monster," you argued.

"Who says I'm not?" That threw you for a loop. "I've told you my story, it's your turn now."

"No, we're not done with you," you reached across and jabbed a finger into his chest. "You send the bats...the Brides--nice name by the way--" You sneered sarcastically.

"Thanks," he grinned widely. "Got it all from Sven."

"--into Hawkins every day to feed. To kill."

That made him falter.

"No," he denied. "Not every day."

"Every day."

"Every three days, every week. Not every day."

"Tell me how that's possible," you narrowed your eyes. "When your friends back in Hawkins have gone out every day since I've been back for their clean up brigade, and they've been attacked every time. I've heard about it and I've seen it."

Eddie got quiet; he blinked once and his eyes became unfocused. He stared through you for what felt like ages and at some point you contemplated waving a hand in front of his face to get him to come back to you. You were about to raise your hand to do just that when a thin, opaque membrane slid sideways across his eyes, and then retracted back into the corners of them.

You thought it was a trick of the low light for a moment, then it happened again. A blink, just like a bird did with their third eyelid.

"What the fu--"

"They haven't," he interrupted you, consciousness casually sliding back into his body like he hadn't just vacated it. "They've only been leaving through the gates when I tell them to. It's been three days."

He shifted and shook the sleeve of his jacket further up his arm to reveal his wrist, then carefully unfastened the watch that sat there.

"They need to feed," he explained as he fiddled with the buttons. "I need...I need to feed again too. Otherwise I don't have control. And I need to be able to control them. They take their fill, and whatever they can spare, they bring to me. Since I can't leave. What uh...what day is it?"

"The fifteenth," you answered stiffly.

"Of?"

"...October."

"Hmmm..."

"What?"

"Guess I hadn't...nevermind." He cleared his throat. His hand shot out and grasped your wrist, then he carefully fastened the watch on your arm. "There. They're supposed to go out tonight and then you can see for yourself. Three days. Wayne will be by then too; I'll ask him to bring you your things. I know you left them behind."

"Because you...because your Brides cornered me...they...Fred...Chrissy...ugh..." You wrenched your hand from his grasp and scrubbed them over your face. "I...Eddie...I need to know why...why you---"

"I think I've told you enough," he interjected with an air of finality. "I've been trying to get to you, trying to find you, ever since I saw you back in Hawkins through their eyes. And now you're here with me where you belong, and it's time I got some answers too, sweetheart. It's been long enough. I deserve to know the truth."

So you told him.

Eddie was right, he deserved to know the truth, and you'd been itching to tell him since the moment he kissed you after your very first date.

Now was the chance to get it all off your chest.

You told him everything, and not just the condensed version that you told Mary Victoria. You bared your cursed soul to, probably, the only person on earth that had ever seen you. Really and truly seen you.

Despite all that time apart, he still saw you as though no time had passed at all.

He had no qualms interjecting when you told him about your family history and about the curse. He questioned everything and you had no doubt that if it wasn't for the conditions you were in now--if life had not been as cruel to the two of you as it had been--he would have had his Hellfire notebook open and been furiously writing ideas for his next campaign.

Better yet, he would be the one figuring out the way to break it. He would have every fantasy book from the Hawkins Library checked out and spread across the floor, just to save you.

When you got to the more contemporary parts of your story, when you filled in all the gaps in your life that you left when he first got to know you, he was pensive and empathetically quiet. He still made his little jokes here and there, tried to make you laugh at the parts where all you wanted to do was cry, and he didn't hesitate to bridge the gap and hold your hand when you needed to find the strength to keep going.

And keep going was all you did.

For hours.

You told him about every monster you faced, every demise you escaped, every person who used you as a tool and held your salvation over your head to get you to act on their behalf.

Your story couldn't hold a candle to his when it came to personal agony, but he made you feel like everything you'd endured was just as soul-splitting.

Maybe it was.

But this...getting everything out in the open...it was so freeing.

Gone were the shadowy secrets that lurked in the corners of your mind, gone was all the doubt you felt in yourself.

You cracked your chest open, pried out every rusting nail you had driven into you to keep it shut, and let Eddie see all of you--see your heart--and still he stared at you with awe and resplendent devotion in his eyes.

Just like he always had.

"Not gonna lie sweetheart," he started once you'd reached a lull in the story. "That was all, uh...pretty fucking metal."

"Fuck you," you slapped the back of your hand against his chest.

"All this time you let me go on about demons and the devil and Hellfire," his tone was teasing and a smile threatened the corners of his mouth; he couldn't fight it for long and neither could you. "And really you were out here studying the Lesser Key of Solomon and the Necronomicon for fun?"

"Not for fun. For survival" He grabbed your hand and held it against his chest, used his leverage to tug you closer. He stared at you in awe.

"My girlfriend! A real life paladin!"

"God damn it Eddie!" You giggled.

"Protecting the masses, no wonder you wanted to play as a rogue, you would have been bored as a paladin. Can you smite people?"

"I swear to--yes, I guess so."

"So many secrets! And then you told me all of your little stories and lessons--"

"Eddie I swear.”

"--let me believe you fucked the Mothman?"

"Excuse me," you erupted into a cackle. "You came to that conclusion all on your own."

He stared at you with hooded eyes and a fond gaze, humming his doubt.

You shifted the hand that he held, moved your palm across his chest from over his jacket to the thin, threadbare t-shirt he wore underneath. At first, you felt for his heartbeat, to reassure you one last time that it was really him...that he was really alive.

It was a flutter, but it was there. A soft thum pum, thum pum that transferred from his chilled skin, through the shirt, and into yours. His hand enclosed your wrist and squeezed tightly, and you wondered if he was doing the same. Feeling your pulse, making sure you were really there too.

He huffed a breath as you shifted closer; your fingers brushed against something hard that was just under the collar of the shirt as you had made your little search, and upon closer inspection, you discovered a cross on a silver chain.

Your necklace.

"You kept it?" you asked.

"Mmhmm." You shook his hand off your wrist and you ran your thumb over the tiny metal flowers; your crucifix might have been gone but this was still here. "The day you left...I was so upset I threw it. Threw it in some random corner of the trailer. When I realized that it was one of the last things I had left of you I went to try and find it, only to realize it was gone. I kicked myself, cried to Wayne...I was so fucking stupid.

"Then after everything, after Vecna was gone and I healed Max back up...I found it. Here in the Upside Down of all places. Must have fallen through when the gate opened up...but it made its way back to me. Just like you."

"You're a sap," you whispered.

"Guess what? So are you."

"I am," you laughed. You felt yourself choke up then, happiness turning to sorrow in an instant. Well, maybe it was still happiness…just the sad kind. "Hmmm."

"What is it?"

"Nothing, nothing," you cleared your throat to try and let it go, but it got the better of you and tears began to prickle at the corners of your eyes.

You couldn’t help yourself, you touched him again. You’d denied yourself for too long; you needed to be as close to him as you could for as long as you could. You touched his face. Beneath his bangs, over the crest of his eyes, ran a finger over his lips, even shoved your fingers over his fangs to inspect them, to see how dangerous they were, much to his displeasure.

