#like I got a tool bag in high school

[allroseshave-their-pricks]

My roommates keep stealing my tools because they don't have any, so I'm curious

#random rose rambles #popular post #polls #tool box #tool set #adulting #it's just so weird to me #that my engineering roommates have ZERO tools between them #they keep stealing my stuff. which is fine #most of the stuff is for the good of the house. and i'm not using it 24/7 anyways #but one specifically was like 'why don't you have xyz? everyone should have that' #and I was like 'bro you don't have anything. what do you MEAN' #like I got a tool bag in high school #it's not the highest quality stuff but it all works

[breadbrobin]

friendship bracelets

leo valdez x reader — heroes of olympus

[gn!child of demeter reader]

summary: friendship bracelets are a love language in themselves. it’s a shame leo can’t wear the ones you make him.

warnings: little bit of swearing, possibly ooc leo, fluff, food and eating, leo forgets to eat sometimes.

word count: 1.2k

(so i wrote a leo fic too uhhhh. anyway. i love him and i have always loved him and i will always love him, so here’s a lil gift from me to you and uhhh yeah enjoy!)

——————————————

you’d given leo two bracelets. one was at the wilderness school. it was flimsy and made of red and yellow beads, held together by an elastic tie you’d smuggled into the school. the second was after your first quest. you’d managed to get some leather straps and made a braided leather bracelet for him.

he thought you’d made them for your other friends too, but he soon found out that he was the only one to get a matching leather bracelet with you.

“i don’t have enough for everyone,” was your excuse as you hid your rolls of leather threads and straps under your pillow. “i wish i could.”

that was good enough for him.

he soon realised, though, that he couldn’t wear them.

the risk of them burning was far too high, and after he nearly melted the beaded one when he got too excited one day, he decided to stop wearing them.

they held pride of place on his bedside table though. they were right beside his three-day-old water glass and the shrivelled pot plant you’d given him that you swore he’d be able to keep alive.

“it’s a cactus, leo! you can’t kill a cactus.”

he killed the cactus. or, at least, he mostly killed the cactus. you’d even named it jeremiah in the hopes that it would make him remember to water it, but he’d known a jeremiah once and hated his guts, so it hadn’t really helped much.

so leo valdez was a plant-killing, bracelet ignoring bastard. what was new?

oh, nothing. just the fact that he was madly in love with you.

maybe it was the bracelets, or your insistence that he would be able to keep a little cactus alive, or your uncontrollable laughter as he showed you the wilted plant, or maybe even the way you used your influence over plants to heal the little cactus and bring it back to life.

whatever it was, he was totally screwed. so screwed, in fact, that he took to staring at the two bracelets on his table every night before going to sleep, wishing he could wear them to see the look on your face.

leo worked hard. he always did. once he got into something, he didn’t stop until it was finished. sometimes, that meant ignoring his body’s need for food and water.

you marched into bunker 9 with a bag in hand. “leo valdez!”

he looked up from his workbench. “what did i do? whatever it was, it wasn’t me. i swear.”

“yeah, you didn’t do anything. like eat! i didn’t see you at breakfast or lunch!” you sat on his workbench beside him and placed the bag down in front of his busy hands. “it’s three o’clock now, so i bought you food.”

“i really have to—“

“eat? yes, you do.”

“no, but—“

“and drink water? that too. there’s a water bottle in there.”

“y/n—“

“leo, if you don’t eat your food i’ll break your hands so you can’t work anymore and then i’ll spoon feed you chicken soup every day until your hands are better.”

he looked up at you, offended. “i hate chicken soup.”

you smiled and leaned forward. “i know. so eat your fucking food.”

he raised his hands in defeat. “okay, fine.” he set his tools down and opened the bag with a teasing roll of his eyes. “if it pleases you so.”

“it does, indeed.”

as he ate, you walked around the bunker as you did every time, your hands behind your back like you were at an art gallery. to you, it was a gallery. bunker 9 was like the inside of leo’s mind: chaotic, messy, always moving and changing, and covered in memories of you. there were polaroid pictures that you’d given him pinned to a cork board. the whiteboard beside it read: ‘meet y/n for campfire’. there was even a note you’d scrawled to him in Ancient Greek a few weeks ago: ‘don’t forget to eat, dumbass.’ Apparently, he hadn’t listened to that one.

you walked back over just as he finished his food. he made to hand the back bag to you, but you stopped him. “you didn’t get everything.”

he frowned and opened the bag again, looking inside. “what are you— oh!”

he reached in and pulled out a leather bracelet. it was similar to the one you’d made him before, but tidier. you’d clearly gotten better at making them. “it’s beautiful, but, y/n, you know i can’t—“

“you can’t wear them because you’ll burn them. i know. put it on.” you smiled knowingly.

he put it on warily. it was nice, and his heart fluttered a little at the gesture, but he still couldn’t wear it out of fear.

“now burn it.”

his eyes widened and his eyebrows raised. “what?”

“burn it.”

“i’m not gonna—“

“do you trust me?”

“sometimes, like when you tell me to burn your hard work, i don’t, no.”

you stepped forward and tightened the bracelet on his wrist. “leo. burn it. or i will.”

he frowned up at you. “you’re very scary today.”

“thank you,” you smiled, stepping back. “just trust me.”

he sighed and shook his head, but lit his hand and lower arm on fire, watching forlornly as the bracelet melted to nothing—hold on. he extinguished the fire. the bracelet was still there. “how did you—?”

“talked to lou ellen. there’s a spell on that one. i had to get her to do it as i made it, but it won’t burn. it’s magic.” you smiled proudly, rocking back and forth on your heels.

he looked at you in shock and stood up. “you made a fire resistant bracelet for me?”

you shrugged. “of course, i did. and look!” you extended your wrist to him, showing a matching one. “i made a better one for me too!”

he looked from your wrist to your face with his signature impish grin. “thought you didn’t have enough to make anymore.”

you shrugged. “maybe i underestimated myself.”

“maybe you did.”

for a moment, you just smiled at each other, and he thought he could have kissed you right there and maybe (just maybe) from the look on your face you wouldn’t push him away, but then you slipped your hand into his and pulled him to another work bench. his hand was still warm, as always. “now, tell me what this is, because i have no idea.”

so, as he explained how one of his many projects worked and you hung onto his every word and held his hand tightly, he couldn’t help but feel a little warmer than usual.

and maybe, when you left that afternoon, leaving him to continue his work, pressing a kiss to his cheek like you always did, he could summon the courage to pull you back in for a kiss on your lips, like he’d always wanted. and maybe your friendship bracelets would turn into something more.

but, even if they didn’t, he knew he’d fall asleep that night without staring at his bedside table. he’d stare at his wrist instead. and he’d never take that bracelet off. ever. not even if the gods themselves required him to.

#leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x you #percy jackson #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #pjo x reader #hoo x reader

[mikobeautifulheart]

How JJK men react when they (or you) "accidently" fall on you (or them).

Including: Yuta, Yuji and Megumi

Tw: none unless you don't like falling over.

I KNOW THE TITTLE IS PAINFUL AND THE FIC IS NOT TOTALY EDITED. IM SORRY.

♡Yuta♡

All the second year students were at the traning field when you noticed that you forgot your phone.

Normally that wouldn't bother you, but today Yuta was supposed to come back from his training trip in Africa. There was nothing official with you guys but everyone around you could feel how much you both fell for each other. Just like the day he first arrived, you introduced yourself (probably the only person who did) to him. It was just like two wires fused and after that you guys became close. But it ened when Yuta left and you felt loke it was back to old times again with Maki, Panda and Toge.

"MAKIII" you yelled across the field as Maki was in the middle of her warm up lap.

"I NEED TO GO GET MY PHONE, ILL BE BACK SOON" You yelled getting a thumb up approval from her.

So you ran off the field and onto the path past the shed of cursed tools and straight to the main building in Jujustu high. You swung open the door and sprinted down the hallways.

Yuta was supposed to text you when he got back and nearly at the dormatrys because they changed the locks while he was gone and getting him his own key would take a while with his seemingly 'sudden' return. Luckily you had 2 keys made because you wanted a spare just in case it came handy.

You swung open the classroom door when you realised you forgot where you left your bag, which held your phone and pair of keys. You searched up the whole room panicking but to no avail. You looked at the clock on the wall. 4:00 pm. Yuta was supposed to be back at 4:10 and you figured the only other place your bag would be was on the bench bu the traning field...

Letting out a loud sigh of frustration you didn't want to waste any more time so you took a short cut to the oval. Right through the buildings window. You stood at the edge and pushed off landing harshly on the ground making you stumble a bit before sprinting again.

You made it to the field at 4:03, a new record, but still with your frantic searching you couldn't find your bag.

"I have to be quick before Yuta gets here or he'll be locked out the dorms!" You said franticly knowing your 3 classmates were watching you and wondering what you were doing.

You felt a tap on your sholder

"Tuna mayo Shakke."

(*We moved class rooms today remember?)

Your eyes went white realising you looked in the wrong room.

"I KNEW IT WAS IN OUR CLASS ROOM" You yelled before running again.

This time you went to the right room and saw your bag on your desk. You snatched it and looked at the time on your phone 4:11.

You said you would met Yuta at the schools enterance but there was no way you would make it there in time...unless you ran. Again.

You spun on you heals and with the last and most of your energy you ran head first into some body making them lose thier balance because the last thing they expected was getting rammed head first in a deserted hallway.

THUD

You fell onto your back in shock not realising the person hand was holding the back of your head making sure it never hit the ground.

"Are you alright!?" He asked looking down at you

It was Yuta.

"Yeah sorry about-YUTA?!" Your face flushed as his body caged your on the floor

"Sorry I didn't see you running then and just got in your way."

"NO, NO IT WAS MY FAULT" you were losing your sanity, he was so close and so...diffrent. His hair hung over his eyes and his body frame was way bigger from the last time you saw him.

He suddenly turned his head away from your gaze but you could see the red tint in his ears.

"Nice catch" you heard some one say

Both you and yuta looked down the hallway to see Maki standing there with a cursed weapon.

Immediately Yuta got up embarassed and offered you a hand up.

"Uh welcome back." You tried to act normally but that moment would live in your mind forever.

☆Yuji☆

You were in the library studying for Gojos "surprise quiz" that was taking place tomorrow. How were you going to get through all the subject set in the quiz with only one day's notice? Well you concluded that Gojo was not a very qualified teacher.

On the list of study books you'd need to read to take notes from there was one that was up impossibly high up on a shelf. But it was okay because there was a ladder at the end of the shelf you would just have to bring over.

You pulled the ladder over and made sure it was stable by shaking it a few times slightly, knowing there wouldn't be anyone to hold the ladder for you because Megumi, Nobora and Yuji were all currently out on a mission that you were no put on. It was a but disappointing but it was the perfect opportunity to study.

