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Hi
Saw this and thought of Bat Eddie from Burning Yarrow - imagine him doing this while in his Little Witch’s pocket or on her lap 😊🫠
https://www.facebook.com/share/r/19UdWbmeyH/?mibextid=wwXIfr
🦇
I am SCREECHING. That sound is so cuteeeeeeeeeeeeee. Omg he would purr in her pocket. I'm sobbing.
Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline
Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence/some infrequent gore, swearing, animal death, no beta, death in childbirth (mentioned, not described), abusive parents, suicide, spiders/bugs, grief/mourning; light smut; blood; murder
Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?
Chapter Summary: The end. 4047 words.
1987 The new year
“Do you think she’ll like it?”
Mel nodded. “She will.”
He looked at their creation; it had to be perfect. Eddie wasn’t sure a thing like him was capable of perfection, but for you, he’d try. “Thank you,”
“No problem,” Mel replied, nonchalance in tone but Eddie knew her better than that.
“I mean it, Melissa. You’re a good friend to her. To me.”
Mel squirmed under Eddie’s serious gaze. She blushed, shrugging, and turning to leave.
“Just before you go!” Eddie rushed to say. “I, ah… I heard that you had discovered how Steve Harrington came to haunt you?”
Her head tilted in reply, just a curious small movement that meant to ask how he’d heard about it.
“Hailey mentioned it… Said you’d been working with Ev on…” Eddie paused, unsure what to call it. “Death… craft?”
Mel almost laughed. “Some of us know our magic early. We figure out our abilities. Others… like me… Haven’t entirely grasped the scope of what we can do… I, apparently, channel ghosts… Or something like that,”
“Something like that,” he repeated. “And, the door is open now?”
Steve Harrington’s ghost did a lot of things. One of them was leaving a door between the living and the dead open. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on who you asked, that particular door existed somewhere within Mel.
Mel considered Eddie’s questions. The painfully earnest and hopeful expression on his face. He looked almost human.
“I don’t know how it works. I can’t control it properly. If that’s what you’re asking for,” she told him.
Eddie nodded and looked down at the wet grass. He kicked at it a little, droplets flicking around. It would dry soon, under their creation. The January cold rendered unaffecting.
“I… I thought you never really had…”
“A family? Anyone who cared about me?” Eddie finished for Mel. She winced at his bitterness. “Sorry… I did not mean for that to come out like that… My mother died having me. She’s who… I thought maybe…”
If any of the other witches had been standing in Mel’s place, they would have been offering already. They would have been consoling or planning or promising. But it wasn’t them. It was Mel. And Mel did what she did best. She listened.
“If she is there… Wherever there is. On the other side. If she’s there and has always been there, I want to make sure she sees this. I need to know she didn’t see what I had become and turn away in shame. I need her to know that…” Eddie’s jaw clenched. He felt raw and exposed. “I want her to know…”
Mel approached Eddie like he was an injured animal. She was intuitive; she knew that was exactly what he was. Slowly, she put her hand on his arm. “We can try. I’ll try.”
…
You frowned at the tiny white petals. How they formed dozens of flowers. And how the flowers grouped together and grew wildly. Yarrow. Yarrow was growing from your bed. Following the stem down to the wooden frame, you found no glue or magic trick. Yarrow was, very literally and quite suddenly, growing from your bed.
“Do you know anything about this?” you asked Eddie when he wandered into the room.
“I thought it was you,”
“Why would it be me?”
He snorted. “Because you are constantly gardening in unorthodox places,”
“I am?”
“You are.”
Eddie loved the surprised and confused expression on your face. Sometimes you knew yourself well. Other times, not at all. He detoured from what he was doing to pull you into a hug.
“Perhaps it is an omen,”
“Not one that I know of,”
“And, of course, you do know all,” he teased.
He loved the faux-annoyed squeaking sound you made. He loved how you melted into him, still eyeing the yarrow suspiciously. God, he loved you.
“Speaking of mysterious,” you said, pushing off him with your palms flat to his chest. “What were you and Mel doing this morning?”
“I accompanied her on her morning walk. You know what happens to her back if she doesn’t go on her muscle tension walks.”
You narrowed your eyes at him and hummed. “Once is happenstance. Two is a coincidence. But three… If one more out of the ordinary thing comes to pass…”
“You’ll what?” Eddie poked, shaking his head at you. It was difficult to hide anything from you, but he could not wait to tell Kelsey about the yarrow. She had been right.
You said nothing, just trust-fell back into his arms.
“I asked her about what she’s been doing with Ev,” Eddie confessed. He kicked himself for not thinking of the cover sooner. Nothing worked better than the truth.
“The ghost stuff?”
“Yes. I’ve been thinking about my mother.”
That got your attention. You stepped out of the hug again.
“Don’t look at me like that,”
“Like what?” you asked.
“Like I’m a poor broken bat once more,”
“That’s not what I think of you. You know that,”
“And yet you look wounded on my behalf,” he stated bluntly.
You nodded. “Sorry. I’m sorry… Um… Can she do it? Mel?”
Eddie shrugged. “She doesn’t know. She’ll try.”
You nodded again. “Can I ask… why? Or… maybe… What do you want to ask your mother?”
“Nothing. There’s nothing I can ask of her. I just want her to know that this is it.” Eddie gestured to himself as he spoke.
“You mean you? That this is your… final form, so to speak?”
“Yeah… And it would be… nice… to meet her. And for her to meet you.”
The room was quiet for only a second. Then, “If it doesn’t work with Mel, I can try. We can-”
Eddie silenced you with a kiss. The conversation didn’t need to happen. He knew you’d go to the ends of your magic for him. And nothing about that was taken for granted.
…
The sun was only just rising on the final day of January. It had been a cold winter. Snow had fallen on Hawkins in blankets, not thawing even when the weatherman promised it would. You would not let Hawkins burn anymore, so you cleansed it with water instead.
Eddie had spent the night asleep, curled up in his bat form with you. As the bedroom slowly lit up, you mumbled out the spell and he was back in his body.
“My love,” he whispered, lips cool on your neck. “I sensed your sleep was alive with story,”
“That-” a yawn, “-is a very dramatic way of asking if I dreamt. Almost Shakespearian,”
“You dreamt a dream tonight?”
“Yes, but dreamers often lie,” you recited back.
“In bed asleep, while they do dream things true,”
“Alright. End scene. Besides… I don’t think you want my dream to come true. You were in it and you were not happy,” you told him, wriggling yourself backward to be as spooned into him as possible.
“Do tell.”
It took a moment to catch the sleeping story before it faded into nothingness. Likely, it was inspired by your spell making project; it had begun as a joke, but you were sure you could resize yourself small enough to quite literally ride bat Eddie into the sunset.
“I was a bat too,” you started.
You had been a bat, swooping through pretty pink skies and fluffy white clouds. You’d chased shooting stars and nuzzled together with Eddie high up in Hawkins’ tallest trees. The other bats had kept their distance from you, as they had with Eddie. Then, the largest of the Eptesicus fuscus decided to gift you crunchy beetles and other tasty snacks.
“Wait!” Eddie interjected.
Before he could say anything, you cackled. “That is exactly what you did in the dream! You were very jealous that another bat wanted my attention,”
“What did the other bat want your attention for?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know. It was a real bat. Not like us. So probably to make bat babies. Don’t worry. I was not into it in the dream. Nor am I in real life.”
Eddie squeezed you tight in his arms, making a small huffing sound.
“Jealous of a make-believe animal,” you snickered.
Eddie’s smile was pressed into the nape of your neck. You felt him drag his teeth along your skin. The rolling want rippled down your body. The scent of jasmine was still strong from their night bloom. You glanced at them on the bedroom windowsill.
“Quiz me?” Eddie asked then, sucking all the sensuality from the moment.
You audibly wined, much to his pleasure. “It’s so early,” you complained, though it wasn’t your greatest grievance.
“It’s never too early to learn the craft,”
“Ugh. Fine. But only because you’re cute.”
Eddie screeched celebratorily, letting you roll out of his arms and turn to face him. He sat up and clapped his hands together.
“Heliotrope oil?” you began.
“To induce premonitions,”
“Correct. Polypody?”
“Nightmares,”
“Buckthorn?”
“Protection,”
“Um… Celandine?”
“That,” Eddie pointed at you, “is a cantrip!” he accused. You raised an eyebrow. “Are you referring to greater celandine or lesser celandine?”
You laughed. “Eddie. I don’t know. It wasn’t a trick question. Which is the one with the superstition?”
“Greater,” he told you like it wasn’t funny. “And, so what if it is superstition? Isn’t that what we are?”
A spacey feeling overtook you for a moment. “Woah… déjà vu…” You shook it from your head and looked back at Eddie. “Oh god… You still want to answer the question, don’t you?”
“It can predict death, greater celandine. For someone with a terminal illness,”
“Can it? How does a flower do that?” you teased.
“Place a stem of it on their head. If they cry, they will live. If they begin to sing, they are doomed to death,”
“I wonder what they sing,”
“Another One Bites the Dust presumably,” Eddie answered without skipping a beat.
It was impossible not to laugh; whether it was because the joke was genuinely funny or because of the smug and expecting grin on Eddie’s face, it was hard to tell.
“So dumb!”
“Hey!” Eddie yelped, diving back under the covers and reaching out for you.
Some things needed to be studied to be mastered. You were learning how magic worked around the existence of Eddie. For his part, he was a student of the basics. Beginning with the very foundations of the craft. Other things needed not a guiding grimoire or senior supervision, for those things came easily -
Kisses trailing over the softness of your belly and down. Hands wrapped around Eddie, thumb circling the tip. Bloody bites licked clean and healed without scarring.
Your favourite part of sex was the moments just before Eddie climaxed. Somehow, in his monstrousness, a rumbling sound came from deep within him while he simultaneously made a pathetic whining noise. It was always eerie and beautiful and sexy.
Eddie’s favourite part was the moments just after, the way you came down from the high. A ragdoll body, fucked out and momentarily broken. He’d position you to be comfortable, leave you for a vampire second to get water and something sugary. You’d giggle, dumb, letting him tip the drink into your mouth. Often then, before sanity returned to either of you, you’d look at him with that expression. Do something weird, it would say, that pretty face of yours.
Eddie had forgotten what it felt like to have an alive, human body. He also loved to play the role of the freak. Loved to see how far he could go before you’d feel disgust. Loved you so fully and so intensely, that every part of your existence was a work of art all on its own.
Naturally then, he’d push his tongue up your nose. Use his fanged teeth to clean unidentifiable gunk from under your nails. Bite the tender flesh above your belly button, watch the blood pool, then body-shot it out. Spit in your mouth.