“Don’t,” he hissed. “I have to feed, I could hurt you.”

”I don’t care.” The words burst from you. “I don’t.”

“Sweetheart,” he said in a warning tone but you ignored him.

“I spent all this time thinking you were dead and now here you are, right in front of me. Something I never thought I would have ever again. So excuse me if I don’t care that you might bite me. Hurt me. Nothing could compare with the hurt I felt when I lost you.”

“I get it.”

“I burnt down a building.”

“That’s—”

“Pretty metal, I know.”

“I was gonna say it sounds a little crazy,” you snorted. “Cmon? You burned down a building for little old me? With a lighter and gasoline?”

“With that smiting power you were so interested in earlier,” you explained.

“Ok well…shit. That’s pretty hot.”

“Fuck. Off.” You laughed wetly.

“You keep telling me to fuck off, I’ll leave you here.”

You could tell he was trying to make another joke but you didn’t have the patience for it.

“I’m trying to kiss you right now, Ed,” you told him matter-of-factly.

He was shocked, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, like the thought of actually kissing you, actually being with you, hadn't crossed his mind either. As though he hadn’t just used the brides to bring you to completion through the mental bond they shared. To be close to you, to share in pleasure and proximity, together again.

You were about to back down, about to say it was ok, especially if his hunger--fuck, you were gonna have to keep that in mind now, weren’t you--made him nervous. Instead, he surged forward, lips mashing into yours.

It was clumsy and a little painful at first. Both of you were out of practice, it was obvious, and there were, of course, extra teeth to be mindful of. Still, once you crossed the divide and settled yourself in his lap for easy access, you found your rhythm again.

It was as though you hadn’t been apart for a single minute, let alone three years.

Kissing him was nice, it always had been; tender sweetness, even in the throes of pleasure. You always used to joke that if Eddie could find a way to meld the two of you together with his mouth alone, he would; now was no different, as the plush pillows of his lips caressed and pecked at yours.

It didn't take long for the spark that was ignited between you to grow into an inferno and you couldn't really tell who was the needier of the two of you as breathing got heavier and tongue and teeth began to explore. All you knew was him. A sensory experience, being surrounded by each other again, and it was one that you had to learn all over again because it was different. Gone was the smell and taste of cigarette smoke and cheap laundry detergent and soda or bazooka bubblegum he enjoyed, and in its place something more visceral.

The bite of arctic air and nature and musk and dirt and blood.

Aside from the few times you'd bitten your tongue or split your lip, you'd never experienced the taste of blood before, and certainly not blood other than your own. Tangy, but not unpleasant. You could get used to it blooming along your tastebuds if it meant you never had to leave Eddie again.

He departed your lips then, as though he could sense the thought and didn't want you to endure it any longer than you had to. He left one, two, three pecks to the corner of your mouth before he descended down your cheek and along your jaw. He tsked as he reached your neck.

"What did they do to you huh?" he muttered and pecked and laved over the tender, ravaged flesh. He vacated one side of your throat for the other, inspecting the damage there; it was the side that Barb had bitten too, and you knew that it was surely worse. His tongue slithered out and he growled as it slowly ran along the ridges of each wound; the sound transferred from his body to yours, a rattling chittering vibration that sent chills up your spine.

"I didn't tell them to do this. When I realized..." he began an apology, but you stopped him.

"It's ok," you huffed a weak smile. "I'll heal. I always do."

"Hmmm."

He nudged his nose against yours, a soft rub of its bulbous tip, before diving back into your mouth.

From soft touches against faces and shoulders, hands suddenly moved to grip hips and thread into hair. The scrunchie was quick to go and his curls cascaded over his shoulders; you immediately buried your fingers in their depths, steering you where you wanted him to go, on the off chance he didn't already know.

His hands moved then to settle on your thighs, and gravity shifted as he hoisted you into his arms and stood. You broke away and stared at him in question. Where had this unexpected strength come from; was it more the result of this transformation in the Upside Down? You'd found unbelievable strength as your abilities developed over the years too.

Moreover, where had he found the idea or desire to carry you anyway?

You could spend as much time here on the loveseat as you wanted; it's not like you hadn't fucked on a sofa before.

"Where are we going?" you asked as he took his first steps.

"Bedroom."

"My legs work."

"They won't before long," he grinned and you rolled your eyes. Vampire or undead or whatever amalgam of an upside down creature as he was, Eddie was still your boyfriend who would quote bad porn just to annoy you.

He brought you down the short hallway to a bedroom; it was unremarkable and had a look and feel about it that was similar to his room in the trailer in some ways...but still not at all.

There was a poster on the wall, and Sweetheart sitting on an amp in the corner--had he been the one to play Sympathy for the Devil that you'd heard on the radio; you hadn't been going crazy--a stack of t-shirts and clothes sat on a broken dresser, and a dented old thermos rested on the windowsill.

He laid you down on a mattress that had been placed on the floor and was laden with pillows and blankets. He started to rid you of your shoes and your jeans, taking as extra care as he had been not to rip into them with his claws; as needy as you were, you were also curious, and you took that moment to inspect this bed of his further.

One of the pillows was stained with blood, some of the blankets shredded to ribbons, and, buried amongst a soft comforter...two long bones that were sharpened to points.

Eddie faltered in his movements as you lifted them closer to your face to inspect and he immediately pulled his hands away from you; his arms crossed over his torso and he shrugged.

"Guess I'm a little messy," he explained sheepishly. "There, uh...might be some more in here...somewhere. Be careful."

There were a million thoughts racing through your mind; where did these bones come from, what did they belong to, had he...eaten some creature? Once again, you needed to internalize all of it quickly. This was just going to come with the territory of having Eddie back, wasn't it?

"It's...ok," you swallowed thickly and turned your eyes back to him. "I can just use it to stab you in the heart if worse comes to worse."

He snorted and licked his lips to stop himself from smiling; in the end, you both failed. You were giggling and you let out a honk of laughter that you hated but Eddie adored; he'd told you so many times. You covered your face with your hands to hide from him, but he was quick to kneel down in the cradle of your thighs to pull them away.

"I want to see you," he whispered. "I need to see you."

He kissed your hands, one, then the other, and then pulled you to sit upright; you helped him remove your jacket--he recalled it had been Mickey's...and then noted that Mickey had died by his hand as he thumbed the rips in the shoulders from Chrissy's attempted-abduction of you in the square--then your t-shirt. He was extra cocky as he used those talons to slice through your bra.

"You're an asshole," you muttered as he ducked to capture your lips again.

"Remember," he pressed a kiss and then backed off to grin, "when I kept fumbling with the hooks."

There wasn't much talking after that, as you began your true reunion, your worship of one another.

He knew where to lick, where to kiss, to get the sweetest and most desperate noises out of you. Of course, he also had his favorite little places to put his hands and his mouth.

He was careful of your throat, but that didn't mean he couldn't suck a hickey to your jaw, or your collarbone, or the side of one of your breasts. He sniffed your skin and sighed dreamily every now and again, pressed his face into the softness of your chest and your belly and just rested there for a moment, before continuing his descent.