You got up on the ladder, when it came to the last step you got a bit nervous because the ladder began to shake a bit. But you took a deep breath and managed to make it up there without falling. You grabbed the book quickly got down the ladder. You put it on top of the other books you were using. You walked back to your table with all your study notes and materials.

It was a successful hour because you felt like you were finally ready. So you packed up your things and began to put the books back. Until it came to the high shelf. You tested the ladders durability again and finally took the first step. When tou were half way up, book tucked beneath your arm, you heard the library doors open and two people arguing. You already knew it was Nobora and Yuji. And if Nobora and Yuji were there then Megumi must be tagging along to. You kept climbing but a little faster so you could greet your friends back from their mission, however when you got to the top step you heard Nobora.

"JUST TELL HER YOU DAMNED IDIOT OR YOU'LL LOSE YOUR CHANCE!"

You looked down the ladder and saw the three (as predicted) walking toward the ladder when Nobora kicked Yujis back sending him forward right into the ladder you were on. With his instincts he grabbed a side of the ladder which only made him land on his back.

You let out a panicked gasp as you felt yourself lose your footing and fall off the ladder.

Nobora and Megumi watched in shock as the suddenly saw you fall off the ladder and crash...right into Yuji. Thank goodness for Yujis reflex skills because he managed to catch you. Catch being you landing the back of your head into his chest.

"YOU IDIOT" Nobora yelled

"YOU COULD HAVE KILLED MY PRECIOUS Y/N"

"ME KILL HER? YOUR THE WITCH THAT PUSHED ME!" He yelled in retaliation you slowly sat up in-between his legs.

"Are you okay?" Yuji sat up to crossing his legs almost trapping you between him.

"Yeah I'll be alright" you mumbled but before you could rub the back of your pounding head you felt yujis hand on it.

"I'm sorry, I'll be more careful next time, really I didn't mean to hurt you"

"I know, it's okay Yuji I know you wouldn't purposely hurt me."

A blush spreads across his face and your body warms against his.

You look around trying to avert his gaze before realising that you didn't have the book any more.

"Huh? where did my book go..." your eyes wander to Megumi who's rubbing the top of his head with one hand and holding your book with the other.

"Here" He mumbled in pain.

THANK YOU FOR READING THIS ♡♡

AUTHOURS NOTE: yeah I'm not entirely happy with the Yuta part but maybe I'll re write it if you guys want. Also if you want a part 2 with other characters let me know because I was going to add Megumi but didn't.

#yuta okkotsu #yuta x reader #jjk yuta #yuta fluff #yuji fluff #yuji × reader #yuji itadori #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #yuuta okkotsu x you #yuuta okkotsu x reader #jjk okkotsu #okkotsu yuta #okkotsu yuuta #yuji itadori x you #itadori yuuji #itadori x reader #itadori x you #yuji #jjk yuji

[hopelesslyromanticshark]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ My Grease-Covered Hero

content: leo valdez x daughter of posiedon! reader fic warnings: language and fast pace fr author's note: this is me core at its finest. this is me as a person. wouldn't be caught dead in sweatpants unless i am flying or dying. and i have nothing against people in sweatpants, in fact i am a bit jealous. but some people just never get over winning best dressed as a senior superlative (its me, i'm some people)

can i get a kiss? and can you make it last forever? i said I'm 'bout to go to war (uh-huh) and I don't know if i'ma see you again can I get a kiss? (can I?)

leo was woken up by his phone buzzing and ringing out the chorus of ‘see you again’ by tyler, the creator. only one person in his phone had a specialized ringtone, which is why his hands were blindly searching through his sheets to find the little metal box. finally, his fingers managed to grasp the phone and he pulled it up to his ear, yawning against the back of his hand as he slowly sat up in bed.

“hey, mamacita,” he spoke, clearing his throat to lose the morning voice even though he knew she loved it.

“leo, i’m sorry, i know you’ve got late mornings on thursdays but-” the girl heaved into the phone, getting cut off by stuttering breaths and the sniffling of her nose. leo was instantly awake, his brows furrowing at her state.

“y/n, you need to breathe, honey. it’s okay, no ones mad, just talk to me,” leo comforted, picturing tears rolling down her cheeks and her bloodshot eyes which felt like a knife to his heart. he often had to tell y/n that no one was upset with her, a normal assumption she had picked up from her mother and father, the temperamental sea god. he listened as y/n took a few deep breaths through the phone before trying again.

“my car is making a weird noise, i woke up late, the outfit i planned out last night looked so bad this morning that i’m in sweatpants. sweatpants, leo, sweatpants. i have like fifteen minutes to get to my class but i can’t stop crying in the parking lot and- and i hate sweatpants,” y/n moaned into the phone, a new wave of tears brimming her eyes. he could see her, curled up in the driver seat with the phone held in her shaky hands.

“okay, okay, i've got a plan. you go to class, i’ll come by at lunch, check out the car and bring you a change of clothes. how’s that sound, baby?” leo offered, knowing he had nothing going on today. he was enrolled in some fancy block schedule high school, which gave him thursdays off every week. which he was grateful for on a whole new level today, the sound of y/n’s relieved tears sounding like it was straight from the heavens.

“thank you, thank you, thank you,” y/n mused into the phone, over exaggerated kissing noises as well. leo laughed, shaking his curls out as he glanced out at the rising sun.

“yeah, yeah. i’ll text when i’m there, okay? enjoy your class, love you,” leo mused into the phone, smiling wider at her laughs.

“okay, hammer head, i’ll see you later. i love you more,” she laughed into the phone, promptly ending the call before leo had time to argue.

he rolled his eyes at her, shooting off a text claiming he loved her most before crawling out of bed. he got dressed quickly, grabbing his tool bag and keys as he left, informing his foster parents of his plans as he scampered out of the door. he pulled up outside of the jackson-blofis household, producing a key that sally had insisted leo take, sick of the climbing through the windows from both him and annabeth. he opened the door, walking in and being met by a surpirsed paul, who held a sandwich in one hand and a baby bottle in the other.

“…hey, leo,” paul prompted, nervously glancing about.

“oh, hey, sir, i’ve just come to get some clothes for y/n. she’s having a rough day,” leo explained, rocking on the balls of his feet. he’s met y/n’s biological father and been less nervous around him. and he's a god that could smite leo for sneezing wrong.

“that would explain the stomping around this morning. poor girl,” replied paul before waving leo off to y/n’s room as estella whined and made grabby hands towards the man.

leo waved to the little girl as he easily made this way through the apartment, swinging y/n’s door open. he walked in, shaking his head at the pile of clothes on her bed, surely from the morning. she usually kept her room painfully organized, which leo had a habit of messing up, not that she cared much. leo dug through the pile for a moment before pulling her pair of flare leggings out, remembering she told him once they went with everything. he grabbed one of her tops, a low neck dark red one that he loved. finally, he made the impromptu decision to grab her makeup bag, knowing she’d want to at least fix her mascara. he shoved it all into a tote bag and began to make his way out of the apartment.

“thanks, sir, i’m off,” leo called and paul called with similar wishes of safe travels.

leo, knowing he still had some time, made a sneaky stop for iced coffee for her before making his way to her college campus. she had texted him her lot and spot earlier. plus, it was a cobalt blue vw beetle, kinda hard to miss. he pulled up next to it, scrolling through his phone to pass the time until he heard her voice approaching.

“oh, don’t even worry about it, katie! i don’t even use my physical copy anymore, the online version is just easier for me,” y/n’s voice mused and leo couldn’t stop the smile that took over his lips as he leapt out of his truck, approaching her car with her tote bag and coffee in hand. she was, in fact, in a pair of sweatpants but leo still thought she was the most gorgeous girl he’d ever seen. and he’d seen the goddess of beauty (who took a striking resemblance to y/n when they’d met but he's sure that's unrelated.)

“there’s my sweet girl,” he spoke, y/n’s eyes instant darting from her classmate to leo, a large smile taking over her face.

“leo!! aww, you didn’t have to get me coffee,” the girl whined, though she quickly stole it from his hands and took a sip while leaning into his side. he rolled his eyes at her words with a smile.

“please, you love coffee more than you love me,” he huffed, winking jokingly over at her friend. leo briefly introduced himself and shook her hand, katie responding similarly but she was clearly shy.

“that could change if you can fix my car,” y/n sang jokingly, tossing him her car keys as she pulled the passenger door open, dropping her stuff off into the seat before reaching into the back and producing some book. leo had popped the hood already, looking around for problems and what not.

“here, katie. keep it for as long as you need. oh, and i already started highlighting before i got the online version, i think to chapter three,” stated y/n, setting the book into the girl’s hands. she looked up at y/n like she’d hung the stars in the sky.

“thank you, y/n, truely,” katie managed to get out, returning the bright smile y/n gave her.

“of course! if you wanna plan a study session for that book, just shoot me a text,” y/n replied, waving the girl off before turning to leo, who was deep inside her car's engine.

“hey, lee? you got my clothes?” she questioned, folding her arms on the car before resting her head against. leo glanced over at her with a smile, reaching into his tool belt for something which he managed to magically produce.

“yeah, i put it in your driver's seat. leggings and that red top,” leo huffed, pulling out a flashlight and somehow going even deeper into the car.

“the one you love?” she asked with a smirk and leo pretended not to hear her as his cheeks began to tint red. y/n laughed before walking away, to assumable change in his car, which had more space. a few minutes later, y/n came bounding up to him as he was no longer leaning into the car. she collided with his side, leo laughing as he wrapped his arm around her but kept his fingers away to avoid getting grease on her.

“better?” he asked and she nodded against his chest, causing the boy to press a kiss to her temple.

“good, because your tits look great,” leo joked with a wink, y/n laughing with a shake of her head.

“i’m not wearing a bra, leo,” she told him, glancing down to see what all the fuss was about.

“i think we should abolish bras then. let's start with yours, i'm your guy if you wanna burn 'em,” continued leo, getting more joy from hearing her little giggles.

“did you fix my car or not, repair boy?” y/n mocked, earning her a playful smack against her hip.

“you know i hate that nickname,” he huffed with a smile, knowing he only liked it out of her pretty lips but shaking his head at the girl, “and yes, i did fix it.”

“awww, my grease-covered hero,” y/n mused, taking his face into her hands, holding him a few inches away from her before pressing their lips together. leo leaned into her lips easily, enjoying the lip gloss that transferred to his lips and the way her hands felt against his cheeks. and even though he hated coffee, he thought it was becoming his new favorite as he could taste it on the girl’s lips.

“you got time to catch lunch?” leo asked as they pulled apart, opening his eyes to see the lovestruck look she was giving him.

“for you? always.”