He’d lick you clean of sweat, reporting on the different flavours as he did so (the sweat that rolled down the small of your back was the best). Take strands of hair from your head and thread them through his teeth, pulling at them like dental floss. Lay his head on your body and listen to the sounds inside; he could tell you when you’d need to use the bathroom before you could even feel it.
Eddie catalogued your body in an effort to see if anything that it made was consumable to a vampire like blood was. Sweat and tears had made the list. Tears tasted salty sweet and none went to waste. He was like a truffle pig, sniffing his way across the plains of your body, searching ferally for that edible high.
You had yet to feel disgust. You doubted you ever would. It all made you feel so very loved so very desired.
Do something weird.
Eddie gripped your face and licked at it like a long-lost St. Bernard reunited with its owner.
“I have a surprise for you,” he whispered when he finished cleaning your face. You tasted like the chamomile balm you wore to bed.
“A surprise?” you whispered back.
Eddie nodded. “It’s in the woods,”
“But it’s so cold,” you complained, wriggling down into the heat of the bed.
“You’ll be warm soon. I promise. Let’s go.”
…
“It’s the right day,” Ash said to nobody in particular from her place at the window. She was keeping watch, tasked with sounding the alarm when you returned from the woods with Eddie. “The thirty-first. Three represents creativity and growth and self-expression. One for new beginnings. So, thirty-one is about pursuing your passions and starting a new chapter in your life. And, thirty-one is a manifestation number,”
“You do remember we were all raised by Jo ‘777’ Avery, right?” Hailey quipped. “We know what thirty-one means,”
“So does Eddie. He picked it on purpose,” Mel told them as she finished working on the apotropaic besom that would be placed on your front doorstep.
“Of course he did,” Meg said dreamily.
“Wait!” Kelsey’s eyes were wide. “Jo! Her soul cursed to take the shape of something she wasn’t… Like Eddie. What if-”
“It’s not the same. She did it to herself, remember? You can’t uncurse what went willingly into the hex,” Mel soberly offered.
The witches fell silent. Jo had been older than Sally and Gillian. Maybe even Penelope. She spent half her life in the mortal world, watching painters and sculptors and all the artists come and go. She was less muse and more quiet critic. In February of 1897, she grew ill. Jo called it heartsick. The angel numbers she had always relied on meant nothing anymore. Her life, instead, became guided by an American creative by the name of Ivan Le Lorraine Albright.
Jo watched him grow. Watched him paint. Watch his style linger on the wrong side of the cusp of brilliance. The coven often found her scribbling out spells and practicing rituals none of them recognised. Something was terribly wrong.
Then, one day in 1929, Jo conjured a monster named Ida. She poured herself into Ida. Magic and soul and all. Ivan painted frantically, a new style born, a master of the macabre crowned. As Ida was painted onto the canvas, Jo’s body faded into the abyss. Ida dragged her mother into the ink and they were no more.
The finished piece – Into the World There Came a Soul Called Ida – would be gifted to the Art Institute of Chicago. The coven sometimes visited Jo. Felt her there. Felt the energy behind the sick brushstrokes.
“Jo would have loved this. A witch and a vampire? The unholiness of it all?” Ev noted. She was sitting next to Meg, pulling petals from camellias, pansies, and cyclamens to scatter through your home. Meg held the bowl.
“We’ve always been like this. Haven’t we?” Ash asked.
“Driven into the shadows by love or madness?”
“No, I mean… Well, yes… But I think that part might just be womanhood. Hiding the unsanitary bits. I mean we as in witches. We have always broken our own rules,” Ash replied.
The coven hushed again. Throughout history, witches had fallen in love with humans and fae and other unblessed creatures. They had broken law and lore. They had crossed lines and made new ones. But somehow, you and Eddie had been punished the hardest. It didn’t make sense to them.
“I miss Jo,” Meg said.
“I miss them all,” Hailey agreed, her paintbrush going still, only ‘congrats’ coloured.
“So do I. But I’m still angry,” Kelsey admitted. “And I want to be better than them,”
“We are. Being here. Bearing witness to this…” Ev assured her.
“Can you imagine how not normal Jo would have been about Eddie’s teeth?” Meg laughed.
The coven giggled, then continued their snappy back-and-forth conversation while they waited. They speculated about guest lists. The humans? Probably. Cyprian the fae and Randy the wolf? Maybe. What remained of the Catskills coven? Unlikely. And what of tradition? Would the rings be passed from guest to guest, filling with love and best wishes? Handfasting?
When they ran out of things to place bets on, they tried to wring details from Mel about her sessions with Eddie and his mother. Though she was not sworn to secrecy, she already felt she was imposing on their privacy by being in the room. It was better when you were there. Eddie was happier and his mother was brighter. Both metaphorically and physically. The other witches were dying to know what happened during those tender and tragic moments, not realising that each of them had formed a personal and unique relationship with Eddie too.
Kels and Eddie felt like old friends, which of course, they were. They were as comfortable as siblings, which meant Eddie often gravitated toward her house when he was bored. When bickering, they’d refer to each other as Edward and Fern. You watched them playfight like puppies left alone.
Ev’s affinity for darkness lent itself to Eddie’s more nefarious side. She was his armorer and revelled in his stories of justice served. Hailey and Eddie had a two-person book club. Meg was teaching him how to cook and bake all of your favourites. And Ash, once she found out Eddie already knew how to sew, roped him into other textile crafts.
Kelsey looked down at the journal in her hands. The story of you and Eddie. She would write it all down. The lonely vampire. The little witch. The grief and betrayal. The bed of yarrow. The love, the love, oh, the love. Maybe, one day, you’d be gifted the book. Maybe not. Kelsey wasn’t sure how it all ended just yet. As she sat with her sisters, preparing for a party, she was only sure that you were all exactly where you were meant to be.
…
The January sunrise filtered through the flatlands. Rainbows refracted off snowflakes. The tips of your boots were already soaking through and it almost hurt to breathe. About halfway to the woods, Eddie had become a makeshift blindfold, hands covering your eyes, swearing that braving the cold would be worth it.
“Is this what you and Mel have been up to? Did you make a new gate or something?”
“You’ll see,” was all he’d say.
Are we going to breakfast with the foxes? That’d be nice.
Is there another bat that needs saving out here?
If you want to build a tree house, Kels is really who you should be waking up.
Did you find another mushroom circle and need me to identify if it’s fae or not?
You’ll see. You’ll see. You’ll see.
Then, you did.
“Okay… Open!”
Eddie’s hands left your face.
There, a structure. Not really a building. Something else. A dome. As tall as a house with a matching circumference.
“What…”
A dome that appeared to be solid. It had an opaque, matte coating. The harder you looked at it, the less you could tell if the trees were growing through it or if they’d been cut to shape. The dome shimmered, like a reflection on water. Like it wasn’t made to be looked at. Like it was offended at the mere thought of being looked at.
You took tentative steps towards it. Slowly, carefully, you reached out to touch the dome. It was hard. Real. And… warm?
Turning back to Eddie, he was watching you carefully.
“You win. I have no idea what this is,” you admitted.
With his best strut, Eddie walked by and knocked on the dome three times. A slit in the surface appeared. A door, ajar.
“After you,” Eddie invited.
You let the heat emanating from the dome pull you inside.
It was bright; you had no trouble seeing, but your brain was still struggling to process the information your senses were providing.
The shape of the dome had completely disappeared. You would have not known you were inside at all, if it weren’t for the snow and leaves falling, hitting something invisible above and around you, then sliding around it. Touching the wall, it still felt solid and hard, even if you couldn’t see it.
“It’s like… like a reverse snow globe…” you marvelled.
The air inside was warm and still, cut off from whatever was happening in the world. The dome muffled the sounds outside too. It wasn’t silent, but the whistling wind was muted into comforting white noise.
Eddie had followed you inside, clicking the door that could only be opened and closed by him into place. The magic in the spell was linked to Eddie. That meant it wouldn’t last forever, Mel had warned him. It would serve a purpose, then fade away.
Eddie didn’t need the dome forever, only a moment. You were his forever. If all went well.
You’d started to rub your hands over the warm grass and dry bark of the trees. They hadn’t been touched by the snow in days, you figured. They’d shaken winter off in the greenhouse environment.
Eddie had to say your name three times to pull your attention to him. He folded himself down onto the ground next to you.
“This is beautiful… This is what you and Mel were doing out here?” you asked, too in awe of the dome to see the beautiful determination on Eddie’s face.
He nodded, reaching out to catch your chin in his hand, gently redirecting your gaze to him. “My little witch…”
Your joy gave way to curiosity. Whatever he was doing, he’d not done it before.
“My love… I am the last of my kind at what feels like the beginning of my life; an endling, with no right to start something. But I defy that. Like I have defied… everything my life and death dared offer. Until you.”
There was something in his tone that had an immediate effect on you. Your nose tingled and your eyes stung. Eddie’s choice of words dipped back into the sixteenth century when he was most serious. He lost the carefree cadence of the 1980s.
“I have loved you from the moment I saw you. I love you more every single time I see you. Blood of my blood. Body of my body. Soul of my soul.”
The gravity of the moment got caught in your throat. It was with dizzying clarity you reached out for Eddie, for stability. He took your hands and tangled his fingers between yours.
“I was born for nothing but this, but I would live it all again if it brought me to you. The agony of life and the loneliness of death. The void of a hex. I would do it all again and again if it kept me on a pathway to you.”
You were cemented still in the darkness of his eyes. Jaw clenched, breath still, mouth dry. Something smelt of yarrow and apple, though you were not of the mindset to find the source. More than likely, there wasn’t one at all.
“My little witch, all that I have is yours. All that I am, I give freely. Would you seal my fate and bless me with your hand in marriage?”
End note: 92,965 words and we have come to the end of our story. I have been writing this for over a year and have poured so, so much time, love, energy, and commitment into it. So much of my soul is in these pages.
Whatever you came for - entertainment, escapism, Eddie, witchcraft, company, love - I hope you found in Burning Yarrow.
I would deeply appreciate to hear from you. Even if you can't quantify or consolidate your feelings into words, just a little note to let me know that this project has meant something to someone other than me.
Finally, thank you to the real life Kelsey/Kelso @toomanyacorns and real life Mel @kookygranger for the historical knowledge and witchy inspiration. And to all the other women who snuck their way into this world. I love you all!
Until next story... xo Rhi
P.S. The Grimoire and timeline Tumblr posts are complete.