He didn't leave an inch of you untouched when it came to these new discoveries and devotions.

He paid special attention to each prominent scar he found. Whispered words of apology, of understanding, as he bore witness to all the ways you sacrificed yourself for a God who'd essentially abandoned you. Abandoned both of you.

Every nerve in your body was alight; not because he kept pulling pleasure to the surface, but simply because of the proximity. You luxuriated in having him there, in carding your fingers through his hair, in hearing the timber of his voice and feeling it as it hummed along your skin. Even when he got too carried away and his claws scratched you or punctured your skin, as blood began to pool to the surface, you found some sense of joy. The little zings of pain only added to the pleasure.

For Eddie, though, they simply seemed to test the strength of his willpower to tame the beast within.

He finally reached the crux of you, and instead of touching or kissing as you expected him to, bringing you pleasure that way--something he'd always enjoyed before--he got to his knees and began working the belt off his jeans.

"What are you doing?" you demanded breathlessly, desperately. "You were..."

"I just...I'll..." he fumbled over his words, head still ducked as his hands worked. His voice sounded muffled and he refused to look at you. "We...we'll just finish up here and then I need to go."

"Go!?"

"I want to make you feel good, baby, I just...I can't stay. I'm already hanging on by a thread as it is."

You thought that he just meant that he needed to find his own release, which was understandable, but to need to leave? He flung his belt off to the side, and as he did, you saw. Really saw.

His eyes seemed more sunken in, surrounded by shadowy-bruises, scleras bright red. His fangs, which had just been two lone points in his mouth, seemed to have multiplied; four sharp teeth, now elongated, on his upper jaw, and two on the lower.

You called his name once, then again more forcibly, to get him to stop as he shed his jacket. He froze, and then stared at you, practically ashamed.

"They'll be back soon and I'm hungry," he explained. He let the jacket drop to the ground and then stared hungrily at his hands, at the fresh blood at the points of his nails. "I'm so...hungry."

He had mentioned that, that he'd been hungry, before. Which was why he couldn't be there when you were brought to the Upside Down.

But he said that he'd fed days ago; how long had you been here?

Was it just the drawing of your blood that had him hungry again? Needing to be sustained.

You spoke instinctually.

"Feed on me."

His eyes widened in shock.

"Sweetheart--" he tried to warn you, but you stopped him.

"Chrissy and Patrick already did," you rationalized. "Barb did. You're not going to do anything that they didn’t; just...try to be gentle and don't kill me."

"I'm trying not to kill you."

"I know," you encouraged. "I trust you. Drink my blood. Feed on me."

You held your hand out and nodded to your wrist; your neck was already bitten and healing. You both would probably have a better...uh...experience if he fed from there instead.

Eddie released a long breath and rolled his head backwards, hands coming up to his eyes as though it was the most difficult decision in the world. The only decision that mattered.

But, faster than your eyes could see, he was on you, lips and tongue caressing your wrist, lavishing over your pulse. You closed your eyes for a second...until it felt like his tongue elongated and wrapped around your wrist entirely...and they shot open again.

He was too quick though. Another blur of movement, and your underwear had simply vanished and Eddie was nuzzling the softness of your thigh with his nose, smelling the path your arteries, smelling the musk of your sex. You strained your neck to watch him--settled on his stomach, half off the mattress, with one of your legs thrown over his shoulder--but you couldn't hold it for long as he caressed your slit. As he stroked his fingers through your wetness and found your clit, slowly and torturously, as his nose followed the path upwards.

A delicate caress was all it took for the pleasure to invade your senses, ready as you were from all of the foreplay. Your body was primed for more after being starved for so long and only given a taste of salvation from him and his puppets previously. He rolled his fingers over and over, bringing you higher; he was mindful of his claws with each touch and caress, still you felt the cold huff of his breath chuckling when you bore down on nothingness as he rasped the sharp edges over the softness of you just so.

It had always been a game with you, pushing each other further to see who could hold out longer and who would break first--a delicious give and take--but it seemed he was focused on one thing now: a delicious prize for the both of you.

And needed to get there as quickly as possible.

You whined as your body tingled; your pleasure climbed and he hummed, his ministrations getting quicker. Sensing you were close to the edge, he pushed a finger into your heat, then a second, and your hips bucked. If the rasp of his claws outside had created a mix of pleasure and pain, inside it made you question everything. And as he pistoned his fingers once...twice...and pressed on your clit, you found euphoria.

You found Heaven.

And so did he.

You barely registered him biting into you at first, such pleasure raced through your body, but the sting of the first mouthful of blood being pulled from you brought you back to reality.

You rapidly came down from your high, so pleasantly numb, to the sounds of his lewd slurping and gulping of one mouthful then the next. If you had the capability of higher thought, you might wonder if you'd built some sort of tolerance to being feasted on like this, but your focus was on the remnants of your pleasure...and on him.

Eddie let out a delicious groan with a particularly painful pull, and you winced. He mouth released from your thigh with a satisfying pop, and, like a predator, he turned his gaze to meet yours.

Half hidden by the slopes of your body, you could still see the way his nose and lips were stained red. He bared his teeth at you--in a smile or a warning, you couldn't tell for sure--then set his sights back on your center.

Blood made an interesting addition to your own slickness, as he lowered his mouth onto your pussy; you twitched as he licked your essence away, one hunger sated and replaced by another. Gone were his fingers, as he moved your leg off his shoulder and spread you open to feast once more. You bucked against him as he stoked the fires within you again, tried to fight him so you could grind against his mouth, but he didn't let up.

"E-Eddie," you whined and he moaned, tongue thrumming against your clit and then sliding to your entrance to collect the ambrosia that you blessed him with.

You didn't want to beg, especially when you would gladly take every ounce of attention he bestowed upon you, but you wanted him. Wanted all of him. Wanted to see him.

Wanted to be with him, as one.

And the fucker hadn't even taken his clothes off yet.

"E-eddie, please," you cried, unable to convey exactly what you wanted. "I need you."

He clearly took that to mean more and more is exactly what he gave you, enough that should have made you surrender, made you melt for him.

He rolled his tongue against your sensitive nub, let his fangs rasp over you, before he began to suckle your clit and you had to grab his head and tug to try and get him to stop.

This was everything you wanted. But maybe not everything you wanted right now. The denial would be delicious.

Your nails scraped his scalp and pulled at the long strands of his hair until he finally finally released his focus from your quivering cunt.

Both of you heaved and gasped heavily.

He cuffed a hand against his chin to try and wipe off the mix of your blood and slick and you groaned; he didn't have to look so enticing doing something like that.

"So bossy," he grinned naughtily.

He didn't have to look so enticing saying something like that either.

"I am," you told him. "Because I need you--"

"And I was about to let you come right there, sweetheart."

"I need you...I need to feel you," you told him.

"Hmmm, tempting," he inched his way up your body, pressing bloody kisses to your mound, then your stomach. He stopped and rested his chin there.

There was some spike of unidentified emotion inside of you. Wrath, maybe. Annoyance, definitely.

"Don't tell me," you hissed at him. "That you're not looking for your own release."