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #pjo #heroes of olympus x reader #hoo #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez

[kieiswrite]

i've been writing a few short ficlets relating to the possession au - scar, cub and a bunch of other hermits hunting ghost and getting possessed. horror themes but lighthearted! this one is about Scar and Cub getting into ghost hunting business. the next parts centering on Cleo here and Ren here —

Introducing: Scar & Cub Apparition Removal Agency

“‘SCARA’?” Cub’s tone is completely neutral, but the corner of his mouth twitches. He’s not convinced.

“Yeah! Pretty clever, right?” Scar grins at him. “We could make a logo with a scary monster eating the ghosts.”

“I see your name is in there,” Cub says, “while mine is not.”

“It’s in there! You’re the C, Cub! It’s only a coincidence that it spells out my name.” Scar stretches his arms. The chair creaks. “A happy accident, though—a lucky one, even, some would say, since I will be the head of the operation!”

“I see.” Cub lets the bottle swing slowly back and forth, holding the neck between his thumb and middle finger. Then he takes a sip. He doesn’t particularly like beer, but it’s a rare occasion Scar buys him a drink—even if it’s in the shabbiest bar of the block—so he does his best to enjoy it. “Mmh. And what did you say my role in all of this was going to be?”

“Now, I’m glad you asked, Cub! I’m so very glad you asked me that question.” Scar is drinking water. He’s broke again. “I thought of this plan, and then I immediately thought of you! And do you know why, Cubby? Let me explain what we’re going to do, but first, you need to cast your mind back, all the way back to—high school. Do you remember that night we played with the ouija board in the cellar?”

Cub considers. “I think so.” He takes another, deeper sip. “Yeah, I remember.”

Somebody stumbles past their table, leans briefly on the back of Cub’s chair for balance. The place is filling up. The cover of chatter and loud music gives them some privacy, but Scar edges closer nonetheless. “You had me with that,” he whispers, theatrical, holding up a finger. “You had me for years. No, don’t give me that look, it was a good performance, Cub! I never knew you could act like that. I thought—I really thought you were possessed by the Janitor Jack. The thing you did with your eyes was so creepy, and then you changed your voice and made the—I still have nightmares about the growl. I have nightmares, Cub! Just thinking about it now gives me the heebie-jeebies.” He laughs. “It really was something.”

“Yeah.” Cub’s expression doesn’t change at all, but he squeezes the bottle with both hands. “It was something.”

“So here’s what I thought: I’ll get the clients. I’ll speak to them, persuade them… We go to where they say the ghost is, and you get possessed by it. Just like you were possessed by Janitor Jack!” Scar’s grin widens. “And then we just figure out what we want the ghost to say. I can—I can film it, if the client is not with us, and—look here, Cub. Look what I’ve got!”

Scar lifts up the tattered gym bag he’s been dragging along. He opens the zipper and presents the items to Cub one after another: A couple of white candles, a box of chalk, a crucifix (“This one cost me nothing, got it from the lady across the street!” he says, beaming. “She likes me!”) and even a pack of salt with a discount sticker slapped on the top. He has also bought a new flashlight that against the odds looks relatively sturdy. He asks if Cub can lend him batteries.

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Cub says, “but these look like the tools for the world’s cheapest and the most low effort exorcism. Think you have what it takes to kick out a ghost, Scar?”

“Of course! How hard could it be?” Scar makes a mock-ghostly sound and waves the crucifix in front of Cub’s face. “Begone, evil spirit! So—what do you say? Is app—apparel—ap-a-ah— help me out here, Cub!”

“Apparition.”

“Thank you! Is Apparition Removal Agency a go? Will you be my partner?” He drops the cross on the table and holds out a hand.

Cub thinks about it.

Him and Scar are old friends. Cub has been here before—being asked to take part in a questionable enterprise—and it has happened enough times that he can say with confidence: A good nine out of ten of Scar’s schemes are bound to fail.

Nine out of ten. As a business idea, this is ridiculous. Potentially dangerous too.

And it doesn’t matter. The grand success may ever be just around the next corner, but anything Scar has pulled him into he has never regretted, because the failures, as trivial or tragic as they may be, never fail to entertain. 

“Sure thing,” he says. He shakes Scar’s hand. “You can count me in.”

—

The room has a musty smell. Time has given the once-white crocheted bedspread a dirty yellow tint. The curtains are drawn but thin enough to let through light. There’s still a glass on the nightstand, and a picture of some young people, likely relatives, maybe children. The atmosphere in the place is, granted, a little gloomy, considering somebody died here a few days prior, but all in all there’s nothing making the room seem particularly haunted.

Surely ghost hunters would be able to sense if there is a phantasmal presence nearby, even if it’s their first job.

Even if the pay is barely enough to cover their lunches and the gas for Cub’s car. They’ll get experience! And the word of the mouth will have the more lucrative work rolling in in no time!  

“Let’s sit on the bed for this!” Scar is balancing his phone on the corner of the table, to capture the encounter with the ghost. “We will call for her, like, ‘Mary, Mary! Show yourself, Mary! Tell us what keeps you on this earthly plane!’ We’ll light the candles, and then—”

He turns around and cuts his sentence short. Cub has slumped on the bed, and his head hangs down. Dark hair over his eyes and he’s making a low, breathy noise—a snore?

“Cub!” Scar is  at once amused and affronted. “You can’t sleep on a mission!”

Cub’s shoulders jerk. Slowly, he raises his head.

His mouth hangs slack. His eyes are cloudy, hazy, white.

Scar draws in a sharp breath. “Wh—Cub! I didn’t know you already started—I mean, is this—is this Mary? Is Mary here?”

Cub’s voice is a mumble. He sways from side to side. “Who are you?”

Okay. Okay! Cub is veering from the script, but that’s alright! Scar is a quick thinker. Good at improvisation. “We are from SCARA,” he says. Cub’s demeanor is unsettling, but Scar can’t get distracted by his acting chops. He sits down on the side of the bed. “I’m Scar, and we’re here to help you pass on, Mary. Just—talk to us. Tell us everything.”

“Everything?” Cub wheezes. His eyes search for Scar’s face, but don’t fully focus. “What is happening? Why am I so cold?”

It goes pretty much like they rehearsed from there. The ghost doesn’t know she’s dead. She takes it relatively well. She wants little things—she asks if she won the lottery (the ticket is in the drawer. Cub must have checked it while Scar wasn’t looking). She didn’t. She wants to send a letter to her granddaughter, and Scar writes down what Cub tells him to. It’s very sweet, some life advice, some family secrets.

Then, as Scar puts the paper down, he sees there’s blood trickling down from Cub’s nose.

“Cub—Mary,” he says, pointing. “You’ve got a nosebleed.”

The ghost does not react. 

“Right there!” He leans closer. “There. Can you—right under your nose.” 

Cub’s mouth is hanging open again. Blood drips down his lips, his chin. His throat moves, his head jerks—and Scar yelps, startling back.

His poor heart! Scar clutches his chest, but nothing more sinister is happening than just Cub tossing his head in jerky motions from one side to the other. It looks bad but it’s just an act! Cub is trying to freak him out, but he’s not falling for it. The air in the room is thick and the weather must have changed outside, because it’s getting darker.

“Okay, I think we’re done here!” He declares, voice only slightly high pitched. He takes out the crucifix and holds it directly in front of Cub’s restless head. “You got what you wanted, Mary! You can let go now. Go—begone! You’re dead and you should move on, so let go of Cub, and—”

Cub slumps again. He topples a bit to the side—and falls to the floor.

A thud, and then everything is quiet for a long moment. And then Cub sits up, rubbing his head, and his eyes are normal, and he says, pointedly, “Ouch.”

Scar dares breathe again. He’s still gripping the crucifix ever so tightly. “What in the world, Cub? You didn’t have to go that far! You’ll end up getting a tension neck and that’s not a fun time, I can tell you that right now. I’m—wait, I’ll cut the recording off—oh. Oh no, Cub, no, this is not good, I was sitting in the wrong spot! It’s just—oh no. You can see nothing but my back most of the time, look at this!”

He shoves the phone to Cub, who—still on the floor—scrubs quickly through the video. He shakes his head. “Can’t believe this, man.” His tone is appropriately emphatic, near wounded. “Can’t believe this. It really is just your back. Geeze." A pause. "I must have knocked myself out, did you encounter the ghost all by yourself, Scar? What happened?”

He passes the phone back to Scar, touches his own lips and then looks at the blood on his fingertip, quizzical.

Scar is not quite sure how to answer that. He had been about to suggest that they do the bit again, because the recording really is that terrible and all Cub’s effort wasted, but— “You know,” he says, “I’m not sure. Did you really get possessed?”

Cub turns to look at him. He’s paler than usual. After a short pause he says, “Nah, man. That sounds unlikely.”

“So you were acting?”

Cub shrugs. "I've never acted in my life, Scar." He finally takes a tissue from his pocket and wipes his face. "Never acted. But I doubt it was possession. I repel ghosts. Fun fact, ghosts don't attack people with glasses. They get spooked by their own reflection."

Scar cocks his head. "I've never heard that."

"It’s facts. Look it up." Cub stands up. “What’s this?”

“Why, it’s the letter that the ghost wanted me to write! Pack it up, Cub, pack it up! We can give it to the family as proof. I’ll tell them how we banished the ghost and they’ll have to pay us.”

"Oh baby. Easy money."

“Yeah.” Scar gives one more long, thoughtful look to Cub, but he seems to be pretty much his normal self so everything is probably fine. “Yeah! For a first gig, this went great.” He pockets the phone, picks up the bag and his crutches. “Not perfect, I’m not saying we did perfect, but we learned a lot! And the next time—”

They exit the room. The curtains move, like a hand was pushing them to the side. It has to be the draft.

“—next time, you won’t be able to scare me, mister. I’m wise to your tricks now! But we did good. And! I already have the next customer lined up. I told you, Cub, we’ll make profit. I’ve got a feeling. This is going to go so well.”

#the possession au #cubfan135 #goodtimeswithscar #hermitcraft fanfic #kiescribbles #cw possession #cw drinking #also questionable business morals #only a bit of blood and very light drinking and everything is lighthearted but nonetheless

[dougtheintern]

things i think the teenagers have in their backpacks/how they’re organized

TAYLOR

-he shoves that shit in there. no regard for anything. homework? SHOVED. important papers? SHOVED.

-however, he does take time every weekend to neaten it up. because he wants to be all organized

-pastel highlighters, expensive lineart pens, crayola colored pencils, blending tools, graphite pencils

-a singular mechanical pencil he found on the ground a year ago and still has. the led has never ran out. how.

-snack bag, mainly japanese snacks

LINC

-papers are neatly tucked in, but not organized whatsoever. he spends 15 minutes finding a specific paper. everyone is PISSED.