P.P.S. Thank you to the following freaks for helping me think of weird shit for Eddie to do in chapter 31: @jo-harrington @myosotisa @bettyfrommars @mopeymopeymouse @munson-blurbs
Fic Taglist: @paranoidmunson @idkidknemore @paprikaquinn @stardustworlds @loz-brooke @wyverntatty @vintagehellfire @dark-academia-slut @scarletwitchwhore @becks1002 @mrsdollardog @heyndrix @luceneraium @rosaline-black @devilinthepalemoonlite @goldencherriess @iamwhisperingstars @wiltedwonderland @blueywrites @breezybeesposts @jadehowlettthewolf @spikesvamp79 @foreveranexpatsposts @tortoiseshellspells @wingedpeachjudgegiant @stardustmunson @live-love-be-unique @fangirling-4-ever @reanimated-alice @b-irock @gh0stlybunnie @myown-worstenemy-2003 @woozzz @cyberxlust @hiscrimsonangel @buckysbarne @m00nlight101 @word-wytch @spicysix @briasnow-blog @goth-cowgirl-03
@pastel-pillows @moviefreak1205 @awkward00noodle
All Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @sweetpeapod @thorfemmes @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @mel-the-fangirl @eddies-hid3out @siren-lungs @aheadfullofsteverogers @hiscrimsonangel @dashingdeb16 @cultish-corner
I have an idea for Burning Yarrow. I was thinking if it's possible, maybe reader can get turned into a bat just for a bit to see what it's like. I think it would be cute, eddie showing her what it's like for him in bat form. Eddie teaching her how to fly and such. Showing her his spots.
Maybe one of Eddie's little bat friends tries to court her (lol), and eddie gets jealous.
Idk just an idea.
Anon... that is actually genius. It's such a good idea that it's too big for what I have already... Fuck! ANON. BIG BRAIN! I love that. Especially the other bat trying to court her.
Are all you brilliant people going to message me ideas so good I have to do little Burning Yarrow blurbs after the final chapter?!?!
I'm screaming. Seriously, Anon. Obsessed.
Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline
Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence/some infrequent gore, swearing, animal death, no beta, death in childbirth (mentioned, not described), abusive parents, suicide, spiders/bugs, grief/mourning; light smut; warnings updated each chapter.
Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?
Chapter Summary: The promise of snow in the shadow of a falling curtain. 2172 words.
Note: The scenes in this chapter starring Ev were co-written by her IRL counterpart @vintagehellfire.
1986
November came with a cold that promised snow soon. Still, the coven continued to build and grow. While magic shimmered outward, you, Eddie, and Ev spent hours poring over grimoires and speaking with the Witches Who Came Before. If you were going to empower Eddie with some sort of supernatural ability to see the worst in people, the work had to be sound.
Ev was the natural choice to help. She worked close to death and had an affinity for darkness and transformation. It felt so good and right to be practicing witchcraft with a sister again.
“Are we still thinking touch is the best trigger?” Ev posed.
“It has to be,” Eddie answered. “This cannot go wrong. We cannot be wrong.”
You slid off the armchair and kneeled in front of where Eddie was seated on the floor, piles of books and parchment around him. “You will always have the final say. You will always be able to ignore all this.”
So as not to curse Eddie with the sight 24/7, it was decided a charmed object would suffice.
“We could use a necklace?”
“What about one of his rings,” Ev suggested, pointing to the cross ring already adorning Eddie’s hand. “We could let it charge in potion,”
“Under the next full moon,”
“Yes,” Ev nodded at you.
“Okay, so now we need the potion… Black-eyed Susan for justice and gladiolus for moral integrity and a strong sense of character,”
“Horehound for revealing the truth,”
“You have horehound? Where did you get it?” you asked her.
“I cultivated it before we came to America. I’ve had some stashed since then,”
“That’s convenient… Okay, next… Splinted fir tree wood, also for truth, but determination and hope for the future too,” you said.
“I think this may need to be a bit viler. Something more substantial too,”
“I take it you have an idea for that?”
Ev looked from you to Eddie. He grinned as he saw the wicked smile spread across her face.
“Well… In my line of work, I have access to certain things others may not…”
You blinked hard at her. “You mean… dead bodies?”
“Yes,”
“What have you done?” you asked her seriously.
“Nothing a few simple cloaking spells and glamours can’t hide,” Ev said with a casual shrug. She smiled. “If we want this magic to work, we need offerings. I can offer the ground bones of evil men,”
“Of course you can,”
“You’re not judging me, are you?” Ev teased.
“No. Nobody is. But everyone judged me for what I did, but you’ve been skulking around with dead men’s bones and a wolf boyfriend for ages.”
She laughed. “Whatever. The point is, using the bones will call a stronger power. We need to be careful,”
“We will,” Eddie said.
“And we can add our blood. Offering witch blood will prove that our magic walks in the light. That we seek to do good,” you said.
Eddie and Ev nodded.
Next was workshopping the spell.
“By the bones and branches, I call to thee. Reveal the evil that lay beneath?” Ev proposed.
“Oh, okay, I like that. Let me write this down.”
When wordsmithing and potion brewing were done, you stored all the work away. The next full moon was on the sixteenth, so casting would be postponed until then.
You walked Ev back to her house, listening as she told you about how she met her wolf.
“It was organic. The first thing we talked about was music. He loves The Misfits. I love The Misfits. Danzig over Graves. Rollins era Black Flag. Even when we disagreed we agreed. Like about when our Iron Maiden cut-off is,”
“You know, Eddie is really getting into that kind of music. Maybe they would actually get along,”
“Well… Eddie’s mortal enemy was meant to be you, so I guess next in line might be exempt too,”
“Double date?”
Ev laughed. “Double date.”
…
Finding Max Mayfield and healing her had not left your mind since the Halloween party. When you set off on your mission, you left Eddie behind. He didn’t like that you were out beyond the limits of Hawkins alone, but he understood why it had to be that way.
When the sun went down, Eddie walked to Kelsey’s house. She welcomed him in and let him sit while she pottered around, doing things that seemed very sweet and domestic, even if Eddie wasn’t sure what the purpose was.
“Can I ask you something about the coven?”
“Of course,” she answered him.
“However… you cannot tell anyone that I asked.”
Kelsey turned and looked at Eddie. She narrowed her eyes. “Anyone?” Even her?
Eddie nodded. “Anyone,” he repeated. Even you.
…
On the night of November the sixteenth, you, Ev, and Eddie took all you’d need through the woods and out the other side. Upon a small rise, you blended the Black-eyed Susan and gladiolus flowers with horehound and fir in a bowl made from oak. Ev sprinkled in her dead man bone ash.
“Blood,” you said, holding your hand out to Eddie.
Gently, he took it, biting just below your thumb. You felt his tongue swipe over the puncture, tasting you just a little before letting you go. As you let the blood drip into the potion, you glanced up at Ev, her pupils blown.
“Rude not to ask me to join in,” she quipped.
“Don’t tempt me with a good time, Ev,” Eddie replied just as quick.
“Gross. Stop it. Both of you… Eddie, give me your ring.”
You dropped Eddie’s ring into the bowl and nodded to them. Standing in a circle, holding hands, you all recited the spell. Eddie knew that his contribution to the incantation may not add any magical strength, he felt that it was the right thing to do.
“From Veritas, from Aletheia,
To Themis and her scale.
By bones and branches,
Reveal evil, let light prevail.
Under full moon,
By blood of coven,
Give this immortal power,
To morality govern.”
The wind picked up, the cold seeping in. You dropped hands and watched as the potion began to move, almost like it was alive. A bowl of sentient sludge. Writhing eels.
“What now?” Eddie asked.
“We leave it here. In the morning, the bowl will be empty save for the ring. It will be charmed, and you will have the sight,” you answered. You looked to Ev, she nodded.
“May I escort you ladies back home then, before the cold kills you?”
You let Eddie hook an arm through yours.
Ev hesitated. “I’ve actually got some other plans… I’ll see you tomorrow…”
“Plans on a full moon?” you teased.
Ev pulled a face and set off back into the woods in the direction opposite to the coven.
When you and Eddie got home, you disappeared into the apothecary. After making you tea and lighting the candles that helped you sleep, Eddie came searching for you.
“What more is there to do on this night?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe.
You turned to him. You loved him all of the time. You loved him when his eyes were wild and his lips stained with blood. You loved him when he was charming and wooing your coven sisters. You loved him when he was washing dishes and engaged in his on-going battle with figuring out the right settings on the iron. But like that, sweatpants low on his hips, scars and history on display… Hair with knotted curls and messy bangs… Doe eyes and gentle movements… You loved him most.
“Hi,” you whispered.
“Hi,” he whispered back, opening his arms in invitation.
You took a jar, the object of your search, and went to him. He held you safe while you explained.
“We never finished the spell. Your spell.”
Eddie thought back to the black hellebore and apple. How the night had melted into adoration and sex. How, come morning, Forest Hills Trailer Park suddenly didn’t seem like the type of place to cast a spell about the future. You had both decided to save it for when it felt right.
Eddie held the jar of powder and, with a blanket wrapped around you, you followed him outside. Sitting side by side on the front steps of the house grown with love and magic, you said nothing.
The night was quiet and bright, the moon gloriously round and high. Hawkins was peaceful and the coven were dreaming of new beginnings.
Eddie twisted the lid off the jar and poured half the dust into his palm. He closed his fist around it. He looked as if he were making a wish. It was a brief moment, then he uncurled his fingers and blew the dust into the fall air.
“Your turn.”
He tipped the rest of the dust into your hand and you copied what he had done. You watched the dust swirl in the breeze, twinkling with an unnatural glint.
“Thank you for the spell,” you said, your sentence punctuated with a yawn.
“Let’s get you to bed.”
…
Three things happened at the same time that night, on the eve of December. Max Mayfield returned to Hawkins, healed and full of questions for her friends. She vaguely remembered a visitor. Vaguely remembered a miracle. Vaguely remembered threatening her mother if she didn’t let her return to the small shitty town. She was different. Made both stronger and softer by what she’d been through. There was something else too, something not even Lucas could put his finger on.
It would take years for the magic to bloom in Max. When it did, your coven would be waiting.
A far more somber event was taking place just down the way from you. Steve Harrington’s ghost had begun to fade. Mel noticed it before he did. He was hardly there at all now. “This is a good thing,” she told him, but her sad eyes made him ache.
“I don’t want to go,”
“You’re meant to. There is more out there for you now,”
“But what about you?” he asked. Death had not changed Steve. He thought of others first.
She couldn’t put it into words. The feeling of being loved by Steve. The feeling of a soul ignoring death and instead, letting themselves be pulled to her.