"I am," he nodded and kissed up. Further and further. Your ribs, your breasts, laying his head there now. You couldn't help but caress his forehead, push his bangs out of his eyes as he stared up at you like you hung the stars.

You could feel him shift, feel the hardness of him straining against his jeans as he squirmed against you.

"Don't tell me that you don't want to fuck me," you whispered. "Don't tell me that you aren't just itching to come inside of me Eddie."

He kissed once against your clavicle, once on the hickey he left on your jaw and then hovered over your lips...

"Please," he whispered. "Let me fuck you."

You grabbed him and pulled him to you, lips crashing and hungry as you took what you craved from him.

Frantic movement on shaky limbs as you both knelt on the mattress and stripped him of his clothes between the clashing of your mouths in desperation.

It wasn't until you needed to part so you could pull his shirt over his head that you paused.

Tension.

It was sudden and suffocating as you finally saw all of him. Your hungry eyes found his cock first, lengthy and hard and fisted in his hand as he rolled his head back on his shoulders with relief for the first time all night. Which was funny because he was not shy about humping a bed once upon a time; had he learned some kind of virtuous patience in the years you'd been away? It was almost impossible to fathom.

But then, your eyes were drawn to the rest of his body.

Your hand went to your mouth in horror as you finally witnessed all of him. Witnessed what came out of the other side after he'd been chewed up and spit out by Vecna and his minions. By the Upside Down.

It was the bite scars that caught your eyes first. Maybe because you had felt the ephemeral echo of the assault for yourself, maybe because they were wide swaths of mangled flesh. Layers and layers and wrinkles and valleys. A piece of his torso practically gouged out on one side, his pectoral muscle shredded on the other, nipple missing.

When he had been attacked, he had been Eddie; when the attack was over he was just...meat. And this was the evidence of that. Some parts had healed to silver or pink, both others were left angry and red. If you didn't know better, you might think he was still hurt; that they were still bleeding.

He had kissed your scars and apologized; he was truly the one who deserved the apology.

The seams were next. Down his limbs, at each of his joints; like he'd been ripped apart and put back together again. Strange lines that carved into him like a dissection. Vivisection, if the screams that you'd heard through his memories were true. There were two prominent ones along his ribs that looked...particularly vulnerable. Then again, it could have been because he bulged strangely there.

He didn't look like your Eddie anymore. Maybe it was because he wasn't.

Well, he was...all of him was. All of him...belonged to your heart. Or, more accurately, your heart belonged to all of him. Been through Hell, and survived.

You'd always thought--and you'd told him once and he'd laughed in your face--that he looked like one of the statues that you loved at your favorite cemetery back home. Carefully carved through time and patience, flaws intentional, but made to be witnessed and celebrated and have people kneel before them.

Yes he made a cocksucking joke.

Now though...he was like stained glass in the chapel. Overall whole, one beautiful piece of art that was made to let the resplendent light shine through. But so obviously complex, evidenced by the thousands of little pieces that made it up. Each one so important to the greater whole.

Different, but still beautiful.

Eddie finally noticed the state of you and he paused; you could feel the waves of doubt come off him as he looked down at himself in shame.

"I'm sorry, I should have wa--"

"No," you closed the distance between you. "Stop. It's...I just...I..."

"It's horrible," he told you. "And there's so much more that you...that you don't know."

"It isn't horrible," you replied. "We have plenty of time; all the time in the world. I'll find out the rest eventually, Eddie. But no matter what...I love you."

His eyes shifted between yours, that unsettling red tinge still there but made less intense by his feast; you knew he was looking to see if you were lying to him.

You hoped he knew that you could never lie to him. Especially about something like that.

If there was something that didn't change about Eddie, it was his smile. Sure his teeth might have been comprised of fangs, and his cheeks stretched in a slightly tense way...but the way his eyes crinkled, the way--even in the darkness--he seemed to light up from the inside. That would always stay the same.

You pulled him to you and kissed him again, soft and full of intense devotion. His hands found you and he guided you back down to the mattress, sweeping away the extra blankets and pillows and remnants of previous carnage, and he settled onto you.

Into you.

He guided himself to your center and with one last glance to make sure you wanted this--you always would, always--he slid into you, and found himself where he truly belonged.

Home. With you.

One hand held him above you and the other roamed, caressing over the slopes and curves of your body, running over your cheek and over your heart for a moment, until it settled at the crux where your bodies met. Your hands searched him as well, determined to commit all of his scars to memory--if not tonight, then one day--when they finally landed on a set of scars along his shoulder blades. Thick and deep, he closed his eyes and you could feel his body twitch with pleasure as you lavished them with attention, your delicate touch dancing over the raised skin.

His pace quickened and he grit his teeth; his fingers danced over your clit to carry you to the peaks of pleasure, caressing your cunt worshipfully as you caressed him within.

As you accepted him--all of him--over and over.

It was a marathon that tested your stamina and willpower but neither of you would let up or stop; you needed this. You both needed this, together; finally with each other.

You could feel it rising within you, your limbs tingled and you began to see stars. You refused to close your eyes, even as Eddie got desperate and ducked his head into your shoulder, hips stuttering as they chased his release, fingers relentless as they chased yours.

You couldn't blame him when he bit your throat, when his fangs slid through the already-abused flesh as you inevitably came. You couldn't be too sure that you didn't pull him into you yourself. The bite, the sting, and the pull of your blood took your rapture to an intensity you'd never experienced before.

You saw the strings of fate, floating around him in that moment, connecting him to you; sparkling lines that shifted and tangled over his skin and onto yours. It was blinding and brilliant, and it made you finally close your eyes to bask in it all.

There was some old story, that humans used to have 4 arms, 4 legs and two heads. And some God thought them too powerful, so They demanded them split for the rest of eternity; those humans spent the rest of their days searching...searching for their other half until they could be one again.

And as Eddie's hips stuttered into yours, as he lost his stamina and finally spilled his release inside of you, as he finally made you his--fully and completely for the first time in what felt like an eternity--that search was finally complete.

“I love you. Even if the Fates unraveled our destiny, I would find a way back to you.” - Scarlett St. Clair, A Touch of Ruin

Next Chapter: Revelation

#aasb #as above so below #eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson x oc #Eddie munson smut #kas!eddie munson #Eddie munson fic #Eddie munson stranger things #tw: blood #tw: smut #tw: violence #tw: mentions of death

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rosanna-writer · 7 months

Text

Dressed in Black Now

Another drabble for @officialrhysandweek! For the "pastimes" prompt, Elain is serving cake and Rhys is serving looks.

You can find it here on AO3 or below the cut.

"I was hoping I'd find you here."

At the sound of Rhysand's voice, Elain nearly dropped the bowl of batter she was pouring into a pan. Even after years around the fae—and being one herself now—winnowing still caught her off-guard. She turned to see her brother-in-law leaning against the kitchen door.

"Hello, Rhys," she said with a smile. She watched his eyes drift to the now-empty bowl and the spoon covered in batter. Elain might not be a daemati, but she knew what he was thinking. "It has raw eggs," she added pointedly.

"And as I've told you, that's not an issue," Rhys said, breezing by her to take a seat at the table.