-2 folders that hold almost nothing. one is marked ‘SCIENCE’ and the other has a drawing of hatsune miku, courtesy of Taylor

-2 sharpened #2 pencils, 1 mechanical pencil that has soccer decals.

-erasers because everyone steals his

-notes that were passed around by the teens. they always end at linc and he just tucks them into the hatsune miku folder

-a packet of crackers at the very bottom of his backpack. theyre crushed to the point of it just being crumbs

NORMAL

-he has a very specific organization system. binders, folders, etc. everything has a place, a name, and a reason. if something gets messed up, he knows it in his gut

-like, 3 notebooks. everyone asks him for paper and he very freely gives it.

-huuuge bag of pencils. all pre sharpened or full of lead. everyone always steals them. theyre really generic and he gets a whole package for 1 dollar because he wants people to like him

-small individually wrapped snacks— to hand out to the teens. (scary is lactose intolerant- he accommodates :3)

-sticky notes. so many sticky notes.

-literally everything thats on a ‘what you need for school’ list. and its still there. nothings disappeared. everything is very well kept.

-phone chargers for every type of phone. adaptors. extra earbuds.

SCARY

-yea her backpack is a fucking mess

-“scary, can you give me a piece of paper?” “ugh, fine.” (6 minutes of scary pulling various bizzare things out of her backpack) “i don’t have paper.”

-fountain pen cuz she thinks its sick as hell. she used to do her homework with it but the ink spilled all over her science homework and she cried

-safety pins, sewing supplies, etc. her clothes are super ratty so they always fall apart.

-makeup bag— it says ‘NORMAL PEOPLE SCARE ME’ but with the people scratched out and an S added, so it reals ‘NORMAL SCARES ME’ courtesy of the boys

-black tape because some teachers make her cover up the swear words on her shirt

-snacks that have various ages. some are from the beginning of the year

-hair supplies— even dye. she dyed a streak of norm’s hair in the D.A.D.D.I.E.S. bathroom HQ thing.

-Kellogg’s knife. wrapped in cloth. theres a small slip of paper that says ‘JERKS AGAINST JERKING OFF’ in a sort of.. logo style. taylor drew it and scary thinks its fucking hilarious

HERMIE

-hes queer and a theater kid he has a totebag that says ‘SORRY I CANT COME I HAVE REHEARSAL’ but the ‘ome’ in come is covered, replaced with ‘UM’.

-chapstick. so much chapstick. and lipgloss. and just a rlly small tube of mascara that hes had for 7 years

-everything is in a single folder that has the joker on the front

-keychains attached to the handles. its the joker, teeny the teen (after ep. 31 it turns to the chaparral high mascot.), and a cat. specifically a custom keychain of his own cat

-some sort of balm. he literally got burned in cheese . that stuff hurts sometimes and hes got some weird aloe vera shit going on

-jewelry. he likes being able to switch jewelry on the fly

-costume changes

-at least 1 leotard

-2 pairs of tights, womens character shoes, ballet shoes, tapshoes, jazz shoes.

#dungeons and daddies #dndads #dungeons and dads #dungeons and daddies s2 #dndads s2 #taylor swift dndads #lincoln li wilson #lincoln lee wilson #normal oak #normal oak swallows garcia #scary marlowe #hermie unworthy #herman unworthy #this is purely self indulgent #i just like thinking of mundane headcanons

[gattnk]

Terence and Scarlett, the youngest Deans in this Golden School's history. What kind of future do you think they'll bring?

I'm back on track my lovelies! Or rather, I never really left the AF train: I just needed some time to plan things out. I've sketched out the rest of the school staff, but I'll give priority to finishing chapter 5. Not gonna lie, I only finished these two first because I fell so in love with their designs I couldn't resist sharing them sooner!

Back in the early days of my production bible, I established the Golden School would offer other courses unrelated to guardian angels/devils; both the comic and S2 of the show inspired this concept. I came up with five faculties in total, with a pair of canon teachers at the helm of each. This is how Terence and Scarlett became my Academic Deans of the Tech and Support faculty.

Tech and Support is an engineering faculty: they're the mechanics behind mascots, vehicles like auto-spheres and motor-spikes, and pretty much every piece of angel/devil infrastructure on Earth. I chose Terence and Scarlett specifically because they're the least established teachers we see in canon. Simply put, they were the only teachers with enough wiggle room to fit the bill.

I took a long, hard look at what Terence and Scarlett were supposed to be in the series: the young, hip, hot new teachers in town when they first show up in the movie, the kind that make their younger students swoon and maybe stir some love trouble indirectly with their presence. I could definitely work with that!

Terence's original design looked like the kind of guy who brings an acoustic guitar to a college party, which is a very... 2000s kind of "hot". He needed an upgrade, stat. So I went on a quest and found that hunks are in vogue now, which is fine by me! And so a hunky engineer he became, with a high-visibility coverall, work boots, tool-bags and a helmet. He got to keep some stubble and his long hair (tied up in a ponytail for safety reasons) as a recall to his original design.

Scarlett's original design screams femme fatale, which is great for eye candy but not very practical when handling machinery. So I decided to gear her properly: strong-material overalls and shirt, work boots, welding gloves and safety goggles, protective horn cuffs, short hair and no jewelry (seriously, avoid wearing dangly bits like loose hair or jewelry when you're in a workshop). Properly geared women in STEM are, or so I'm told, pretty hot :v So mission accomplished!

While Terence and Scarlett's role in my rewrite is no longer to act as a romantic wedge between Raf and Sulfus, I ended up giving them shared traits with my Raf and Sulfus redesigns. It has a narrative purpose I won't disclose for now, but if you were wondering why they feel like grown-up genderbent versions of the protagonists, now you know.

Their new colors are pretty much a mash-up of their canon palette and my usual colors for angels and devils. I wanted to subvert expectations a bit however, so I gave Terence a red halo and wings and Scarlett blue horns and wings. They're the same hue as each other's eyes for entirely aesthetic reasons.

Honestly, it's been real fun so far to work on the teachers! I love working on side characters, there's more room to explore in terms of design because there's less expectations surrounding them. I'll do my best to finish the next chapter of I'll Fly With You as soon as possible so I can work on the rest of them, and maybe I'll get to finish more AFapril pages before April comes back around lol.

#my art tag #angel's friends #angels friends #IFWY #character redesign #terence #scarlett

[noellawrites]

It’s Always Been You - Yandere!Lip Gallagher x reader

a/n: my blog has finally been un-shadowbanned, so i’m back! :))

summary: Lip finally makes up his mind and realizes that ever since high school, it’s always been you.

warnings: physical assault, intimidation, yelling, passing out, reader is tied down, brief mentions of pregnancy

“Hey Lip, think you got time to fix my car again?” you called out as you entered the dark interior of Born Free Cycles.

He looked up from the bike he seemed to perpetually be working on and froze. You looked beautiful in short brown dress, keys hanging lazily off your finger. He hadn’t seen you in a week, which almost felt like too long. Back when Fiona was still at the house, you used to come over all the time. And now, you barely ever did. And even when you did make the occasional trip, it was always with a new boyfriend or fling or one night stand that Lip couldn’t stand to look at. He hated that he missed his chance with you.

“It started smoking on my way here. I’m worried it’s gonna be really expensive this time,” you sighed, gnawing on your bottom lip. Lip could remember you doing that even back in high school, for as long as he’d known you.

“I’ll take a look at it. What happened?”

You explained the latest problem as Lip listened intently, grabbing tools off his cart and heading over to your vehicle.

“I’m thinking it’s the fuel filter. On this model, a replacement’ll run you a hundred. I’ll throw in the labor for free if we do dinner tonight?” Lip said, glancing up at you nonchalantly.

To put it plainly, you were confused. You and Lip had been in a perpetual will-they-won’t-they situation since high school, and after graduation you decided to move on. You two had flirted since, but he never asked to make concrete plans before.

“Lip, is that really appropriate? I mean, aren’t you still seeing Tammy? What about Fred?”

Lip laughed, now leaning over your hood and fiddling with a random wire. “I’m not seeing Tammy. And Fred’s fine.”

You didn’t respond, instead opting to watch quietly as Lip worked his magic.

“Meet me at my new house at six. Fred and Tammy are at her parent’s place, so don’t worry ‘bout ‘em.”

—

You couldn’t believe yourself. Even after years of telling yourself you were done playing this stupid game, here you were. On Phillip Gallagher’s doorstep. With some homemade cookies in hand.

You knocked, Lip swung the door open and there you were. In Lip’s half-done home.

“Welcome in. D’you make those?” he asked, grabbing the plate from you and placing it in the kitchen next to the spaghetti and bottle of wine.

“Yeah, same recipe that you and your siblings used to love,” you admitted.

“Cool. I made us some—“

“Lip, will you please just tell me why I’m really here?” you blurted, almost feeling bad after seeing Lip’s taken-aback expression.

The two of you stood, waiting, silent for a good minute. Then, Lip spoke up.

“Jesus, I’m really fucking sorry I took so long but I really, really like you (y/n)!”

“‘Sorry you took so long’? It’s been nine. fucking. years! You literally have a child!”

“I know, okay. I know I’ve fucked around and I’ve hurt you, and I feel like shit for it. But there’s always been this stupid thing pulling us back together and I can’t make it stop.”

As much as you wish you could, you couldn’t help but agree. All the late-night studying, babysitting, crazy adventures and innocent flirting never quite left your system, even when you tried to drown it out with alcohol or fuck it away with other men.

“Lip, as much as I’d love to hop back on this train, I have a life now. I have a stable job with an apartment, and—“

“Yeah, and a boatload of shitty men to fill it with.”

“Will you stop acting like i’m some whore? At least I didn’t go and get myself knocked up right out of high school like every other bitch in this neighborhood!” you yelled.

“Oh, because you’re so much better than all of us south-side shit bags, huh?” Lip sneered, taking a step towards you and shoving you towards the wall with both hands tight on your shoulders.

You gasped, wide-eyed as Lip brought his face closer to yours.

“If you’re smart, you’ll accept my advances now and just fucking let me take care of you.”

Your back was now against the wall with nowhere for you to go. Both the window and door were too far for you to reach as you tried to strain your arm.

“Lip, please stop, you’re scaring me!”

“I can’t wait anymore, so either you agree to move in with me or I’ll force you to,” he growled, face mere inches away from yours.

“I’m not fucking moving in with you, Lip! You had your chance to go out with me and you squandered it! Now, you get to accept your fate,” you said, standing up to him.

“Accept my fate, huh? Nice try,” he laughed. Before you could even tell what he was doing, you felt his hand grab your neck and slam your head backwards on the wall. Everything went black.