As Steve moved on, a definitive moment, Mel crawled into bed and cried. She’d let herself grieve and she’d do it alone. Of course, you would notice her sorrow. You’d find her in the darkness and pull her back to the light of the coven. But not then. Not on that cold night.
In your house, you tried to distract yourself from Eddie’s absence by reading, then spell writing, and finally – television. MTV had a feature of new films being released soon. You made note of The Lost Boys, deciding it would be good for a cinema date night. Eventually, you retired to bed and waited up for Eddie. He’d be home from Chicago soon.
Eddie could smell it on them. Hear it in the spitting syllables of their words. And now, graced with his charmed ring, he could see their sins too.
One touch and he saw the entire span of human guilt. Not keeping off the grass. Gum stuck under desks. Fake IDs. White lies about going to the post office but actually going to eat a cheeseburger in peace. Unpaid fines, unreturned library books. A little weed in the back pocket. Teenage pranks, stolen stop signs, the accidents they caused. Running red lights. Running away from a crime scene. Running away from everything.
It was almost sweet, Eddie thought, what made some people feel shame.
Almost.
Unlicensed firearms. Running cons on elderly people. Animal cruelty. Methamphetamine cooking in a back shed. Dosages of medication that were not what the doctor prescribed. Setting fires. Hidden disks of child exploitation material. Manifestos by white men who knew how to build a bomb. Battery. Trafficking. Home invasion. Aggravated assault occasioning bodily harm. Sexual assault. Assault resulting in death.
It was easier than ever finding someone to drain. Eddie followed him out of a bar and towards the L. In a blur nobody would remember, the man was pulled into the darkness. As it happened, as the shock turned to paralysing fear, your skin broke out in goosebumps. All the way in Hawkins, you watched the hairs on your arms stand up straight.
Eddie’s teeth punctured skin and you yelped, a stab of pain coming from somewhere in you. Doubling over, you fought to breathe.
The man was tense, then limp, then dead.
Forcing deep gulps of air in, then out, you were more worried when the pain suddenly dissolved. Slowly, you got to your feet and blinked tears from your eyes.
If Eddie had felt your suffering, he’d mistaken it as the man’s.
Max’s homecoming, Steve’s final goodbye, and Eddie’s justice balanced by the price you’d always pay. Events that were determined long ago. Fated to coincidence. And would echo through time forever more.
End note: Shout out to @neonghostlights for helping to brainstorm types of sins.
THIS IS THE PENULTIMATE CHAPTER. Yep. Only one more chapter after this and it is not quite finished. So, any last requests or ideas need to be sent to me ASAP if you wanna find yourself in the story.
The Grimoire and timeline are updated. Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated, especially now in the final hour.
Fic Taglist: @paranoidmunson @idkidknemore @paprikaquinn @stardustworlds @loz-brooke @wyverntatty @vintagehellfire @dark-academia-slut @scarletwitchwhore @becks1002 @mrsdollardog @heyndrix @luceneraium @rosaline-black @devilinthepalemoonlite @goldencherriess @iamwhisperingstars @wiltedwonderland @blueywrites @breezybeesposts @jadehowlettthewolf @spikesvamp79 @foreveranexpatsposts @tortoiseshellspells @wingedpeachjudgegiant @stardustmunson @live-love-be-unique @fangirling-4-ever @reanimated-alice @b-irock @gh0stlybunnie @myown-worstenemy-2003 @woozzz @cyberxlust @hiscrimsonangel @buckysbarne @m00nlight101 @word-wytch @spicysix @briasnow-blog @goth-cowgirl-03 @pastel-pillows @moviefreak1205
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Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline
Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence/some infrequent gore, swearing, animal death, no beta, death in childbirth (mentioned, not described), abusive parents, suicide, spiders/bugs, grief/mourning; light smut; warnings updated each chapter.
Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?
Chapter Summary: Seven witches and a vampire walk into a human Halloween party in Hawkins, Indiana. 3676 words.
1986
When the witches came to Hawkins, only the animals sensed a change. Squirrels and cottontail rabbits played in the fields. Foxes and deer lined the horizon. Bats swooped, each of them enamored with Eddie – a bat, from what they could tell, but different.
“They think I’m a God,” Eddie had told you once he realised the influence he had on them.
You’d laughed at him. “Well, I think they think you’re a fun toy.”
The flatlands that sprouted homes were surrounded by a fauna-filled welcoming party that would have given any mortal driving by a heart attack. Naturally, you’d been building wards and glamours to keep the coven safe.
When you felt your sisters close, you walked by each of their homes. Eddie had made good on his promise to give them something. Beside the front door to each of the houses was a potted plant that he had grown. The plants he chose were, to him, symbolic of the witch who would take over care of it.
Asphodel for Ev, carolina for Meg, globe thistle for Mel, bluebell for Ash, lycoris for Hailey, and though a little cheesy, a black bat plant for Kelsey.
The fall sun was out, so Eddie would see the witches’ arrival in his small and fluffy form. He settled on your shoulder as you stood and watched the cars go from pinpricks on the horizon to loud and finally, finally, here.
Meg came screaming out of her car. “Does he want pats?!” She bypassed you entirely, holding her hands out for Eddie. If he felt demeaned, he didn’t let on. Eddie let Meg scoop him up and cradle him in her hands. She wandered off with no further greetings.
“How’s he gonna feel about that?” Kelsey asked, pulling you into a hug immediately.
“He is very preoccupied with making a good impression. It’s sweet actually. So… he will probably let her baby him for hours.”
She laughed then looked at you seriously. “Hi,”
“Hi,”
“I’ve missed you,”
“Stop, you’ll make me cry,” you said, holding in your feelings. “So, uh, where…” Turning around, you saw Meg and Mel’s empty cars. “Where are the others?”
“Uh… There’s Ev,” Kelsey pointed.
Ev was already on the edge of the woods, befriending the fox family you’d come to love. A little further in, Mel was taking photos of the old trees.
Suddenly, Hailey’s voice cut through the air. “Every room has bookshelves!”
As you and Kelsey walked to Hailey’s house, you noticed Ash, suspiciously whispering into her garden of dahlias, pointing to the bluebell Eddie left on her porch.
“Guess the fae boyfriend’s moving in too,”
“She told you?!” you screeched.
“And you told Eddie, guessing by that bluebell,”
“Oh, if you think that’s on the nose, wait till you see what he picked for you.”
…
By the last week of October, your coven was well on its way to establishment. Each witch had a list of things they felt were required to feel at home. Mostly, they worked on their houses and gardens. More wards were put in place not only around the valley but around all of Hawkins. The witches embedded themselves in the fabric of the town, starting the long process of helping it flourish again.
Your sisters were excited at the extended invitation to the Byers Halloween party by Dustin. Costumes were the topic of conversation over forest walks and shared dinners. Eddie continued to charm everyone with his mysteriousness when asked what he would be going as. Bets were being placed. He’d pick something cool or clever. He’d be beautiful.
…
You could not have been more different if you tried.
Eddie wore his hair in a low bun. The blue long-sleeved polo shirt and dark bootcut jeans were so normal it made you feel uncomfortable. As requested, you’d performed a simple illusion spell to make his black boots appear brown. It was only when he held the round, orange, plush toy cat did it make any sense.
“Jon Arbuckle,” he announced.
“No, yeah, I figured when you got the toy at Walmart… It’s just… You look…”
Eddie grinned. He saw how unsettled you were.
“I… Um. I think you need something else,” you told him. Reaching out for his ginger cat, he let you take it. Closing your eyes and expanding the illusion spell, you charmed the toy into looking like the actual Garfield. “Here… This helps.”
Eddie took the cat with a shrug. “And you?” He looked you up and down with a predatory gaze. It made your spine arch involuntarily. “I’m afraid I do not recognise this character.”
There was no magic in your costume – just good old fashion arts and crafts. You wore a very, very long yellow-blonde wig and a golden headpiece with a red jewel at its center. Your white dress was also adorned with golden armour. The knee-high boots were painted gold too. More painted plastic armour on your arms and a plastic sword held high.
“Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-Raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!” you proclaimed. “Princess of Power!”
Eddie cackled.
“She’s from Masters of the Universe. She’s very, very cool,”
“I believe you,” Eddie replied. “You look every part the Princess of Power.”
When you joined the coven by the cars, each looked more confused than the last. Kelsey was the first to break the silence.
“Uh… Nice costumes,” she said.
“This is Garfield,” Eddie replied, holding the cat out.
“It sure is, buddy. This isn’t going to weird the humans out at all.”
Kelsey and Mel sat in the back of your car as you drove.
“The makeup suits you,” Eddie told Mel.
“Yeah, I know this is a costume, but this look is like… It’s working for you,” you added.
Mel, in her Siouxie-best black just shrugged. “Stole a lot of the clothes from Ev.”
In Meg’s car, Ash was giving the other three witches a stern talking to about what she believed were ‘cop out’ costumes.
“Dude, I’m not in costume,” Meg argued. “These are just my clothes!”
“Every year you do this, Ash…”
“What’s the point in being a witch if you don’t do Halloween?” she frowned.
“What’s the point in going as Sandy if you don’t have someone going as Danny?” Hailey asked.
“Maybe she does,” Meg mumbled.
All the girls whispered out little ohhhhhhhhs at Ash’s expense. They wondered, pointedly and out loud, if fae do Halloween. What does a fairy dressed like Danny Zuko look like anyway?
“I left the Catskills for this?” Ash whined, secretly amused, and very much comforted by the fact the coven seemed to be accepting of her fae friend.
…
“You came!” Robin was very drunk, therefore unable to hide her true emotions, which were a combination of surprise, fear, excitement, and grief.
“I’m Jon and this is Garfield,” Eddie introduced before you could say anything.
Robin looked at him carefully. “I kinda thought you’d, you know, come as Dracula or something,”
“He’s aiming for soft and harmless,” you explained. “But if you want stereotypical vampire, Ev’s got you covered.”
Ev waved and bared her plastic fangs.
“Riiiight…” Robin said slowly.
“YOU CAME!” Dustin yelled, pushing Robin out of the way, and beaming with pure excitement. “Oh, hey, cool costume!” he complimented Eddie. “I like your Garfield. Nice touch,”
“Thank you,”
“So, do you have to be, like, invited in formally?” he asked, voice lowering, though the music was so loud nobody would be able to hear him anyway.
“Only because I’m house trained,” Eddie whispered back.
Dustin laughed, pointing to him. “Funny. I like a… funny… vampire, I guess… Come in!”
It was only a little before 10:00 pm but the party was already raging. The Byers’ house was filled with people, some of whom you knew, some not. Everybody needed an excuse to let loose and pretend to be okay for a little while, and you felt they were owed at least that.