Elain sighed—they'd had this argument countless times. Rhys insisted that faeries weren't susceptible to most illnesses, including the ones that spread through uncooked food. And that even if they were, the risk of actually getting sick from batter was low. No matter how many times he said it, though, Elain couldn't help but worry and still shooed everyone away from raw batter and dough.

Rhys sat down, stretching his long legs out in front of him. "I wanted to ask if you'd decided what you were wearing for Starfall."

"I hadn't decided," Elain said, shooting him a quizzical look over the cake pan.

"Then we'll decide this week."

"We?"

"Yes, if you accept my apology. I'm sorry we allowed you to wear that travesty of a gown on Solstice."

Elain would have been offended if she hadn't hated the gown, too. She'd known it hadn't suited her, but there hadn't already been any black in her closet. And with so much happening at once—Eris, the Trove, Feyre's pregnancy—there hadn't been time to find something better.

"No apology is necessary," Elain said, meaning it.

"Wonderful," Rhys purred. She shot him another look, then double-checked that the batter had poured evenly into the pan before sliding it into the oven.

Elain turned back around to find Rhys reaching into a pocket dimension and pulling out pieces of cloth in various colors. She had no idea what he intended to do with them, just wiped her hands on her apron as she waited for an explanation.

"Drape these around your shoulders, would you?" Rhys said. Elain hesitated. "Please?" he added.

He laced his fingers together and rested his chin on them as Elain picked up the cloth and pulled it around her. Each drape was a different solid color, all made of the same material.

"I don't see what this has to do with Starfall," she said.

"Black comes in many shades," Rhys said, in the tone of voice that preceded a lecture. She'd learned to recognize it the hard way, when a polite inquiry about the model of stars and planets in his study had resulted in her sitting through a long speech about the origins of the universe. "True black, which would have a complete absence of hue, is nigh impossible to achieve using fabric dye. The undertones of the black you wore on Solstice completely clashed with your coloring and washed you out. The drapes will allow us to determine your color season and choose a more appropriate shade of black."

"I see…" Elain said, the only polite reply she could muster.

"Feyre left a book on color theory on the nightstand. You should borrow it if you're interested in learning more."

Elain decided to keep it to herself that if she were going to borrow anyone's books, it would Nesta's.

She cycled through several more drapes as Rhys watched carefully, occasionally letting out a hum of interest or disapproval. The whole thing was making her feel rather ridiculous. Elain was wracking her brain for a polite excuse to leave—a difficult task when they shared a house—until the cake was ready, but finally Rhys motioned for her to stop and said, "Excellent. I believe you're a bright spring, Elain."

"Is that a problem?" she said, unsure what he meant, but considering their history with the Spring Court, it sounded worrying.

The smile Rhys gave her was fond. "Not at all," he said gently, "Color seasons have nothing do with the seasonal courts. It just means you'd look best in a slightly greenish black instead of the harsh blue-black you were wearing on Solstice."

He opened up the pocket dimension again, and with a flick of his wrist, the drapes were gone. Reaching inside another pocket dimension, he pulled out several swatches of black fabric and laid them out on the table. Pulling out the chair next to him, Rhys gestured for her to sit.

Elain took off her apron and perched on the chair, careful not to get any stray flour on anything. She fingered the closest swatch, a soft silk in the greenish black color that Rhys had described. It already seemed nicer than her Solstice gown.

They passed the rest of the afternoon contentedly, choosing a shortlist of fabrics and discussing tailoring options while Elain made icing to decorate the cake that was baking. Rhys wore her down eventually and licked the leftover batter from the spoon as they talked.

Black had never been a color Elain wore much of, but that day, she decided it suited her after all.

#rhysandweek2023 #pro rhysand

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brightnote · 6 months

Text

The Marvels is a lot of fun even though it is low stakes & does not totally make sense. It' a quick movie and worth a watch for the comedic relief from Kamala Kahn.

Spoilers for the Marvels below

This film was 100000 times better than Quantum Mania and infinity times better than Secret Invasion, which I think we can all agree never needed to happen and did absolutely nothing to set up the Marvels---literally! Fury and Carol have still done nothing and failed the Skrulls.

Kamala Kahn (Iman Vellani) carried the humor in this ride and it was well worth the watch for her. I'm glad I saw it. There was lots of funny parts but for the most part the overall plot did not come through or make any sense--but you know what that's totally fine! I'm just in it for fun and it did make me remember that Nick Fury and superhero movies are supposed to be fun--or can be fun! Who cares if it's low stakes or doesn't totally come together--did it make you laugh? Did the actors do a good job? Did you leave excited for what comes next? For me yes to all three.

The most exciting and fun parts were really from the B-Story or from Kamala Kahn and her family. The dancing/singing planet story was silly but Kamala carried that scene for me too! And there def needed to be more reunion of Monica/Carol but I was happy to see more Maria Rambeau!!! Also did anyone else think Dar-benn meant a son and not the physical sun in the sky lmao.

It's also not clear how, or why, or if at all Secret Invasion folds into it. Even the skrulls themsleves are pretty irrelevant to the plot of the Marvels--in fact what happened to them is unclear/awful and largely un-adressed as well as what is happening to skrulls on earth! Also it was a good reminder that Nick Fury aside from Secret Invasion is actually quite fun? It was infuriating to see him care more unnamed crew members and returning them to earth than him caring about Maria or Talos his two besties? I DON'T KNOW. I am going to assume this show is not cannon based on how it wasn't referenced or acknowledged at all. Also no mention of Varra, and for someone who left a huge mess on earth, Fury seemed pretty good overall...

Also, so now there's also countless Flerken on earth? Are you telling me over 30 years Fury never investigated Flerken eggs? I DON'T KNOW. Was it funny? Yes and it was a good time but it just made me sad that Talos & Maria Hill got the shaft from this mostly feel good movie (minus the fact the skrulls are still without and once again ignored) It kind of makes me think they made a 212 million dollar show just off Talos and Maria because there was no other explanation for their absence in the film.

One thing I loved at the end was the Winter Soldier call back when Kamala showed up to surprise Kate! Kamala is just a delight. But you know who would have been the best person ever to lead a team of young (mostly female) Avengers.......... MARIA HILL!!! Imagine Maria Hill leading Yelana, Kate, and Kamala? Plus she & Kamala would be great. Kamala is the perfect person for Maria to work with too because she's cute and funny and Maria can be the serious one. UGH MARVEL. I HATE THE OPPORTUNITIES YOU MISS.

thoughts? agree/disagree? Was this my favorite marvel movie ever? no! was it the best one ever made? no, but it's definitely not worth the hate it's getting that's for sure!

Also do wish they used the intergalactic remix more.