—

You woke up and looked down at your body, now showered and clean along with wearing a pajama set you'd never seen. You attempted to pull your hands and legs close to your body, only hearing the rattle of chains in response. You were tied to the bed frame in Lip’s new house.

You accepted your fate, looking around at the blank gloomy walls. Lip was too passionate, too betrayed and lonely to ever let you get away again.

“I made some coffee, babe. Want some?” Lip called from the other room. When you didn’t respond, he entered the bedroom himself. He was wearing his Born Free jumpsuit again, with two cups of coffee in his hand.

He took one mug and lifted it to your lips. To your surprise, it wasn’t too hot or too cold. It was just the right temperature.

“I made a big breakfast for you. Granola with greek yogurt, scrambled eggs on toast. Just to boost your fertility.”

Your eyes went wide as he lifted the empty mug from your mouth.

“And you’re gonna need it. After the pills I crushed into your coffee, Fred'll have a playmate in no time,” Lip grinned as you pulled on your chains, crying out for him to let you go.

#lip gallagher x reader #yandere lip gallagher #shameless us x reader #yandere shameless us #lip gallagher imagine #shameless us imagine #dark lip gallagher

[ventiswampwater]

what have I done (to deserve this)

bo sinclair x afab!reader

rating: explicit

word count: 4k

Bo POV. It’s the day before Valentine’s. Bo goes shopping at a bargain outlet. In true romcom fashion, you’re there too. 

Chance encounter meet-cute. Except it’s with the worst man this side of Baton Rouge. Sucks! But you get to make out with him! Hope that’s worth the incoming pain and misery, bestie!

Crossposted on AO3 here. 

Very self-indulgent and GOOFY. A heaping dose of humor and general dumbassery. Big warning for Bo being Bo. We’re in his head and he is, as always, so stupid. Reader does not have a car for porn reasons. That’s it. She’s a public transportation whore for roadhead purposes. She’s also kind of annoying. And a bratty bimbo. 

The title of this fic comes from the song “What Have I Done to Deserve This” by Pet Shop Boys. It’s just a jazzy lil 80′s track that I could 100% picture playing in a bargain outlet over shitty speakers. Bo’s on his Gen X shit.

I just wanted to write about Bo encountering a chick who immediately wanted to hoover him down. Ambiguous ending with some unsettling implications.

This fic is a birthday gift for @raccoonspooky​! 🦝💝👻 MWAH!!! I LUV U!!! HAPPY BDAY!!!! HAPPY BIRF!!! DAY!!!! HERE’S STUPID!!!! 4 U!!!

The bargain outlet stretches out in front of him, large yellow signs hanging from the warehouse ceiling. Sales down every aisle, 25% off on all kitchenware. Music blares out of loudspeakers, spitting out a song that Bo hasn’t heard since high school.

He’s thinking of his mother again.

Packed into the family car, bumping down the road to the department store. Just the two of them. Mama would tell him that it was because he couldn’t be left alone, that he wasn’t trusted like Vincent was—up at the big old house, drawing his pictures and staying out of the way.

Time seemed to drag on days like that, plodding along ungainly as Trudy slowly perused shelves. It always felt like he would be stuck there indefinitely, rotting away in front of the floral baking sets and printed potholders. When people congregated around the racks, Bo would reach up and grab her hand. Surrounded with onlookers, she’d let him hold onto it.

Sometimes they’d pass by the toy aisles, but she never gave them more than a passing glance. These trips weren’t for him, after all. Despite that, he looked forward to them with an odd giddiness.

Bo couldn’t be alone, but Vincent couldn’t get this.

Vincent didn’t get to watch himself reflected in the shining glass of the displays that their mother stopped at, tutting over bottles of perfume. He didn’t get to see the chrome and glossy mirrors, the array of beautiful women with long nails behind the counter tops. It wasn’t for him.

Bo would return home smug, carrying Mama’s bags. He always made sure to catch his brother’s eye.

Look. Pay attention. This is mine, it’s all mine. It isn’t yours.

He got in trouble one day. He couldn’t remember for what. Whatever it was, she got angry, and the trips stopped.

That department store had long since been razed. There weren’t a lot of things that stayed the same. Tradition was lost and paved over, turned into this.

Picking up a basket, he makes his way to the back of the store.

The hardware section is pitiful. It always is.

Tools are strewn everywhere, each one emblazoned with illegible clearance stickers. They never have the shit that he needs here. He sifts through the pile of haphazardly stacked tools, pulling a wrench out. It’s a twelve-inch, decent weight. He wraps his hand around it and knocks it against his palm. It’ll do.

On his way out of the aisle, he snatches up two rolls of duct tape and a pack of braided nylon rope.

There are some things you can never have too much of.

He cuts through the clothing department.

A store display looms overhead, announcing another sale. A woman pouts out of the ad, the heaving curve of her breasts spilling out of black lace. He feels something under his foot. Bending down, he plucks a bra off the ground. There’s a boot print across the front, dirt smeared across the polka dots.

“Good afternoon, shoppers!” A voice crackles over the intercom. “Two-for-one deals comin’ in hot this holiday season—”

Trudy would hate this place, with its messily stacked piles of clothes and the incessant beeping of the registers. That’s part of the reason he’s here.

“Um. Excuse me.”

“Huh?” He blinks, jerking his head up.

“Sorry, I just…” You look at him quizzically, your lips pursed. You’re holding a bra that looks identical to the one in his hands, sans dirt. “Need to get…uh. Behind you.”

“Yeah, of course.” He shuffles to the side. “Go on.”

He flicks through the rack, shoving the ruined bra unceremoniously to the back.

“You buying a bra?”

“Yeah.” He says absently. “For my sister.”

“…You’re buying your sister a bra?”

He turns to look at you. Wrenched away from the padded curve of the bras, he finally has a chance to assess you. Cute.

“Sister-in-law.” He amends.

Your brow scrunches in confusion and you nod slowly, fidgeting with the bra in your hands.

“I’m just messin’ with you.” He smiles.

“Okay.” You huff out a perplexed laugh.

He’s rummaging through the detergent when he sees you again.

“We just keep running into each other.” You remark.

“Seems like it.” Gesturing at the duct tape and utility gloves in his basket, he flashes you a smile. “Gotta get some stuff for work.”  

“You a plumber?”

“Uh, no.” He’s unable to hide the flicker of indignation that twitches his lip up into a sneer. “Mechanic.”

Your lips curves into an open-mouthed O and he glances down at your left hand. Finding your ring finger conspicuously bare, he files that away for later. It’s not like he gives a shit, but less collateral is less collateral.

“I run a station not far from here.”

“That’s cool.” You pick up a lint roller. “Well, nice to meet you.”

Bo finds you in the Valentine’s aisle. Or you find him. He can’t really tell.

“Are you followin’ me ‘round here, girl?” He shoots you a bemused smile. “You gonna tell me your name, stalkin’ me like this?”

“Maybe. What’s yours?”

“Bo.”

“You buying that for your sister-in-law too?” You nod towards the box of conversation hearts he’s holding. “Can’t imagine your brother likes that much.”

“Now, that’s where you’re wrong. We share everythin’.”

“Oh yeah?” You grab a box of chocolates off the shelf, placing it in your cart. “Seems messy.”

“She’s a lucky girl.”

“That depends.” You quip. “What’s your brother look like?”

He angles toward you, resting his hand on the shelf.

“We’re twins.”

Your eyebrows raise.

Couple months ago, he had one downstairs that kind of looked like you. Same hair color. He has a lock of it in one of the gas station drawers. Her ID’s in there too, but he doesn’t remember her name. He couldn’t place it at first, but that’s who you remind him of. Another version of you, maybe. You’ve got the prettier mouth, though.

“Surprised this one didn’t sell.” You pluck a card off the wire rack. A goose peers off of the paper, surrounded by hot pink lettering.

VALENTINE, WON’T YOU LET ME GET A GANDER…

You flip the card open. With a sigh, you hold it up so he can read it.

…AT THEM HONKERS.

“That’s a good one.” He nods appreciatively.

The food court is tucked into the corner of the store, a collection of neon signs and scuffed tables. The whole area smells gray, strings of cheap cheese and the lemony reek of industrial cleaner.

As he appraises the menu, he notices you at the drink fountain. When you turn, your eyes go wide.

“This isn’t what it looks like.” You exclaim.

“Huh.” He sighs. “Darlin’, you keep this up and I’ll have to call the cops.”

You open your mouth once, close it.

“You hungry?” He gestures toward the menu.

“You’re not from ‘round here, are ya’?”

“I’m just passing through.”

“Hmm.” He murmurs out his acknowledgment. “You should stick ‘round for a bit. Nothin’ like Mardi Gras in Baton Rouge. Family vacation?”

“No, it’s just me.”

He hides his laugh around a forced cough. Pinching at the bridge of his nose, he clears his throat.

“Sorry. Cigarettes.” He smiles at you. “I’m thinkin’ ‘bout quittin’.”

You chew idly at your slice of pizza, your eyes drifting over his face. He arches a brow.

“You like what ya’ see?”

“I’m not sure.” Your lips twist into a smile. “I’m still trying to figure that out.”

You have a lot of damn nerve.

“You do this a lot?” He fixes you with a pointed look.

“What? Go shopping?” There’s something so hopelessly dumb about your expression. You’re blank and brainless, an assortment of curves and painted-on prettiness in front of him.

He imagines paddles whacking the careening Ping Pong ball of your thoughts across your brain. A thought misses the paddle, ricocheting off the side of the board. Game over. Fiddle with some buttons, start over. Another one comes to take its place, bopping uselessly in your skull.

He’s met enough of your type that it shouldn’t surprise him, but somehow it always does. Someone this stupid shouldn’t be allowed to wander too far. And yet, here you are, all by yourself. Just you and your flimsy hold on rational thinking, wandering around his state.

If he hadn’t have met you here, lord knows what trouble you would’ve gotten into. You’d probably have wandered out into the bayou. Blinking all pretty, getting stuck in the muck. Wrenching open a gator’s mouth and stepping into it just because you were curious how many teeth it had.

He’d pay good money to watch that.

“Don’tchu act all shy ‘bout this. You know what I’m askin’.” He tears the straw wrapper into tiny pieces, his gaze trailing down your neck and onto your breasts. “Ya’ make a habit of goin’ ‘round and propositionin’ men in stores?”

You choke out a laugh, your eyes going wide.

“I’m not propositioning you!”

“Whatchu doin’ eatin’ my pizza, then?”

“What am I…doing…” Your eyes twinkle with barely contained glee. You muffle a laugh around another bite of pizza. “…Eating…your pizza?”

“Yeah.” He leans back in the chair. “Ya’ seem pretty happy to be sittin’ right there. Eatin’ my pizza.”