The backyard was lit with party lights and whatever else could be hooked up to the power. The moon was waning, with barely 4% illumination. The night was dark and cool, and fires burned in emptied-out oil kegs.
It did not take long for your coven to splinter off and enjoy the night. You sipped at the purple coloured punch Robin offered you, surprised that it had much of an effect on you at all.
“Russian recipe,” Hopper grunted as his eyes followed Eddie around the party.
Eddie, who could not drink the punch, was designated driver one of two. Sobriety would not impede his fun though. As it were, nobody would let anything impede their fun.
…
Seven witches and a vampire walk into a human Halloween party in Hawkins, Indiana.
10:14 pm
Hailey introduced herself to Nancy in the kitchen. Nancy was distracting herself from all the things brewing in her unconscious by opening bags of chips and unnecessarily pouring them into bowls.
“Is Pride and Prejudice your favourite of Jane’s work?” Hailey asked.
Nancy looked at her. “Nobody’s recognised me.” The Elizabeth Bennet costume was accurate, albeit not exactly iconic.
Hailey smiled. “You look great.”
Nancy blushed, shook her head a little. “It’s hard to pick a favourite,”
“Tell me about it. Lizzy’s got to be one of her best characters though.” She left out the part about how she’d helped Jane Austen shape Lizzy into something more than what society expected of a woman, let alone a woman in story.
Nancy nodded. “You… Sorry, what are you?”
“I’m a witch.”
Nancy hesitated. “Oh… Yes, but… What are you dressed as?”
“I’m a witch,” Hailey repeated.
“You’re a real witch who dressed up as a-”
“A witch, yeah.”
Nancy still looked confused.
“See, I have a broom.”
10:28 pm
One was in a lab coat, the other in a red puffy vest. One held a huge remote made of cardboard and glue, the other a video camera.
“You really committed,” you praised them.
“We tried to get Jonathan to come as the DeLorean but he’s trying to look cool for Nancy,” Will explained.
“I think the DeLorean is very impressive,” El added. “It would be a cool costume.”
You nodded. “He could have made it a Transformer situation… So, what did he end up coming as? I couldn’t work it out,”
“Joe Strummer,” Will replied.
“Ah, right.”
Honestly, Jonathan looked like he could have been Joe Strummer or James Dean or a young Lou Reed. Maybe one of the Beat Generation guys. All those white poet musician types ended up looking the same to you.
10:43 pm
Dustin followed Meg through the house, entirely unconvinced. “That’s gotta be a costume,”
“No, Dustin, these are just my clothes,”
“But you look like a pilgrim!”
Meg looked down at her floor length skirt. The billowing cotton. The soft corset cinching her waist. “I mean… I am hundreds of years old… and I take really good care of my clothes.”
Dustin’s mouth was agape. “But you’re magic! You have real magic and you don’t even use it to make a badass costume? And you’re a witch! Aren’t you contractually obliged to celebrate Halloween?”
“No,” Meg replied with a casual shrug. “Why are you interrogating me? There are much more worthy victims in this coven then me,”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, apparently your friend Steve Harrington is haunting Mel. And Ev is dating a werewolf, so…” And with that Meg walked away from Dustin, smirking at the chaos she’d caused.
11:02 pm
You sat in a plastic chair that was probably too close to the open flames in front of it. As you pulled it back and lined it next to Joyce, she smiled at you.
“How’s your night?” she asked politely.
“Uh… Interesting… Yours?”
She nodded and you knew what she meant. “You seem different,” she told you.
You sighed, nodded as she had. “I am. We all are, I think,”
“I think so too.”
Together you sat in comfortable silence and watched the happiness of the party.
“I was glad, you know, when I heard you were staying. Hawkins needs…”
“Help?” you guessed.
Joyce nodded. “And hope. You and your friends… It’s good.”
11:36 pm
“Why didn’t he come? It’s not like it’s a full moon,” Mike Wheeler asked Ev.
“He wasn’t invited,” she answered, looking over the top of him, searching for someone to save her from the teenage conversation.
“Ohhhhh, is it like… Like how vampires can only come in when invited? Did the stories get it wrong and that’s actually werewol-” Lucas Sinclair tried.
“No! Not like that,”
“Is it like when we all thought Dustin’s girlfriend wasn’t real because we never saw her,” Mike asked Lucas then.
“He’s real,” Ev assured them.
“Suzie’s real too,” Lucas began to explain. “They met at camp and-”
“Yeah, yeah. That’s great. Um, who told you about him? My boyfriend, I mean. Who told you?”
Mike and Lucas looked at each other, neither wanting to be the rat.
12:01 am
“You have somewhere to be?” Mel asked Eddie when she saw him watching the clock above the fireplace.
He smiled. “No. It’s… Midnight… Always feels like something is going to happen when the clock strikes twelve,”
“Sometimes it does,”
“Sometimes it does,” he agreed.
12:23 am
The juxtaposition of Erica’s soft face next to all the faux leather, duct tape, and corn syrup blood was both amusing and disconcerting.
“I thought Mad Max was Lucas’ girlfriend’s thing?” you asked her.
Erica was in the kitchen, mixing a feral concoction she was probably going to offer to her brother and all his friends. Not you though. You got a genuine Erica Sinclair smile.
“She’s still in the hospital,”
“What? Why’d nobody tell me? I’ll go and-”
“We don’t know where. Her mum took her. Wouldn’t tell Lucas anything.”
It would be easy for you to find Max. To find her and heal her. It felt a lot like meddling in human affairs though. But what were you now if not a witch that meddled? What was the worth of a rule if it prevented you from helping a teenage girl get out of pain sooner?
Erica saw it on your face. She knew scheming when she saw it. “Oh, you gonna go do some witchy stuff?”
“Maybe… So… the costume,”
“Lucas already gave me shit about it, okay?”
“Oh, no, I was gonna say it’s a cool thing to do. An ode to Max.”
Erica poured some Pabst into a red plastic cup. “To Max,”
“To Max,” you cheered. “Wait… How old are you? Gimme that.”
12.46 am
Nancy and Jonathan danced together in a bubble of their own. It didn’t matter the tempo of the song or if anyone else was on the lounge room dancefloor. They danced.
1:14 am
“Are you kidding me?! Of course you should!”
“I think there are more than enough books and films to satisfy the human curiosity for the undead,”
“Yeah, but none written by an actual undead,” Dustin continued to argue. He’d been going at it for ten minutes straight. “If you won’t write your own story, Interview with the Vampire style, then you should write about all the others… About what they get right. What they get wrong,”
“And what point would that serve?” Eddie asked.
“Well, I would want to read a book by a real vampire,”
“It may not be in the best interests of anyone to discover that vampires were indeed real. Nor that witches are. Nor the horrors that have befallen your town, Dustin,”
“No! No, man. We gotta get the truth out there!”
1:32 am
Robin and Mel found a quiet patch of grass to lie back on.
“So… He just showed up?”
“Yeah,”
“And you’ve never met him?”
“No,”
“And he doesn’t want anything?”
Mel shrugged. “I don’t know… I don’t think he really knows what he’s doing here. He could move on if he wanted.”
Robin thought about it. “What’s the afterlife like? For us, I mean?”
“For humans? We don’t know exactly. It’s almost like there is an infinite number of possibilities…”
“But Steve – Steve Harrington – has decided to haunt a witch he’s never met?”
Mel shrugged again. “I don’t think it says anything about you or the others that he’s not haunted you instead… I think he probably wants to let you all move on.”
Robin sighed deeply. “You got some sort of potion to help with that?”
“There’s no cure to grief, magical or otherwise…” Mel said softly.
“I was afraid you’d say that,” Robin replied, her fists twisting into the grass and pulling the blades free from the soil.
2:07 am
“I guess that’s what a fae Danny Zuko looks like,” Ev deadpanned.
She stood next to Kels, watching as Ash and the tiny winged creature danced around one of the drum fires. The fairy was dressed from head to toe in leather. He had glittering tanned skin and dirty blonde curls cut into a typical 80s mullet.
“She looks happy,” Kels said.
“Mmm,” Ev hummed. “Did you hear his name? Cyprian,”
“Yeah, you’re right, a fae named Cyprian is a lot better than a werewolf named Randy.”
Before Ev could respond, Lucas appeared next to the witches. “What is that?”
“That, my mortal friend, is a witch dancing with one of the fae,” Kelsey explained, wrapping an arm around Lucas’ shoulder.
“Why does it look like Billy Hargrove?”
“He, not it, and I don’t know who Billy Hargrove is, but if he’s half as hot as that fairy is, then cheers to Billy Hargrove.”
2:39 am
The night was burning away fast, you couldn’t slow it down. There was something so beautifully human about it that you wanted to keep safe. Wanted to hold it in your hands. Be in it forever.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
Eddie’s voice whispered in your ear and his arms wrapped around your waist. He caught you leaning against the back door frame, watching the world go by. His head came to rest on your shoulder.
“It has all been worth it,” you told him. “Everything we did. For them. To get them here. Everything that happened had to happen, the exact way it did.”
They were not without their scars and their grief. They were changed and could never go back. But they were alive and hopeful and strong. Your strange little humans. You’d watch over them for generations to come.
3:13 am
“Magic begins when our bodies come right to the edge of their sensory and linguistic abilities and… something… keeps going anyway…”
The party had begun to wind down. Most of the witches were getting ready to leave, and the human population had thinned out to a handful of people.
Eddie was towards the back of the assembled crowd, watching you intently.
“And now, in the witching hour when the veil is so thin… The air is thick with witchcraft.”
You were using your most dramatic voice as you strutted around a drum of fire, the entire party’s attention on you. The humans were wide-eyed and hushed.
“In this place and in this hour, we may manifest what was not there into existence…”
Your sisters were trying not to laugh.
“Who will be brave and make their wish?” you posed to the crowd.
For a moment it was silent, only the crackling of the flames audible. Even the music had been turned off. Then, someone cleared their throat and stepped forward.
“Yeah, I wanna make a wish,” Erica declared, looking entirely unbothered by the mystique. If anything, she looked like this wish was her birthright.
You conjured a candle in your hand and held it out to her. “Courage, dear heart,” you told her.
3:52 am
“The first train out of town is leaving. Come on!” Meg yelled.
Mel, Ash, Ev, and Hailey said their goodbyes and followed Meg out of the Byers’ house.
“Family breakfast tomorrow?” Ash asked you as she hugged you goodnight.
“I’ll make pancakes. Better make it a brunch though,”
“Cool. Good luck with that one,” she laughed, nodding over to where Kels had Hopper cornered and ten points deep in an argument about whether hotdogs constitute sandwiches.