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themotherofhorses · 9 months

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I loved your writing, and I had always thought you were a talented writer. Your handmaid series was one of my favorite Aemond series on this site. But I will not lie, I’m a bit disappointed at how easily you seem to abandon your work and followers. So many people have been anxiously awaiting the next part, which you constantly teased, only to receive a lousy “Sorry, I’m not in the right mindset” explanation for your sudden absence? Yikes. That feels like a slap in the face to your followers.

hi anon!

okay so i debated whether to answer this, and i mean i thought about it for HOURS. like pacing-in-the-kitchen + chewing on my nails + having a lil tummy ache.

yeah, maybe that “i’m not in the right mindset” explanation wasn’t the best, and at this point, i rlly don’t have anything left to lose so here is the raw and ugly truth:

(tw// mentions of depression, suicidal thoughts, and an eating disorder below.)

if you didn’t know, i was diagnosed with anorexia nervosa in the fall of 2020, along with depression and anxiety. i’ve been in recovery since then.

however, these past several weeks, i unfortunately relapsed back into my ed, and i began experiencing my heavy depression episodes. i’ve had a talk with my family, and i’ve been trying to regain my focus and strength, but its been so fucking difficult as hell.

that is why i haven’t been writing. it is so incredibly hard to find the motivation to write when you just wanna …. yknow …. die? or not exactly die but more curl up in a ball and cry your eyes out until there is nothing left inside you. fanfic writing became a strong and favorite coping mechanism of mine, and it has been so heartbreaking to feel that passion/motivation slowly die away. that is the main reason why i have decided to take a step back from writing and posting and being active on this blog.

i love my fanfics and i love all my readers. y’all have been an unexpected but greatly appreciated light in my life. y’all have genuinely given me a reason for living, as silly as that might sound.

so pls pls PLS (with a cherry on top) believe me when i say that i never mean to abandon y’all. i’m still here! i’m just trying to find myself again — and when i do, i’ll return to give y’all the best smutty fics i can whip up hehe.

to end things on a positive note, here is a picture of my sadie <33 she’s helping in keeping her momma afloat in these shitty waters.

#vic talks #personal

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savingyou · 2 years

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Okay to preface: I’m a trans man and this is my opinion, and if you disagree or want to call me transphobic please go away and never come back and also look up the definition of “opinion” because it will help you.

I think Dean Winchester is trans and here’s why:

In the pilot episode we see a picture of young Dean, John, and young Sam, both wearing hats and plaid and sitting on the Impala. Dean is shown with shoulder length black hair and this is my first piece of evidence for trans!Dean.

Now, i know that boys can have long hair and I have seen plenty of little boys with long hair. Dean looks to be 12 in the picture, and both John and Sam have short hair. So we know they can afford haircuts (or are at least able to get them) and while Dean may have just styled his hair like this, i think that it was long because he wasn’t out yet.

The picture in question:

The next picture i want to talk about is this one:

Which shows us pre-series Dean also had longer hair but he looks much more masculine in this picture than in the previous one. This fake ID, along with a few others are more evidence for me. Dean has a fake drivers license where the sex reads female, and while thats probably a typo, we know that Dean and Sam’s fake IDs have been good enough to fool hundreds of people, so they have to be good fake IDs - meaning typos shouldn’t happen.

Also in the pilot episode, a cop asks Dean “you have anything that’s real?” And Dean jokingly replies “My boobs.”

And while i know that this line is intended as a joke, i also know that Dean uses humor to tell the truth sometimes. He will joke about something when he can’t talk seriously about it. We see examples of this all over season one, when Sam is grieving Jess. But as a trans person myself i also joke about my chest (to an extent, i personally dont like to bring attention to it), and it’s in Dean’s character to do that too. (I also want to mention that if i had just finished healing from top surgery and someone asked me that question i would probably say the same thing, just because its fun to finally say you dont have boobs anymore - and i also think dean got top surgery immediately pre-series, which is another reason for him to be away from John for so long and to have “lost” him)

During the three first seasons, we never see Dean’s naked chest - i believe there’s only one time in season 3 during Mystery Spot where we see his shoulder in the shower, but not his chest - which i think could be a way to hide top surgery scars. It’s only after he comes back to life in season 4 that we see his naked chest, where he’s confused by the absence of (hellhound) scars because Castiel healed him - also this could be a place where you could say Dean got bottom surgery, i.e., Castiel gave him a dick/fully functioning biologically male genitalia.

In season 4, the episode “Monster Movie” he says he’s been “re-hymenated” which is another joke, but also I don’t know of a single man who knows what a hymen actually is, much less a man who would actually say that to convey his virginity status.

Also the way the man dresses. I mean, he’s so hyper masculine that it feels like an extreme overcorrection. I did the same thing when i came out. He wears plaid, henleys, and jeans under big leather and army jackets. The man wears layers like he’s hiding three tits under there.

For the sex argument, all i have to say is toys (or the aforementioned holy bottom surgery). If Dean wants to fuck someone he can wear a strap on. Its not that difficult. We never see him naked below the waist so he could be wearing one, you dont know. Also does it matter what his genitals really look like? No. We never see them so its all just speculation.

I know dean isnt trans in canon because he’s fathered a child (Emma in season 7) and apparently the explanation of magic doesn’t explain how that can be possible between two biological women (eggs and uteruses).

Anyway. There are plenty of reasons that Dean can be trans. Sorry this was so long. I posted something similar to this and someone thought i was being transphobic i guess? So i wanted to try again with the added preface of “this is my opinion/headcanon and you dont have to think I’m right” to hopefully deter people from saying I’m being insensitive.

So yeah trans Dean, i love it and i wish the cw or any tv network had the guts to actually do that, even if the actor is cis, i dont care i just want a trans character. Thank you and good night

#supernatural #dean winchester #trans headcanon #trans dean winchester #trans man #headcanon #this is just my opinion

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mangoshorthand · 2 years

Text

No Hard Feelings- [Five Hargreeves x F Reader]. Ch2

SUMMARY: You're Five's latest assassination target, but things don't go to plan and now he wants you as his fuckbuddy. Funny how what we want and what we need are rarely in line. (Five's physically aged up). Obvious smut warning. Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five- Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve

In this chapter, Five pays you another visit. He has a proposition.

Smut below. Proceed at your own risk.

Chapter Two: A Proposition

The gun was slack in his hand and the ice-cream melted on the floor.

“You know what you want.” he murmured, throatily.

“Yes,” you whispered.

Looking into his green eyes, you brought a shaking hand to his waistband and unzipped his pants, exposing cotton underwear only just containing the bulge there.

You dream of him in the wrong ways. His ragged breathing, the scent of him as his pelvis pressed gently into your mouth and nose…

Terrified, you called your best friend to pick you up from the police station and stayed with her for a few days. When you felt ready, you both came back to your apartment and she stayed with you one more night until you felt partway safe.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Ellie asked, squeezing your hand.

“I’ll have to be.”

“I can stay for one more night. I can call in a favor with my boss.”

“No. It’s okay,” you’d hugged her then, grateful for her, “I need to get back to normal. I’m going to get some takeout, watch some TV and take a bath.”

“Sounds good,” she’d replied, holding you tight, “but if you need me, you call, ok?”

You'd told her about the home invasion but you didn’t go into detail. It was too raw, too confusing. She didn’t press you for information but she knows you well enough to know that something more happened, but she didn’t stress the point. You can’t tell her how you dream of him.