“You’re very cute.” You wipe your mouth off with a napkin, staring pointedly at his hands.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Grabbing a slice of pizza, he takes a bite.

It’s awful. Grimacing, he manages to swallow it down. Glancing down at it in disgust, he lets it fall limply back into the box. It takes him a moment before he remembers to readjust his face into one of tranquility, winking over at you.

“You know what.” You deliberate for a second, your eyes darting to his lips. “I think I am propositioning you.”

“There’s a theater next to my shop.” He smirks. “You wanna catch a movie?”

“I don’t wanna interrupt your work.”

“I got all the time in the world, honey.” He winks. “Truck’s outside.”

“You’re not gonna kill me, are you?” You rest your chin against your palm.

“Not yet.” He shakes his head. “Hardly know ya’ yet. That’d be jumpin’ the gun.”

“Alright. Fuck it.” You grin. “Let’s go.”

Standing in line at the register, he reaches into your cart and snatches out the box of chocolates.

“Hey!” You put your hands on your hips. “What are you…”

“Ya’ think I’m gonna make a girl buy her own chocolate? What I look like to you?”

You move to say something, your eyes glittering.

“If ya’ say plumber—” He gives you with a sharp look, narrowing his eyes. “I’ll tan your hide.”

“Is that a promise or a threat?” You stage-whisper, loading up the belt with items.

“Goddamnit, girl. Let’s get you outta this fuckin’ store.”

Pulling down a side road, he parks the truck.

“Hand me that, would ya’, baby?”

Rustling in the bag, he pulls out the box of chocolates. Ripping the plastic off, he tugs the lid open. He takes a bite of one. Cheap, shitty chocolate. Puts it back in its slot. Picks up another one and takes another bite. Caramel, but it’s still—

“You wanna give me my chocolate back?” You tap on his arm.

“Sorry, darlin’. I bought it. It’s mine.” He smirks at you. “Maybe if ya’ ask all pretty, I’ll give ya’ one.”

Your mouth falls open in shock and you let out a frustrated huff.

“That’s not fair!” You exclaim. “You lied.”

“Lyin’? Nah. Just omittin’ some details, sugar. It’s how we do it down here in Louisi—”

You clamor into his lap, making a grab at the chocolate. Popping one in your mouth, you bug your eyes out at him.

“Bad girl.” He tosses the box onto the dashboard. Reaching up, he grabs your chin, pulling you closer.

You taste like chocolate when he kisses you, his hand slipping down your jaw to tighten around your neck. You hum happily into his mouth, your hands on his shoulders. He can feel your breath under his fingers, the pulsing hammer of your heartbeat against his palm.

You’re always so close to death, to all that red and heat underneath, and you don’t even notice. He could press down a little more, constrict your airflow. Make it hurt. You need that, don’t you? You don’t have any fuckin’ structure. Leave you with your throat burning, your eyes swollen with tears. Make you thank him for that.

“I don’t really do this.” You murmur against his lips.

“Whatchu doin’ right now, then?”

You laugh, a breathless little noise. He reaches back and gathers your hair together at the back of your head. When he tugs your head back, you gasp.

“How bad ya’ want it?”

“I—” Discomfort flashes over your face. “Wait, um. Hold on. This is really awkward, but—”

You readjust yourself in his lap and he drops his hand, watching as you reach under your shirt. Biting down on your bottom lip, the strap of your bra slips down your shoulder. Working it through the sleeves of your shirt, you blow out a huff of relief. Stretching your arms to extricate the loops, you tug it free, tossing it onto the floor of his truck.

You turn back to him with a bashful smile.

“Movin’ fast, girl.” 

"The wire's been digging into me all day.” You shake your head, glancing over your shoulder at your discarded bra. “I needed to get a new one, but—I got kinda distracted."

"And whose fault is that?"

You look at him curiously, as if his question is strange. You lean forward and flick at the brim of his cap, smiling.

"Well, yours, technically."

“Don’t see how that tracks.” He leans back onto the headrest. 

“You distracted me.” Your voice goes high-pitched and melodic, a sing-song lilt that makes his hand tighten into a fist at his side. 

He exhales, snorting out a laugh. 

“You know what?” 

“What?” You tilt your head, raising your brows.

“I changed my mind. I’m killin’ ya’.”

You blow a raspberry at him, rolling your eyes. 

“Not yet, c’mon.” You whine, dropping kisses down the bridge of his nose. “It’s like you said. We haven’t even gotten to know each other yet!”

“You’re tryin’ my fuckin’ patience, girl.” 

“Good.”

You’re a bratty fuckin’ thing. Untrained, not an ounce of discipline in you. You rock your hips against him, wetting your bottom lip. Tart and wild, a stubbornness coasting under your skin.  He wonders how long you’ll be able to hold onto all that sass. What he’ll have to do to make sure you lose it. He can’t wait to see you cry—you’ll taste sweeter then, curled up inside yourself.

What kind of fuckin’ coincidence. 

“Look at’chu.” He shakes his head in disbelief.

“What’d you say? Take a picture, it’ll last longer?”

“Oh, don’tchu worry, baby. I will.” He grins. “Gotta get you all warmed up first, though.” 

Slipping his hand between your legs, he rubs at you through your jeans.

“You’re not fucking me in your truck.” With a giggle, you still his hand, tugging it back onto your hip.

“You gonna try to stop me?”

“Um, yeah.” A shriek of laughter spills out of your mouth and the movement rocks your body against his lap. “Anybody could see us!”

“Ya’ gonna tell me that’s what you’re worried about?” He squints at you, squashing down the glare that threatens to darken his features. Not yet. “After grindin’ on my lap like that?”

“Look, I’ve got a better idea.” Shimmying off his lap and onto the passenger seat, you grin at him. “When’s the movie?”

“The movie?” It takes a moment before the realization hits him. Scrubbing a hand over his mouth, he clears his throat. “Oh, uh—an hour.”

“And how far away is it?”

“Uh, twenty, thirty minutes.”

“Well. I don’t wanna miss it.” You tilt your head, raising a brow. “What if there’s a line?”

“There ain’t gonna be a line.” He says definitively, a wave of exhaustion settling over him. 

“You don’t know that.” You laugh. “Anyway. I think…you should drive us there. Now. So we have time.”

He’s barely started the truck back up when he feels your hands at his belt, undoing the loop.

“The fuck you doin’?”

“Trust me.” You unzip his fly, pulling him out of his boxers.

You could be sweet if you wanted. All sugar. It’s easier that way, but you won’t want it easy. You’ll make him fight you for it.

You work your hand over his cock with a sigh of contentment. Your thumb teases over the slit, rubbing precum over the head of his cock. He feels a spike of irritation at you for wasting even an ounce of his spunk on your hands. As if to apologize, you bow your head, running your tongue up the underside of his cock. You’ll have to do better than that. Licking up the sensitive skin of his frenulum, you tease your mouth around him, letting him twitch against your tongue.

“Ya’ gonna suck it or not?” He snaps, keeping his eyes locked on the road. He doesn’t need to look down to know that you’re smiling.

“Don’t be grumpy.” Your voice floats up from his lap. “I’m just taking my time. You’re just so pretty.”

Pretty? Anger rushes through him. Calling him that—thinking you can, thinking that there wouldn’t be any consequences. Who raised you? For all your pathetic staring, you haven’t even seen what’s in front of you. 

The lack of respect is sickening, making his balls feel heavy and tight. He needs to be down your throat, if only to shut you up. Give you something else to focus on. Every moment you’re near him, you’re signing yourself away. Doubling back, going over the contract in bubbly cursive.

You’re entirely unaware of how many marks you’re tallying up. Every swirl of your tongue sinks you deeper in debt. He wonders if you’d laugh if you knew just how many apologies you’re setting yourself up for.

With a hum, you take him into your mouth, swallowing your lips around his cock.

“Take it deep. Don’t you stop.”

A noise erupts from your mouth, but it’s garbled around his cock. He can’t tell, but he could have sworn that was a laugh.

He stops the truck abruptly, the movement thrusting him deeper into your mouth. You gag around him, a disgustingly wet noise at the back of your throat. With a wet pop, you pull your mouth off of his cock. The sudden loss of sensation draws a frustrated growl from his lips.

“Be careful.” Your lips are back on him. Mouthing kisses down his length, your nose bumps against his skin. “Don’t crash the car.”

“I’ve been drivin’ this truck for longer than—” You wrap your lips around the head of his cock and the sentence falters in his mouth.

He pictures you standing in the theater lobby. Confusion in your eyes, a slackness to your jaw. It’s odd and you’ll know it, right away. But you won’t do anything about it. You’ll second guess yourself. You think you’re so smart, don’t you? With that sweet little twist of your lips, batting your eyelashes at him, resting your hands on his shoulders. He wonders how long it’ll take for the confusion to lift. The realization settling over you, chilling you to the core.

You’ll look back at him and you’ll know.

A lifetime of mistakes all falling into place, your scream lost under the palm of his hand.

You should be fucked there. That’s how it should go.

He can’t wait. Not for anything, ever. Mama was always saying that. And with the wet clasp of your mouth around his cock, patience isn’t manageable. How could it be? You’ve taken up all of it, trapped it in your smile. He doesn’t have any more to give.

You bob your head up and down, resting your hands on his thigh. 

“Good girl.” He mutters. You moan and he clenches his jaw, tightening his hold in your hair. “Just like that, c’mon.”

You raise your head off his cock again and murmur out his name, and his grip on the steering wheel turns his knuckles white.

You better be enjoying saying it. Let it live in that slutty mouth of yours for a while. It’ll be off limits soon.

There’ll be other things to call him. Later. He can see several of them in his head, stacked fifty feet high in neon. He probably won’t even have to tell you which one he wants, you’ll come up with it on your own. It’ll bubble up in your little head and you’ll drool it out helplessly, stuffed full with cock. Makeup smeared down your cheeks, caked under your eyes. He’d like to see you when you’re trying to fold into yourself. When you’re trying desperately to be anything but pretty for him.

He’s ready to take the shiny veneer of this personality off. It’s slipping now, he can feel it. 

“Ain’tchu glad you met me?” He grunts out, his breaths coming out shallow.

You’re going to hate him soon enough, and he’ll be able to remind you that you didn’t before. That you can’t fool him into believing you don’t love his cock down your throat, that you don’t want his hands on you—he knows better, and you do too.

You moan your agreement against his cock. Glad, you’re fuckin’ glad. You’d better be.

He bucks up into your mouth when he cums, smacking his hand down on the steering wheel. You’re choking around him, making desperate little huffs through your nose. For your credit, you keep him in your mouth, tightening your lips around the base. He eases his foot off the accelerator, wetting his lips. 