“Hot dogs are a sandwich. A sandwich consists of two pieces of a type of bread plus fillings contained within the two slices. A hotdog bun is a bun sliced in two, making it two slices of bread. The only difference being that one side of the two halves are still joined. It still however, is two halves that are obviously independent of each other with a filling separating them, therefore a sandwich. One might ask, ‘well in that case, is a calzone a sandwich?’ No. A calzone is enclosed entirely in bread. The two halves are entirely connected. This makes it fit into the pie category. Not the same as a sandwich, but parallel. One might also say, ‘well what if I don't have a bun, so I use a piece of bread as a substitute.’ Yes, using only one slice of bread no longer puts it into the sandwich category. This now aligns us into the toast category. Toast being a single slice of bread being used as a vehicle for a topping.”
4:20 am
“Five! Four! Three! Two! One!” Jonathan counted down.
The clock above the fireplace struck twenty minutes past four and the room of teenagers and young adults cheered.
4:37 am
The drive home was peaceful; you kept the radio low and listened to the first rumbles of a storm that was brewing way over beyond Indianapolis. It would arrive tomorrow afternoon. You could smell it in the air.
“They’re special,” Kelsey said from the passenger seat next to you. “Your humans,”
“Even if some of them think a hotdog is not a sandwich?”
“Even if some of them think a hotdog is not a sandwich.”
After seeing Kels into her house, you and Eddie finally retired to your home.
“Happy Halloween, my beautiful little witch,” Eddie cooed when you crawled into bed with him.
“Happy Halloween, my lovely, lovely, vampire.”
End Note: Sorry for going a little M.I.A. I had writers' block (still do) and have felt a weird sort of disconnect from my online world. I'm slowly getting back into it though.
Accurate: the moon phase for October 31, 1986. Not accurate: 420 being associated with weed in 1986, I think that happened sometime in the 90s.
Also, I took a quote from A Spell in the Wild by Alice Tarbuck and paraphrased it a bit ( “Witchcraft starts when our bodies come right up to the edge of their sensory and linguistic abilities and life keeps going anyway.”).
Finally, the hotdog/sandwich argument is a direct quote from the irl Kelso, my inspo for Kelsey.
Fic Taglist: @paranoidmunson @idkidknemore @paprikaquinn @stardustworlds @loz-brooke @wyverntatty @vintagehellfire @dark-academia-slut @scarletwitchwhore @becks1002 @mrsdollardog @heyndrix @luceneraium @rosaline-black @devilinthepalemoonlite @goldencherriess @iamwhisperingstars @wiltedwonderland @blueywrites @breezybeesposts @jadehowlettthewolf @spikesvamp79 @foreveranexpatsposts @tortoiseshellspells @wingedpeachjudgegiant @stardustmunson @live-love-be-unique @fangirling-4-ever @reanimated-alice @b-irock @gh0stlybunnie @myown-worstenemy-2003 @woozzz @cyberxlust @hiscrimsonangel @buckysbarne @m00nlight101 @word-wytch @spicysix @briasnow-blog @goth-cowgirl-03 @moviefreak1205 @pastel-pillows
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Not me relistening to Bat for Lash's “The Bat’s Mouth” and thinking of Little Witch and Bat Eddie 🥹
Ohhhhhhhhh now that's a vibe
Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline
Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence/some infrequent gore, swearing, animal death, no beta, death in childbirth (mentioned, not described), abusive parents, suicide, spiders/bugs, grief/mourning; light smut; warnings updated each chapter.
Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?
Chapter Summary: You are wide awake. 2340 words.
1986
Every day Eddie watched the jar. He watched how the moon water moved, alive and with a viscosity different from regular water. He watched the apple slices dry and the sprigs of lavender go stiff. He thought if he watched closely enough, he’d see the magic working, but he never caught a glimmer of craft.
When it was time, you let him plant the enchanted seed in the new coven neighbourhood. Your home would grow furthest out, close to the shade of the woods. A spell later, you were traveling back to Forest Hills to begin packing the trailer up.
It had been months since you’d moved in, therefore you had accumulated a lot of items.
“Do you need all of these?” Eddie asked, holding up one of five shoeboxes, all packed with feathers you had found. “And is this a normal amount of feathers to find? What is wrong with the birds in Hawkins?”
“Yes and no and a lot. I told you that if you are gonna help, you can’t question every single thing you pick up,”
“I’m doing no such thing,” he rebutted.
“Eddie, you told me to cull my jar collection,”
“I stand by it. There are too many. You can collect more,”
“I use them! Frequently! And I don’t just keep any jar. All the ones I have are, like, uniquely shaped or extra sturdy!” you whined. “Asking a witch to not collect jars is just…” You shook your head, not able to find the words to express the atrocity.
Eddie smiled at you softly. “Perhaps I am not the best helper,” he conceded. “Perhaps my time would be better spent doing something else,”
“Something else like use your vampire speed to clean the bathroom, or something else like turn into a bat and sleep?”
An hour later, Eddie was asleep in one of the boxes containing clothes, and you were wrapping more empty jars in bubble wrap.
…
A monument to witchcraft and love. That’s what Eddie thought when he saw the house. It had the glorious drama of Ev’s Victorian home and the softness of the other witches’ cottages. Expansive stained glass windows. Detailed architraves, the wood so dark it appeared black. Red brick. A single-story structure, but the dome of a conservatory was visible over the roof. It extended back into the woods, settling into the landscape as if it had always been there.
Eddie thought back to all the places he had lived in. The house his father’s rage felt the brunt of as much as he did. The farm he came into adulthood on. The colony caves. The cold and lonely hotel rooms. The trees above Forest Hills. He’d never had a home, apart from your arms, but there it was. Real and in front of him.
The sun was setting over the valley as Eddie stood before the house. You’d seen it early that day, doing your final checks before okaying the move. It was your magic the house grew from, so naturally you were less awestruck by it. The floorplan and aesthetic had been born in your mind. Still, it was a beautiful thing.
“Think it will do?” you asked Eddie, coming to stand beside him.
He couldn’t tear his eyes away from it. “It’s…” How many different words were there for ‘home,’ he wondered. What language could fully communicate the depth of emotion?
“Enchanted seeds create homes, not houses,” you told him as you walked towards the front door. “Come and see.”
Eddie followed, almost expecting something to happen as he crossed the front door threshold. Once inside, Eddie clenched his jaw. It was more perfect than he could have anticipated.
The furniture was plush and comfortable, an eclectic mix of antique pieces and modern amenities. Bookshelves stood tall and waiting, ready for the library to arrive. Potted ivy trailed up and around curtain railings and along the walls.
“You never got to see my place in the Catskills. A lot of the furniture comes from there. The rest comes from the seed… It’s the kind of magic that makes me wish we could study it, you know? I want to know the science of it. How does it work?”
“It seems to me that part of the power of magic is in the unknowing,” Eddie replied, as wise as any of the Witches Who Came Before.
“It does appear to be the case,” you agreed.
For a while, you let Eddie wander aimlessly through the house.
He marvelled at the bath, huge and round, like a pond and definitely big enough for two. A huge wardrobe door that opened into a secret library. The conservatory full of thriving plants, flowers, herbs, and other living things Eddie did not have a word for. Every window a different shape but never square. Strange detailing like cat shaped doorknobs and pink quartz basins.
Eventually, Eddie sat on the end of the huge bed, its four posts grand and its linen crisp. He looked over at you and held out his hands.
“Come.”
You walked to him, taking his hands, and standing between his legs. Eddie looked up at you with those sparkling brown eyes, the adoration radiating from him.
“It’s an irrational idea, this fear I have that I’m dreaming. That I am still cursed, haunting this town until the end of time. But a vampire cannot dream. The cursed cannot dream. But still…”
Gently, you let go of Eddie’s hands and leaned into him, snaking your fingers into his hair as he pressed himself into your body, wrapping his arms around your waist.
“You are wide awake. Alive… kind of… But definitely here. With me. In our home. Soon-to-be, with our friends. Our family. And just in time for Halloween.”
He purred a happy sound, nodding into you. “A witch’s favourite holiday?” he hazarded a guess.
“Hmm, not all of us. Most of the witches I’ve known tended to find more obscure holidays to worship at the altar of. New Years is a big one, too. Alas, I am but a cliché All Hallows witch,”
“With much respect, I see that,” Eddie said. You laughed, shrugged. He looked up at you again. “You did fall in love with a vampire, after all.”
…
Far away from the rest of the world, you and Eddie spent almost a week settling into the new house. Grimoires were catalogued into one of the three library rooms. Dandelion puffs were jarred and shelved. Every trinket found its home.
Eddie tested the rainbow light that flooded the rooms, discovering that in the magic there was safety. Sunlight that filtered through the windows did not burn him. He could be free and at ease.
You explained to Eddie the importance of representing the elements within the home. Earth in the plants, wooden carpentry, and the grounding crystals. Fire in the candles, ever-burning incense, and roaring fireplaces that only ever emitted the exact level of heat you wanted. (“In summer, the flames burn cold,” you told Eddie and watched his smile grow.) Water in the mirrors, seashells, and small fountains found in the glasshouse room. Lastly, air in the wind chimes, feathers, and windows that could remain open without upsetting the temperature inside.
During the day, you began work on your garden, creating flower beds in the shape of pentagrams and sewing seeds. Borage for the butterflies and bees, primrose – I can’t live without you; angelica in case you need to break any future hexes; and yarrow, amaryllis, and polypodies.
One evening, just before sunset, you found Eddie rummaging through the apothecary pantry. As you entered the room, his manic smile told you he’d had an idea.
“What’s the story, morning glory?” you asked him, perching on a stool.
Eddie sunk to his knees and shrugged. “The fires are out… The Shire is no longer burning,”
“The Shire being… Hawkins?”
“Yes. And us. We’ve sailed to the Undying Lands,”
“You’re really making Tolkien your whole personality, huh?” you joked.
Eddie smiled up at you. “Until the next book… But what I’m saying is, now that we do not have a battle to prepare for. No conflict upon the horizon. What do we do with all of eternity?”
“Oh… My plan was to eat a lot of Meg’s cinnamon rolls… Try to get Steve Harrington to stop haunting Mel… Maybe work on a spell to make myself teeny tiny so I can ride around on you when you’re a bat…”
“Wait, seriously?”
You gave him a sly smile. “Maybe,”
“Well, I would love that… But, I was thinking a little more introspectively. Back to things we have thought about before. Like, why I am the way that I am… What that means…” He ran a finger along the leaves of the mimosa pudica plant beside him. The leaves felt his touch, curled inwards on themselves. It was one of Eddie’s favourites, the way it reacted to the world around it.