Now, Saturday morning, you sit on the couch and stare at the blanket draped over the back. The idea that he touched you, lifted you into his arms when you were passed out and helpless makes your spine tingle unpleasantly. Yet you were placed there gently, entirely unhurt, the blanket pulled over you. And how did you awake with the door still locked from the inside?

You need to get your act together. You called out of work for the first four days and your boss’s patience was wearing thin, even with the police report as explanation for your absence. When you returned to work, your detachment, jumpiness and poor productivity hadn’t done much to clear the air. Charlie had taken to loudly pointing out any minor missteps you made with badly feigned concern.

Officer Boden had been back in touch yesterday. The case wasn’t closed, exactly, but he made it clear that with no physical evidence of the man’s presence, there wasn’t a lot he and Rojas could do unless there was another similar crime in the future. The security footage proved fruitless: they showed nothing but an empty elevator, an empty hallway and the camera on the entrance was dead anyway. The only proof they had that it even happened was your word and a melting tub of ice-cream.

A knock makes you jump. Taking a steadying breath, you reassure yourself that it’s just Ellie: she’s forgotten her moisturizer or something. You rise and head for the door, trying to act with the confidence you don’t feel. Not for the first time, you wish for a peephole in your apartment door. Bracing yourself, you reach for the door handle.

It’s him. His right hand is raised in a supplicatory gesture.

“Please, hear me out.”

You don’t listen, you don’t even slam the door. Your instinct, surely poor for self-preservation, causes you to back up, trip over your own feet and fall onto the floor. You crawl backwards, frantically, staring up at the man from your nightmares…the nightmares that leave your panties traitorously wet.

“No! No, please. Not again! Please!”

“Shhh, I won’t hurt you. I won’t,” he begins to look impatient, “try to calm down.”

“Try to calm down?!” you stare up at him, framed in the doorway, your eyes feeling as if they’re about to pop out of your head, “Are you fucking kidding?”

He smiles, seemingly in spite of himself, and takes a tentative step over the threshold. He’s wearing what looks like the same suit, tie loosened, but hair still neatly combed and waistcoat buttoned. Your eyes fall to the small brown paper bags he carries in his left hand. Naturally, one has to be concealing the gun, but the other…who knows what tortures he could have planned.

He shuts the door behind him and strolls over to the kitchen counter, seemingly oblivious to your fear. Even in your terror, you notice his nonchalance. He seems to lead with his head, forehead out in front with everything else following along behind. He puts the bags down as if he lives there, having just returned from grocery shopping. He eyes the remnants of last night’s Chinese takeout with disapproval. In one stride, he’s at the freezer, deftly removing two cartons of ice cream from one of the bags.

“Peace offering. Cookie Dough and Cherry Garcia. We need to expand your palette,” turning on his heel, he catches your eye, the smirk on his lips fading slightly as he holds your gaze for a little longer than seems natural, “come on, pull yourself together, little lady. If I wanted to hurt you, you’d already be dead.”

You feel your courage returning, anger taking the place of fear. Maybe it’s being called ‘little lady’ by a man at least six years your junior.

“Then what happened last time?” His expression darkens in response, as if annoyed by what he sees as impudence.

“Good question. That’s why I’m here,” he reaches into the second bag, producing two takeout coffees in a holder “I brought breakfast,” with his other hand, he throws the bag and its remaining contents into your lap, “choose a pastry.”

You stand up, your legs less shaky than you would have thought. You take the few steps to the couch and collapse onto it, only taking your eyes off the man long enough to glance into the bag. As he says, you see two pastries: a croissant and a Danish.

He approaches, offering you one of the coffees. You take it tentatively.

“I don’t know how you take it so I got black.”

“I prefer milk but I can enjoy black.”

You seem to float above yourself for a second, fully cognisant of the absurdity here; you’re talking coffee preference with a man who, only days ago, held a gun to your head. Hiding your disquiet, you choose the Danish and pass him back the bag.

“Damn, I wanted that one.”

“Sorry, I-I’ll have the cro-“

He cuts you off, a slightly mean laugh in his voice: “Why are you apologizing to me? Just eat the Danish.”

“Fuck you.”

He raises his eyebrows and flops down on one of your dining chairs.

"To be completely honest, that’s kind of what I came here hoping for.”

You stare, dumbfounded, Danish halfway to your mouth.

“But- uh- before we get into that: do you remember the Umbrella Academy?”

You watch him for several moments, blinking. If this is a lie, it's a bizarre one. He looks back at you placidly, taking a sip of his coffee.

“So your name is just ‘Number Five’? I know the others have names but…”

“Mhm, but you can just call me Five.”

He grins, halfway between sarcastic and charming.

“And the time travel? And you’re, what, over sixty in your head but your body…?”

“Body’s somewhere around nineteen. It's aging as normal, thank God.”

You study his face, disbelief creeping through your mind. Forty-five years in an apocalypse before being rescued by an organization that protects the timeline? Sure, it's true that the real Number Five disappeared when he was young, but-

“How do I know you’re not just some kid trying to mess with me?”

His brow furrows, “Don’t call me a kid, little girl.”

Then, he sighs resignedly, sitting up with a noise of effort completely incongruous with his young body.

With a swoosh and a flash of light that makes your whole body lurch, he disappears, reappearing instantly sat atop your kitchen counter

“Believe me now?”

You try to say ‘yes’ but your voice barely sounds. Five smirks and holds out his wrist as you mouth the word. There’s the academy tattoo.

Jumping down, with the air of one finally getting down to business, he says, “So. Why am I here and why was I sent to kill you?”

He places his hands in his pockets and stares at you expectantly, rather like a teacher waiting for his slowest student to work out that 1+1=2. You don’t accommodate him in this but wait instead, raising your eyebrows. Clearly annoyed by your lack of desire to please him, he continues.

“I mentioned my work with the Commission. I sometimes take out targets that threaten the stability of our given timeline. In a tangential, butterfly-effect sort of way, you happen to have dangerous influence. There are many of these individuals, all in a chain, but you were selected. It’s not necessary to kill you to break the chain, but you just happened to be selected as the link to break. That’s why I came that night. It truly was nothing personal.”

What was clearly meant to reassure you causes fear to bubble to the surface again. The Danish and coffee gurgle uncomfortably in your stomach. This is insane.

“But then,” he resumes, locking eyes with you again, “well, you know what happened.”

You feel the blood drain away and then immediately refill your face. You can’t hold his gaze.

He laughs knowingly, dangerously under his breath.

“Look at you blush. Yes you do know.”

He takes a pause, perching on the arm of the couch, giving you space. “Listen, I have a proposition for you. You don’t have to say yes. Please don’t be scared into that. I promise, if you tell me no, I will never come back here. I’ve renegotiated with the Commission. You’re no longer a target.”

At the word ‘proposition’, you feel a tingle between your legs. Part of you- well most of you- knows what’s coming. As he captures your gaze again, his hard yet strangely pretty eyes piercing yours, you find you can’t look away.

“It’s been hard for me, back in the body of a teen. It’s not as bad now as it was when I arrived, but the hormones are still pretty…” his voice cracks, “…intense.”