The truck slows to a crawl as he pants, leaning into the steering wheel. He shudders when he feels your lips tug off his cock, swirling your tongue around the oversensitive head.

“We there yet?” You cough a bit, carefully tucking him back into his boxers.

“Christ, girl.” He whistles through his teeth, glancing over at you. “Actin’ like I didn’t just fuck ya’ throat.”

“You didn’t fuck me. I fucked you. And no one saw.” Wiping your mouth off with the back of your hand, you giggle.

“Little cocksucker.”

“You loved it.” You chirp smugly, winking at him. It takes everything in his resolve not to grab you by your hair and slam your forehead into the dashboard. He can’t get blood in his truck again. Shit’s unprofessional. And he’s nothing if not a stickler for appearances. There’s a way to do these things, and you’ve forced him to rewrite his script halfway through the scene. He’s almost impressed with your lack of morals.

He can only imagine how wet you must be, soaking through your jeans. With the way you were moaning around his cock, your pussy must be aching for it.

He should lay a fuckin’ towel down. Protect the goddamn seats—he can’t get your blood on the upholstery, and you know that. 

Tryin’ to leave your mark some other way, ain’tcha?

“Is this it?” You ask brightly, peering out the window.

“Yup.” He parks, turning to you. “Think you can do me a favor?”

“What?”

“Just gotta check on somethin’ with the truck. You wanna run into the shop and put this on the counter?” He grabs the chocolate box off the dashboard and stuffs it into the plastic bag. “Wouldn’t want it meltin’.”

“Sure.”

You hop out of the truck, looking at him expectantly.

“Go on, pretty thing. I’ll be right behind ya’.” 

As you push the door of his shop open, he stuffs your bra in the glove compartment. It’s cute. You won’t be needing it.

#big STUPID!!! big!!! fuckin!!! STUPID!!! #bimbo to bimbo communication in this fic rlly and truly #house of wax #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #slashers x reader #slasher fandom #x reader #my fics

[jo-harrington]

As Above, So Below - Chapter 2: Descendió a los Infiernos

Previous Chapter: Chapter 1 - Illumination

Summary: You arrive in Hawkins looking to offer assistance and come across some familiar faces; however, you're quick to realize that danger no longer lies dormant in the place you once called home.

Word Count: 13.7k

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

Warnings/Themes: Van Helsing Inspired, Religious Themes, Criticism of Religion/Catholicism, Fate vs. Free Will, Death and Injury, Mentions of Major Character Deaths, Grief, Mourning, Discussion of the Upside Down, Supernatural Encounters, Angst, Violence, Action Sequences, Gore, Biblical and Other Literary/Media References

Note: I was gonna use this note to wax poetic about the Misa Criolla and I VERY MUCH WILL in its own post found here. But I need to take this opportunity to thank @chestylarouxx and @pastel-pillows for helping me clear some cobwebs when it came to the...well the literal webs I've woven with this chapter. Even me with my Pepe Silvia style board can get a little caught up in the details and need to talk it out or get another perspective to make sure things make sense. I appreciate you immensely.

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

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

“The path to paradise begins in Hell.” - Dante Alighieri

October 9, 1987

It had taken much longer to reach the center of town than you had anticipated.

Like the earthquake relief efforts in Los Angeles, and what you recalled of the news segment from Hawkins' first earthquake the year prior, you knew your best attempt at offering assistance would need to be done at some community gathering spot. Since Hawkins was a small town that meant the town hall, the church, or the high school.

You knew the lay of the land in Hawkins—even now, 3 years after you had packed up and left—so you were confident about getting there. Actually making it to your destination was another story.

The roads cracked and buckled erratically; there were abandoned vehicles intermittently along the curb with large dents, shattered glass, and blown out tires.

"Looks like something out of Mad Max," Mary Victoria commented as you passed by one that had actually been turned on its side. “I don't think an earthquake could do that."

You realized as you got further into Hawkins that the fog that had suddenly popped up as you approached the city limits wasn't fog at all; it was smoke. It emanated from the fissures in the ground, slow and sluggish as it permeated and mixed with the air, and left a haze that blanketed everything and blotted out the rising sun.

"That's because it didn't," you muttered. "If, uh, if you still have a rosary on you, I think now would be the time to start praying Mare."

It was still early but people were already out and about, walking to some unknown destination. Smart, given how much you struggled to navigate your car between the uneven pavement and your cracked windshield. Some had hand carts and wagons with supplies, others had garbage bags and cleaning supplies. The handful with pitchforks and rakes and other makeshift weapons...they were the most alarming to see.

No matter what tools or tasks they had though, their eyes followed your car with distrust as you rolled by them.

At a certain point you reached a thick fissure that split the main road into town in two. The concrete burst, leaving a fluted edge that you knew your car wouldn't be able to make it over. So, oncoming traffic be damned, you followed along it on the wrong side of the road.

It didn’t help matters that the fissure pulsed ominously and you could sense it as you drove.

The further you went, the worse conditions got, and quickly the Hawkins of your memory—a cherished, happy place—was replaced with something sinister and desolate. And where Los Angeles had been filled with community, camaraderie, and hope in the recovery, you could only feel a weariness in your surroundings that was reminiscent of the aftermath of a great battle.

Especially when you reached the Town Center.

The marquee of the Hawk had fallen, city hall destroyed, the library was a strange half-collapsed shell, and Melvald's and a half dozen other shops along Main Street were simply scorched piles of rubble, including the shop you used to live above.

Even if the street was safe to traverse, downed traffic lights prevented you from driving any further, so you stopped the car and you and Mary Victoria continued onwards by foot.

"I know you said it wasn't an earthquake but this must be the epicenter," Mary Victoria observed as she shrugged her jacket on and took her first few steps. You shouldered your bag and caught up to her.

"Hey," you grabbed her arm and stopped her in her tracks. "Lesson 1. Take a minute. Even people who haven't unlocked any abilities can sense it sometimes. Focus."

There was a beat and she shivered.

She could feel it. Good.

"It's like a cold draft when you walk through a house where someone died. Or when you step into a graveyard, and you can feel there's something different there."

"Consecrated ground?" she asked.

It was a start.

You, though...you knew what it was. Could feel it penetrate your body and mind and shake you to your core. Whatever this town had seen—the very earth itself—had left a scar. Once. Twice. Many times. And it could tell you more than any recount that a living being could.

You could hear the echo of screams and cries and roars like a ringing in your ear, a jarring tinnitus with no remedy. Feel the phantom rumble of the earth beneath your feet like there was some great primordial worm burrowing below.

There was a thin barrier between this world and another...right here in Hawkins…right in this square...and whatever was on the other side was eagerly testing the strength of it.

"Not consecrated," you finally answered. "Desecrated."

You surveyed the square, ignoring the scathing, suspicious looks sent your way as you did.

You weren't here to make friends, you just needed to find someone in charge. Needed to get to work.

There was a group of people near city hall digging through the rubble; a young woman with curly hair pointed and gave some direction as they moved pieces of all shapes and sizes. You took a few steps, hoping she might be the authority figure you were looking for...and then there was a commotion. The group frantically moved several cinder blocks...and revealed an arm, a face, and cold unseeing eyes.

You expected to feel a wave of sorrow to move through them, but you could only sense their collective fatigue and it numbed you further.

Another one. At least there's an answer. Where are we gonna put this one?

Your steps faltered and your foot knocked into something on the ground that clattered—a broken plastic walkie talkie; the young woman's head immediately snapped towards you. Her eyes got wide as though she was startled, and then her expression morphed into something angry and hateful.

Hostile.

"Hey!" she shouted at you.

Great, that was just what you needed.

You pivoted back so you could warn Mary Victoria to keep calm even if the townspeople got violent, but she stood, frozen, watching another group as they picked through a pile of boxes stacked in the center of the square.

You followed her line of sight until you landed on one of the volunteers. A young man with fluffy brown hair, an easy smile that grew as he chatted with his group, and a stubble-covered square jaw.

You could almost see the gears grinding in Mary Victoria's head as she watched him; you wondered if everything was going in slow motion for her.

His hair ruffled as he threw his head back in a laugh, the shrug of his muscles beneath his polo as he picked up a box to haul it over his shoulder, and the little crinkle of his forehead as he concentrated on balancing his burden.

Then along you came. The moments ticking along as you leaned into her eyeline, face contorted in confusion, hand coming up to snap her out of her reverie.

"What are you doing?" you asked. You looked back and forth between her and the guy in confusion.

"I'm just enjoying the view," she shrugged and continued to look unabashedly.

"We're in the middle of a mission. The middle of a disaster zone," you reminded her.

"And I'm a nun," she retorted and nodded back over at the guy. "But I'm not blind. He's pretty cute. I can multitask."

You rolled your eyes.

Of course you got the horny nun.

"Hey!" the woman shouted again.

"Shit," you groaned. "Act natural."

"What does that mean?"

"Hey! Who are you? FEMA?"

"Uhhhh," Mary Victoria fumbled and looked to you. “I mean…”

"No we—" you started but you were cut off.

"Military? Department of Energy?" she continued. "Because you're a little too late."

"Hang on a second. Do we look like we're Military?" Mary Victoria laughed.

"Mare," you groaned in warning.

"What?"

"No. We're not the military," you turned back to the woman.

“How did you even get here? The roads have been—”

"Nance! What's going on?" The guy Mary Victoria had been ogling jogged over, a curly-haired teenage boy hot on his heels. "Who are they?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out," Nance replied.

The two of them chattered and a handful of other bystanders also jumped in. Mary Victoria tried to explain as best she could, and you would have put a stop to all of it if your eyes hadn't been glued to the teenage boy's shirt.

A familiar black and white raglan sleeve shirt that had seen better days; the white was faded and dingy, the screeching demonic face had a splatter of blood across it, actual blood, making it look even more nefarious. There was a jagged slash through the words with edges that curled and a bloody bandage beneath it, but you didn't need to guess what it said.

Hellfire Club.

Does that mean he knew—

"Hey," the boy exclaimed and pointed a finger right at your face. "It's you."

What?

"Me?" You put a hand on your chest; the crowd wend silent and focused their attention on you. Your eyes flit across them and then to Mary Victoria who held her hands up innocently.

"You know her?" Nance asked the boy.

"From the tunnels," he elaborated and then turned to his friend. "We were there...Steve you remember with Dart and then she..."

"You!" Steve shouted in recognition. "But you're...how are you alive?"

And then you realized.

The tunnels. That night. With Dart. The tunnels.

November 5, 1984

It was the end of your shift--the end of your "week" after trading shifts left and right so you could have the 30th and 31st to celebrate Halloween with the guys—and relief sunk deep into your bones.

You had no plans for the next two days but your bed and all of the junk food and trash television you could stomach.

"You going to Eddie's after you get outta here?" your coworker asked.