“Any new insights?” you asked softy.
“No… But… If I believe in you and in your magic and the way you make sense of the world… then I… I have to do something,”
“Do something?”
“We get back what we give, right?”
“Yeah,” you agreed. “It’s not always obvious or direct. Or timely. Or even equally fair… But, yeah… There is definitely something like the concept of karma at play. And even if there isn’t, living as if there is can only be a good thing,”
“Then I must show more grace… and gratitude… Even if I am a monster, maybe especially because I am… I can give goodness too.”
Without thinking, you slid off the stool and joined Eddie on the floor. “You already do. You don’t owe the world anything.”
Eddie smiled, first a small soft thing, almost sad, but then it twisted into something else. Ear-to-ear and full of teeth. “I owe it more than one life,”
“But if we count all the lives you have saved. Both by killing what plagued this town, and by preventing deaths at the hands of bad people-”
“Morality cannot be simple addition and subtraction. There is no math that can quantify goodness or righteousness. You know that,” Eddie cut in. He watched your face, saw the pensiveness blossom across it. “Don’t worry, my little witch, my plan is not as life-or-death as this all makes it seem… I just want to do something good for your friends,”
“Your friends,” you corrected quickly. “They’ll be your friends too. Your family. You’re part of this coven.”
Eddie reached out to cup your face in his hands. “Your coven is yours. But I will take the friendship. I have years of loneliness to make up for,”
“Then what-”
He cut you off again, this time with a kiss. You brought your hands up to his shoulders, draping your arms around his neck. Eddie pulled you into his lap and you curled into him like the leaves of the mimosa.
His mouth kissed and sucked at your neck between sentence fragments. “I’m-” kiss “going-” kiss “to plant-” lick “them-” kiss “flowers.” His punctuation a kiss that wanted to be a bite.
You were hardly listening to his words. His words and ideas and introspective musings could all wait.
Eddie laid you down on the floor, the smell of the oak still new. You arched your back and pulled him down by his collar.
“Bed,” you mumbled into his mouth.
“Why build a house if we’re not gonna use it,” he answered.
One hand splayed next to your head to keep him up, the other tickling its way under the hem of your skirt and up your thigh.
“Besides,” Eddie said. “Doesn’t feel like you can wait.” He was sliding your underwear off, throwing them across the room. He rested a hand on you, sliding an index finger through your slickness.
“I can’t,” you agreed, breathy and impatient. “Now. I want you now.”
Eddie didn’t have to be asked twice. With his pants still hanging from an ankle, he was fast to set up and slow on approach. You felt the tip of him follow the path made by his hand, gathering wetness, and shooting electricity through your body.
You melted into jelly beneath him, bliss written all over your face. Eddie loved you like this, pliable and prone to tears of ecstasy.
He held himself back, keeping his pace slow and steady. His vampire muscles screamed to go faster, to rail you into next week, but he liked pulling you apart. Liked how you unconsciously uttered strings of words like ‘full’ and ‘please’ and ‘can’t.’ Liked when you clawed at him to come closer, bit down on his shoulder.
“I love you,” he told you, mouth on your ear, tongue licking. “So. Fucking. Much.”
There was a seemingly endless amount of ways Eddie had learned could make you cum. Talking to you was a favourite for you both.
“You’re so perfect, so perfect… You feel so perfect… You’re so warm and soft and I… I want to eat you whole…”
Your response was in the pooling tears and the nodding and the slack jaw. The begging, “Please. Please.”
“I love you. I love you. I love you.” It was all it took. Your orgasm exploded moments before his. Eddie’s thrusting getting harder and faster for the few seconds he took to follow you. He had to grind his teeth together to stop himself from ripping into your neck.
You kept your eyes closed, not aware of your surroundings. When you felt Eddie’s arms slide beneath you, you smiled and hummed. He carried you to your new bed, cleaning your skin with a warm washcloth before curling himself in behind you.
With the last of your day’s energy, you tangled your fingers through his, falling asleep happily.
As Eddie listened to your breathing find its mellow night rhythm, he saw a vision of you in his mind. Hands full of flowers and foliage. A coven of audience. Glorious and beaming.
End Note: I made a small Pinterest board with inspo for their house - click here to view.
I hope you are all as well as any of us can be at a time like this. I hope this story continues to provide comfort, escapism, and fuel for daydreams. xo Rhi
Fic Taglist: @paranoidmunson @idkidknemore @paprikaquinn @stardustworlds @loz-brooke @wyverntatty @vintagehellfire @dark-academia-slut @scarletwitchwhore @becks1002 @mrsdollardog @heyndrix @luceneraium @rosaline-black @devilinthepalemoonlite @goldencherriess @iamwhisperingstars @wiltedwonderland @blueywrites @breezybeesposts @jadehowlettthewolf @spikesvamp79 @foreveranexpatsposts @tortoiseshellspells @wingedpeachjudgegiant @stardustmunson @live-love-be-unique @fangirling-4-ever @reanimated-alice @b-irock @gh0stlybunnie @myown-worstenemy-2003 @woozzz @cyberxlust @hiscrimsonangel @buckysbarne @m00nlight101 @word-wytch @spicysix @briasnow-blog @goth-cowgirl-03 @moviefreak1205 @pastel-pillows
All Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @sweetpeapod @thorfemmes @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @mel-the-fangirl @eddies-hid3out @siren-lungs @aheadfullofsteverogers @hiscrimsonangel @dashingdeb16 @cultish-corner
Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline
Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence/some infrequent gore, swearing, animal death, no beta, death in childbirth (mentioned, not described), abusive parents, suicide, spiders/bugs, grief/mourning; light smut; warnings updated each chapter.
Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?
Chapter Summary: To build a home. 2888 words.
1986
When the temperature dropped and a near-constant fog hung low over Hawkins, you were glad, being more of a winter witch than summer. You stood on the peak of a hillside and looked over the vast plains surrounding the town. The mist made everything look ghostly and romantic.
The land had been returned to the descendants of the original Native American peoples who once lived there, but with no immediate plans to reoccupy the space, your new coven had been granted permission to make home on the condition you would oversee its protection.
For the moment, you were alone on the hill. Eddie was hiding from solar rays in the trailer, listening to the radio and writing in a journal he had recently started.
There was a lot to do before your sisters arrived and you wanted it all done by then. You wanted everything to be perfect. The first dwelling of a new coven would set the tone for centuries to come. It was time to build.
The advantages of being magically blessed were many, but you’d always thought enchanted seeds had to be right up there in the top ten. You’d had seven seeds soaking in seven jars over the past seven days.
You’d lined them up and filled them to halfway with moon water. In went a seed each, apple slices, and petals. In Ash’s jar went dahlia petals, while Hailey’s had peonies. Purple mums for Meg. Foxglove for Ev. Mel’s had snapdragons and lucky last, Kelsey’s was filled with delphinium.
Now, you’d fished each seed out and planted it where their cabins, cottages, and homes were to be.
“I plant these seeds,
Where homes will grow,
By moonlight
And good intentions.
In this time,
And in this place,
A coven new
Offers protection.”
You laid on the grass in the shade of an old sycamore tree. Closing your eyes, you let yourself melt into the natural world. Bones became tree roots. Blood swapped for mud. Total harmony. Infinite peace.
The air grew cooler and the shade expanded outwards. Darkness enveloped you and your body slowed as if you were in your final resting place. That’s how he found you; not asleep but not awake.
Eddie surveyed your work. The seeds had already sprouted, grew, and bloomed. Magical in their speed. He picked one of the snapdragon flowers and squeezed the base, like you’d shown him. It opened the flower’s mouth, a tiny floral puppet. Eddie smiled to himself.
You felt their heartbeats before you saw Eddie. Sitting up, you watched the deer and her fawn meander in from the forest. She’d looked at you, poised in question. What is he? Is he safe? Given a witch’s blessing, she let her baby approach Eddie.
He too had heard their heartbeats. Eddie had remained where he was, mindful not to scare them. When the fawn appeared at his feet, he slowly opened his hand to the animal and let it eat the snapdragon from his palm.
“You would know if it was poison, right?” he asked in a quiet voice. The fawn looked up at him, long eyelashes and soft whiskers.
Eddie turned to find you standing close behind him. You were getting very good at sneaking up on him.
“Hi,” he greeted.
“Making friends?”
Eddie nodded.
“Feeding my flowers to them?”
There was an overwhelming feeling that the moment was beautifully preordained – and really, knowing fate, it probably was.
Eddie turned back to the flowers. “I thought you said they would grow into homes?”
“They will. They just need some time alone with the moon… Shall we?” You held your hand out to Eddie.
…
While you appreciated Walmart’s late night hours, their range of Halloween costumes was less than ideal. You stared at the row of wigs for a while before drifting away in search of decorations. October was a good time to find homewares you’d use all year round.
You were shaking a snow globe filled with little black bats when Eddie appeared in front of you, holding up a vampire costume. “It comes with plastic teeth,” he pointed out. “And a cape,”
You snorted. “Is that your pick? Because generic vampire would be very meta of you.”
He smiled but shook his head. “I don’t think this would put the humans at ease,”
“Probably not. So… something more friendly?”
“Yes. More… normal,” he said in a way that made ‘normal’ sound taboo. Eddie’s gaze wandered from you over to the back corner of the store. He handed you the vampire costume then walked away without further explanation.
You frowned, watching him go. Looking down at the costume in your hands, an idea sprung to mind. The red cape. You returned to the wigs.
A little later, Eddie was waiting for you when you came out of the fitting room with a white dress. You glanced at the jeans and long-sleeved blue polo top he was holding.
“I need a cat,” he told you seriously. “The children in the toy aisle are…”
“You’re afraid of them?”
“No. I’m afraid I’ll eat them. Come. Restrain me if you must,” he announced dramatically, loudly. The Walmart employee at the fitting room door gave you a concerned look as Eddie grabbed your hand and dragged you away.
Both your endeavours were successful; Eddie found the necessary prop in the plush toy bin, and you raided the craft section. With a few other odds and ends in the basket, you were ready to head home, arriving at Forest Hills just before midnight.
Eddie carried the shopping inside, leaving you to unpack and get started on your project while he brewed tea for you. He had been practicing with flavour combinations and brewing times, constantly requesting feedback since he himself could not drink the tea without immediately throwing it back up. The best he could do was let it linger on his tongue and capture the taste in the few seconds before his dead mouth killed it.
“You should sleep soon,” he insisted, albeit softly.