He crosses his legs and clears his throat, “It’s just, when I looked into your eyes, I knew I wanted you. More than anyone,” he pauses, “…in a while.”

Your nipples harden beneath your t-shirt. Of course you’re not wearing a bra again. Why does he always have to see you like this?

“So, I’m asking,” he sweeps his hair out of his eyes, “I want an…arrangement. Someone I can see in the evenings”

“L-like a fuck-buddy?”

He falters, “I wouldn’t put it so indelicately, but yes. Only I don’t want the ‘buddy’ part.”

You stare past him, mind reeling. You’re struggling to fathom the implications. You say the first thing that your bewildered mind spits out:

“But you’re-“

“Yes, I’m quite the dirty old man. I understand if that’s a hard line for you. But if you don't mind me saying, that’s a relatively small red flag beside the fact I nearly killed you.”

“No, I meant-”

“I know what you meant,” a forbidding tone creeps into his voice, “but which age gap sounds creepier? Seven or eight years or around thirty? The body is adult. Trust me, it’s got all the parts and body hair it’s ever going to get.”

Briefly, he puts his head into his hands and takes a breath, “Look, I know it’s bizarre and there are power issues at play here. I was an idiot for thinking I could walk in here with a couple of coffees and get free and enthusiastic consent. I don't know why I came. It’s probably better that I leave.”

You cut him off, “No. Give me a chance to think,” you sip the dregs of your coffee. “Well, what do I get out of this?”

He looks up sharply, his chin jutting. His voice is, for the moment, as dangerous as at your last meeting.

“I don’t pay for sex.”

“Did I ask to be paid?”

You hold his gaze until he averts his.

“I’m going to ask you again: what do I get out of this?”

Unable to back down from the challenge, he snaps back: “Come on. I know I make you cream yourself.”

His sudden vulgarity hits you like a truck. As if commanded by his words, you feel renewed wetness between your thighs.

Apologetically, he continues, “I’m offering mutual pleasure, if you want to accept it. If I can’t make you come hard every single time, then I’ll consider the day a failure.”

You look at him, eyes caught again by his. That cocksure smile of his. You’re charmed in spite of yourself. What is wrong with you? You take in a deep breath:

“Ok.”

His smile broadens even as he bites his lower lip. He moves as if towards you. As he opens his mouth to speak, (or to do something else) you stop him.

“-Before you even touch me, we need to outline some rules.”

Five walks through the front door into the academy entrance hall. As he turns to jog up the stairs, he’s greeted by happy cry and a tight hug around the legs.

“Uncle FIVE!”

“Hey little man”, Five pets the little boy’s hair.

“Blink me!”

“Santi…”

“Pleeeease!”

With an indulgent sigh, Five picks up Santi and blinks them to the top of the flight of stairs, causing him to laugh shrilly. With another flash, they’re back in the entrance hall again.

“Again!”

“Not now little guy, I'm busy.”

"I duped a BUTTERFLY today!"

"Well done! You're really coming along. How many did you make?"

"I made thirty in five minutes!"

"That's our clever little guy- but can you tell me more about it later? I really am busy right now."

As he sets Santi down, Lila makes an appearance from the living room, smiling at him with wry amusement.

“Busy old Uncle Five, hey? Where you been?”

“That’s private.”

He begins to stride up the stairs that lead to the attic.

“Private in an ‘I have piles’ sort of way, or private as in: ‘the world is ending again and I’m being a cagey little motherfucker’?”

Santi giggles but Five ignores her, now on the second flight.

“I know you’re doing a job for Herb and fu-messed it up somehow.”

“None of your business Lila.”

She hangs off the first-floor banister, leaning to watch him as he stomps towards the third floor.

“I’ll find ooo-ut.”

His bedroom door slams and Lila turns, smilingly to ruffle Santi’s hair.

“Hey monster. Daddy’s playing video games- you fancy it?”

“Yeah!” Santi yells, with the shrill enthusiasm only a six-year-old can muster.

“Go on then, he’s with Uncle Luther.”

As he scampers off, she watches him lovingly. Then, she returns to the living room, pulling the file out from beneath a couch cushion before flopping down upon it, fully stretched out. They all agreed that Five had been acting weird over these last few days: he’d spent even more time than usual holed up in his room and his eyes were dark-circled. He was acting with the frenetic energy she associated with his ‘apocalypse’ mode.

Bullying Herb into handing over the file was fairly easy, although he was stubborn to the last about revealing why it was making Five act so weird. She’d briefly considered pulling out his fingernails with pliers, but the thought of what Diego would say restrained her. Plus, she’d grown to like the little guy. Herb had assured her repeatedly that this wasn’t apocalypse-based weirdness, but what sort of mother would she be if she didn’t make sure?

…and what sort of frenemy would she be if she didn’t keep her nose firmly in Five’s business?

Smirking, she opened up the file and looked again at the information inside: a kill order (both signed off and subsequently revoked by Herb) and then the usual information sheet, complete with an image of the mark. She was pretty with a slightly goofy smile. Unremarkable, but probably nice enough.

She was an account manager for some PR firm or marketing agency or whatever: something like that, anyway. She was of no real significance: brought up by unremarkable parents, graduated college with an unremarkable degree, involved in some minor political activism, (healthcare equity, racial and LGBTQ+ equality): she was just your basic SJW yuppie-type. Killing her should have been as simple as blinking into her unremarkable apartment and shooting her in the unremarkable head.

Yet, for some reason, he hadn’t.

Five lies on his bed, more tired than he would have expected given the relatively mild exertions of the morning. He hadn’t been sleeping well, spending too many hours lying awake, fucking his fist and thinking about her. He finds himself excited to be seeing her again so soon, (only excited because he can fuck her, of course). He can barely believe he's actually going to do what he’s been guiltily fantasizing about ever since that night.

He knows his family had noticed something amiss: he'd been snappish to everyone but Santi over these last few days. It was hard to have patience and hard to concentrate with indecision, moral scruples and decidedly immoral fantasies bouncing around his head.

First there was the power imbalance and then, not unrelated, there was the age thing...but what was he supposed to do? How many women his own age would want to fuck someone who looked as young as he did? And would he want to fuck the sort of woman in her sixties who would happily fuck someone who looked as young as he did? The idea unsettled him on a visceral level. So was he supposed to pursue teen or college girls? That was even worse: sickening, in fact.

Someone in the middle seemed the only option for him. Late twenties or thirties: old enough to consent to him understanding all the nuances and young enough that she was unlikely to be getting off on fucking someone who looked young enough to be her son or grandson.

All these worries had been shoved aside by the greater need to get her out of his head. It was selfish, he knew, but he’d pretty much decided right there in that bar that he needed to at least ask her. The last few days of self-inflicted torture had just been putting it off. He needed closure: to know for sure that she was off the table.

To learn that she was, in fact, very much ON the table had been a revelation beyond his wildest dreams. And he was seeing her tomorrow.

Rolling onto his back, he reached down his pants and gave his boner a healthy twang. He decided against jerking off: there had been quite enough of that over the last few days. A bit of abstinence now would only heighten his anticipation of the following day.

Masterpost

Alternatively, join me on A03. Here is a link to the whole series

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