You took the mug of tea he held out and smiled at him. “I will. I just want to organise this stuff,”
“Why are you making it? Could you not cast some sort of illusion spell? Or magically will all the pieces into the shapes you want?”
“I could. But where’s the Halloween spirit in that?”
Eddie nodded and began to go through his costume pieces. “Could you possibly spare a spell for a pair of my boots? They need to be brown, I believe,”
“Didn’t want to just buy some brown boots?”
His frown was bordering on pout. “I’d never wear them again.”
You laughed. Eddie had been developing his own sense of style. If style was beat-up combat boots and a ratty denim jacket he probably stole from someone in the city. Consistently though, he wore a lot of black.
“I’ll work on it,” you agreed with a nod.
An hour later, when you kept pausing mid-sentence to yawn, Eddie whisked you off to bed, tucking you in and wishing you sweet dreams.
“You going to sleep too?” you asked, meaning ‘do you need the bat spell?’
“No, my love. I’m hungry,”
“Walmart kids wet your appetite?”
He chuckled, always amused when you made dark jokes. He kissed your forehead and watched you fall asleep, then left Hawkins in search of violence.
…
The next day, Eddie waited for the last of the light to leave the porch before he stirred. He’d spent hours curled up in one of the many nests you’d built for him around the trailer. The nest on the porch was as soft as his fur and perfectly positioned so he could sleep in the sun all day.
When night fell, cool and calm, he flew inside and found you in the bath. You said the words with your eyes closed, letting a human-shaped Eddie settle on the tiles.
“You’ve been gone for hours,”
“I was just outside. These may be the last fine days we see this year,”
“My baby sunshine bat,” you cooed with a smile, waking yourself up to look at him.
You had woken that morning to Eddie curled around you, satiated and happy. He asked to be battified, then disappeared outside. You’d spent the day working on your costume.
Eddie rested his chin on the edge of the bath, shamelessly raking his eyes over your body. “I miss you when I’m not near you,” he said suddenly.
“I thought you were just outside,”
“I was. Even then. Even sleeping. It’s too far.”
You held a hand up for him to take. Tangled fingers. A warm pulse against cold skin.
“Maybe we should stitch our bodies together,” you whispered.
Eddie’s lips curled into a devilish grin. “I could just bite down and never let you go,”
“I could cut you up into itty bitty pieces and consume you entirely,”
“You’re starting something you cannot finish,” Eddie warned, his eyes growing dark. He untangled one of your fingers and held it between his teeth.
“I’d let you eat me whole.”
Eddie dropped your hand abruptly, pulled you from the lukewarm bathwater, and had you wrapped around him like a koala before you even registered movement.
“I will reach my hand into my throat and tear down until I find what is left of my unbeating heart. I will serve it to you and you will feast and we will become one.” His voice was earnest and emphatic.
Teeth clenched, you smashed your forehead to his and pulled hard on his hair. Maybe you said what you needed him to do out loud, maybe he read your mind. Either way, you were facedown on a mattress within a second, Eddie’s teeth and tongue scraping and licking up the backs of your legs.
“I…” he started.
“Want…”
Words separated by kisses.
“To…”
By bites.
“Eat…”
Like a recited spell.
“All…”
Well timed magic.
“The…”
He was at your hips.
“Love…”
Pushing beneath you.
“Out of you.”
…
Little witch…
Little witch…
His voice was in your head.
In your dreams.
Then, real.
“Little witch, my love? You wanted to check on your flower houses before the night is through,” Eddie said. He was right. That had been the plan. But the sun had set, he’d taken you to bed, and you’d lost hours with him. When did you fall asleep?
Slowly, you crawled from bed and checked the time. Midnight had only just left you. Heavy, sluggish movements. Weighed down by an unscheduled nap. You flopped back onto the bed.
“Do you need help?” Eddie asked as he came to stand in front of you.
Pouting, you nodded.
You watched him collect fresh clothes, ruminating over what he wanted to see you in. Eddie pulled you by the ankles to the edge of the bed, hooking underwear on and sliding them up. Still foggy with sleep, you felt like you were still rolling through a dreamscape. Eddie worked slowly. Sensually. With tenderness. It almost brought you to tears.
With your shoes laced up, there was no reason left to delay. You twinkled your fingers at Eddie, asking to be lifted off the bed. He acquiesced, leading you out of the bedroom and through the trailer.
On the car ride to the new coven, with your Moody Midnight mix tape playing loud, you watched Eddie out of the corner of your eye. He wound down the window and glided his hand through the fall wind.
As the flowerbeds came into view, Eddie’s mouth dropped open and an expression of pure delight lit up his face. He was out of the car before you cut the engine.
The seedlings had gone. In their places, beautiful buildings set apart from each other with enough space to grow gardens and vegetable patches, yet close enough to wave through windows.
Kelsey’s cottage was the first on the street, a warm welcome with shutters the shade of delphinium blue. It seemed small, unassuming, but you knew as soon as she moved in, she would charm it so it grew bigger and bigger on the inside, never changing on the outside. Eventually, as the coven embraced new members, Kelsey would take on housemates, her little cabin becoming the heart of the sisterhood.
Across from the cottage were Ash and Hailey’s cute tiny homes, their dahlia and peonies growing strong out front already. Down the way sat Ev’s Victorian style house. It was grand and gothic, and undoubtedly filled with secret nooks and spaces that Ev would hide all sorts of weird things in. Both Meg and Mel had dwellings on the far side of the field. Meg’s thatched roof a bright purple, and Mel’s garden already sprouting with plants she could feed her turtle.
“This is… It feels…” Eddie didn’t know what to say. Truthfully, he couldn’t believe this type of magic was allowed. It seemed too immense, too obvious.
“I know,” you told him. “We don’t always build like this. But I want them to feel at home, you know? I want this all to feel… right.”
Eddie nodded, finally stopping his awestruck pacing, and focussing on you. “They will love it,” he assured you. “I love it… It’s…” Still, not a single adjective would form. He looked over the buildings again. “Wait… There is not… You have not grown a home for yourself?”
“For us,” you corrected.
“For us… Please don’t tell me you intend on dragging that trailer across town?” Eddie joked. Half joked. There was clear apprehension in his tone. A little fear in his eyes.
You laughed. “No. I don’t intend on doing that… It’s just, you know, we haven’t talked about what kind of home we want.”
He couldn’t maintain eye contact, turned back to the houses, watching them as if they were going to continue to grow. They wouldn’t, of course. Not with an audience.
You let Eddie ponder while you walked the perimeter of the field. The land the coven would care for extended far beyond the little neighbourhood you’d grown from petals, but the air was already crackling with magic. Out in the forest over the hill, a family of red foxes were jumping and playing. Bats swooped through the sky and fireflies carved patterns through the dark.
Eddie sat on the doorstep of Ev’s Victorian. He listened to your heartbeat. How, when other living things came close to you, their breathing synced to yours. Leaves twisted in your direction like you were the sun. The center of everything. Definitely his.
You were almost out of his eyeline, crouched down scratching the belly of a fox cub, when you went still. For a moment Eddie thought you’d sensed or seen danger, but quickly you were up and turned to him. “You do want a home, right?”
In an instant, he was in front of you, the breadth of the field nothing to him. “Why would you ask that?”
“Because. Like I said. We’ve never talked about it.”
Eddie’s brows pulled together and his expression so sharp it could have been mistaken as anger, rather than the abject confusion it was. “Everything I have ever said has been about you. Loving you. Getting this far,”
“Yes. Yeah. But logistically… Vampires are nomadic. And all the time taken from you. You don’t want to see how the world has changed?”
The foxes had gone, unnerved by the thing that wasn’t human or witch. The breeze had settled, the trees providing a windbreak. Eddie saw through your line of questioning, tracing it back to the niggle of anxious thought settling in your brain. His face softened, then the beginning of his trademark smirk.
Eddie threw himself onto his knees at your feet, twisting his hands in the layers of your long, black skirt. “I am bound to you. Where you are, is where I am.”
You couldn’t help but grin. His dramatics wouldn’t distract you though. Dropping to your knees you looked at him seriously. He laughed.
“Eddie. You have been trapped in Hawkins for a hundred years. I’m not going to be the next witch to keep you here,”
“You want to know what I desire, in the deep, dark, catacombs of my soul?”
It was rhetorical, but you nodded.
“What do you picture me having done between 1586 and… well, you? 250 years of stillness? No, my love. I have seen the world. I know what is out there. It may have changed, but it will change again and again. I don’t want the world. I want you. I want to know you when you’re happy. I want to see you build this coven. Grow plants. Heal human ailment and cast witch magic…” Eddie tipped his head to the side a little, cocky as ever. “Logistically we should consider blackout blinds and room for books, not international travel.”
You wore that glazed-over look, drunk on the articulation of Eddie’s love. “You want a library?” you asked, voice coming out in a dumb whisper. Eddie nodded. “Me too. Maybe two… One for fiction and one for non-fiction,”
“Maybe three. Fiction. Non-fiction. Then, one for grimoires and other craft books.”
The foxes watched on from burrow doors. They still didn’t know what he was, but as long as he was with you, they’d leave him be.
End Note: Thank you to @jo-harrington for, well, the cannibalism.
There is a short playlist linked in this, little witch's Moody Midnight mix tape. I hope you like it.
There are a lot of people on the tag list that I have no idea if they read this story anymore. Feedback and love are deeply appreciated. xo Rhi
P.S. I hope you love your witchy homes @vintagehellfire @courtingchaos @pastel-pillows @ghost-proofbaby @kookygranger @toomanyacorns
Fic Taglist: @paranoidmunson @idkidknemore @paprikaquinn @stardustworlds @loz-brooke @wyverntatty @vintagehellfire @dark-academia-slut @scarletwitchwhore @becks1002 @mrsdollardog @heyndrix @luceneraium @rosaline-black @devilinthepalemoonlite @goldencherriess @iamwhisperingstars @wiltedwonderland @blueywrites @breezybeesposts @jadehowlettthewolf @spikesvamp79 @foreveranexpatsposts @tortoiseshellspells @wingedpeachjudgegiant @stardustmunson @live-love-be-unique @fangirling-4-ever @reanimated-alice @b-irock @gh0stlybunnie @myown-worstenemy-2003 @woozzz @cyberxlust @hiscrimsonangel @buckysbarne @m00nlight101 @word-wytch @spicysix @briasnow-blog @goth-cowgirl-03
All Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @sweetpeapod @thorfemmes @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @mel-the-fangirl @eddies-hid3out @siren-lungs @aheadfullofsteverogers @hiscrimsonangel @dashingdeb16 @cultish-corner