And Eddie, of course...but unlike the stack of Kraft Mac and Cheese that you were stocking up on for your hedonistic sloth-fest, you could never get sick of your boyfriend.

"Not tonight," you shook your head. "I'll probably sleep right up til his set at the Hideout tomorrow night."

"Awww, sweetie," she cooed, knowing how many hours you'd pulled. "He better dedicate a song to you, making time for his shows every week."

You grinned a secret little smile at her and nodded.

He dedicated them all to you. Even if he didn't say it into the microphone, he would prove his devotion after the fact. With his eyes and hands.

And his mouth.

You said farewell to your coworkers and headed out into the parking lot; you cursed as you fumbled with the brown paper bags against your body and the keys in your hand as you approached your car.

"Of course," you angrily muttered to yourself as you felt the keyring slip through your fingers and hit the pavement. "You never get a cart. No matter how much you buy, you never get a cart. ‘It's not that bad. I can carry it.’ Idiot. No you can't."

You groaned a little as you knelt down, and as you tried to find them by touch alone, you saw the movement in your peripherals.

Just a flash, a barely-there blur in the darkness beyond the parking lot.

But you saw it.

Then in a blink, he was there.

Gabriel held your key, inches from your face; your eyes moved up his form to meet his. Eyes you knew so well, better than your own. They had always stared at you, unblinking, with a still coldness that would have made anyone else uneasy.

If only they could see him.

Actually, you hadn't even seen him in a while. Not since you’d run; not since he appeared in your rear view mirror, getting smaller and smaller as you drove further away what felt like a lifetime ago. You always knew he could catch up at any time, but the satisfaction had been so great. You hadn't seen him...but you had felt his presence every so often. It's why you always turned tail and ran again...until Hawkins.

You’d thought it was over. That you were free.

You should have known better.

“Have you come to bring me home?” You asked bitterly, unwilling to trust him.

He flexed his hand and the keys jingled, a sign for you to take them. You reached out, but before you could even touch them they were in your grasp and your arms were empty. Across the lot he stood by your car—you could see the tops of the paper bags through the windows, secured in your backseat with a seatbelt—and he nodded his head in the direction of the trees.

He then began walking.

So...not home. Somewhere else.

The urge to follow him was strong and your body reacted to it. Your feet moved without your permission, an automatic process akin to breathing; it was a survival method, to prevent whatever demise would befall you if you didn’t choose to do so on your own. You stopped yourself for a second, to test the mettle of whatever consequence might await you.

He’d never led you astray before; never lied...but never told the truth either. He always...omitted the truth. When you were young and naive in your faith, he brought you great comfort. But ever since you had begun to ask why, he became less willing to cooperate. This time though...something about him made you feel sick. The swell of his unseen form was overwhelming, and as the human form got further away, the celestial presence encroached on your body...smothered you.

You considered, for the briefest second, turning on your heel to run just like you had done for the past two years. However, a screeching, whistling roar began to fill the stillness of the night, louder and louder. Not in your ears, but in the very depths of your soul itself. And you knew you couldn't escape whatever he was leading you towards even if you wanted to.

So you followed silently. For miles. For hours.

Cars passed by on the road every so often, blinding you, but you couldn't stop. Even when you needed to rest, he kept walking and the tether between you was tested. You'd wince and groan but it fell on deaf ears. Every so often something would snap or creak or groan in the darkness around you and you would startle; he didn't even give you the decency to tell you everything was ok.

Some guardian angel he was.

You were confused when Gabriel finally stopped and you stepped in place beside him.

Merrill's Pumpkin Patch; you and Eddie had tried to make a visit last week ahead of Halloween but had been turned away. The pumpkins had all been dead and in various stages of putrefaction then, and it was even worse now.

A car sat idle in the middle of the field; the doors and the trunk were still open.

"Abandoned?" you asked.

"No," he responded, suddenly appearing within the field itself, staring at the ground. You groaned and followed after him, careful not to step on any of the rotten pumpkins as you did, until you reached the car...and a hole in the ground. There was a rope tied to the front grill of the car that dropped into the depths of the hole.

"What the fuck?" you muttered.

"Keep steady your steps according to His promise," Gabriel recited. "And let no iniquity get dominion over you."

"I'm not..."you shook your head at him and looked down into the dark abyss below you. "I really haven't been keeping up with Bible study since I...yeah."

"This is your first step." His voice surrounded you, and when you looked up to question him, he was gone.

"Gabriel?" you called out. "What...Gabriel come back! You led me to...a hole in the ground! What is this? G-Gabriel!"

When he didn't return or answer you, you shook your head and rolled your eyes. This was the first step? A test of faith? Of trust? To follow him blindly across town and to a field...only to have to walk all the way back? What a load of—

A scream came from the hole, a shriek.

"Help, help, help," someone called distantly from below then shrieked again. A bloodcurdling thing that sent a chill down your spine and had your hair standing on end.

You didn't think twice; you simply jumped.

It was instinct. Second nature. Fate.

It annoyed you.

Because what the hell.

No normal human being in their right mind would jump into a hole like this after hearing a scream like that.

As you landed, you were sure you pulled or twisted something in your hip; the action heroes in the movies made everything look easier than it was and it seemed some...subconscious instinct thought you were a hero without realizing you were just a grocery store clerk a few years out of high school where you really loathed to partake in PE anyway.

And you were cursed.

"It would really be nice if you could show up right now and tell me this isn't the curse, this is my destiny, huh Gabe?" you called out, hoping your guardian would hear you.

No luck.

"Fucker."

Looking around, you realized that the thought of what was waiting at the bottom of the hole hadn't crossed your mind at all. But a tunnel...well what else could you expect? It was dark and dank, filled with roots and vines and muck. The air was stale and filled with floating particles.

Could they be seeds? Like dandelion fluff?

You reached out a hand and as one of the particles landed on your skin, you felt a shock run through you.

You never truly understood what your grandfather or father did during their trips, their missions. All of the stories, the warnings, the preparation could never hold up to the reality and the electricity that coursed through your veins.

There were flashes before your eyes: a desolate waste, a gaping mouth, bloodshot eyes, a thousand teeth, veins black with tar-like blood, a pulsing portal, and monsters. So many monsters.

Your gifts, though dormant from misuse and lack of practice, might have been from Heaven, but they were certainly rooted on Earth. Now that you were introduced to the darkness, the infernal, the atrocity firsthand, you could feel the way it carved into the ground. Infected these tunnels like a cancer. Mingled and stained and tainted what would otherwise be bright and healthy and alive.

There was another shriek down one of the tunnels and you sighed and went into action.

If fate wanted you to be a hero, what else could you do but be one?

"Fucking angel should be the one swooping in to save someone stuck in a hole," you grumbled and started jogging through the tunnel in the direction of the sound. "Not me."

It wasn't as bad as you made it out to be; though out of practice, your body was made for this—you were born for this—and you quickly sensed the direction you needed to go in when the tunnel forked. Instinctually skipping over rocks and roots as they appeared underfoot. The density of the infernal particles became thicker the further you went, and you covered your mouth with the collar of your jacket so you wouldn't breathe it in.

You turned a corner and almost tripped over a group of figures huddled in the opening of what could only be described as the core of the tunnel system. A cavernous hub where several paths converged.

The figure at the front of the group threw something into the Hub and the cavern erupted into flames. You hadn’t smelled the gasoline until it ignited and when the heat of the fireball hit you, errant bits of flame licked at the edges of your clothes and hair.

The group—an older teenage boy and several kids—all recoiled and patted the singed bits of themselves. They startled at the sight of you.

“Jesus Chr—”

“Who is that? Who are you?”

“What the hell?”

“What are you just standing there for?!”

You watched, enthralled, as the infernal growths in the center of the cavern and along the walls writhed and screeched from the flames. You could sense…emotions emanating from it. Anger, pain, danger, wrath. But hands were quickly placed on your shoulders and you were turned back in the direction you came.

“I don't know you the hell you are but we need to get out of here,” the older boy said frantically. “Who sees a hole in the ground and just...jumps in.”

“To be fair, you all are also down here,” you argued.

“She’s got a point,” one of the kids piped up.

There was a shuddering screech that echoed from beyond the cavern, from one of the connecting tunnels, and the guy pushed past you and ran.

“Run! Go, go, go!” He led the way, looking back every so often to make sure everyone followed him, including you.

You were shoulder to shoulder with one of the kids at the back of the group who just kept saying “shit” over and over. You quickly skipped over an exposed root on the ground but the kid tripped and hit the ground. Hard.

The others kept running for a second but you skidded to a stop to help him to his feet, only for a slithering vine-like tentacle to shoot out from its place along the wall and wrap around his ankle. You watched, horrified, as it yanked him back to the ground and began dragging him back in the other direction. He screamed and the others immediately rushed to his aid.

The tentacle was strong but not as fast as they were. The kids grabbed his arms, his shoulders, and tried to yank him away from the infernal limb.

“I’ve got you Mike. I’ve got you,” the older boy was obviously the strongest and wedged himself beneath Mike, arms wrapped around his torso as he dug his feet into the ground for leverage.

“Don’t just stand there,” one of the kids—a girl—screamed at you. “Help! Do something!”

Little did she know, it had been building inside of you since the heat of the fire had touched your skin. You tried to swallow it down, unsure if you'd be able to control it for so long. When you'd been younger, when you didn't know how to channel it, you had hurt people accidentally. Destroyed things.

That same feeling of untethered power was trapped inside of you now, aching to be released. You didn't want to hurt anyone, let alone these kids. But you thought of the flashes you had seen when you touched the particle; you needed to use that power to stop the darkness now.

They would die anyway if you didn't.

You dropped to your knees by Mike’s feet and held a hand over his ankle. You closed your eyes and channeled the churning heat, along all of your nerves, through your limbs to the very heart of you. Then directed it outwards to your fingertips.

“I shall defend against the wickedness and the snares of the devil,” you recited under your breath and placed your hand directly on the slimy, writhing tentacle.

It stilled beneath your touch and loosened on Mike’s ankle as the shrieks from the hub echoed around you. Then from the one tentacle you touched, a burning red glow grew and it quickly moved through all of the connecting parts that had penetrated the rock and earth around you. It burned red hot like lava, illuminating the tunnels, and then rapidly cooled and crumbled into ash.

You let out a huff of disbelieving laughter; you didn’t really expect that to work.

“What did you do?” Mike stared at you with wide eyes. “What was that?”

“Are you good?” You asked him. “Are you hurt?”

“No! But how did you—”

He didn’t get to finish his thought as a cold, chilling breath hit the side of your face and a roar deafened you. The shock knocked you to your rear and you stared deeply into a petal-like mouth lined with razor sharp teeth as it shrieked.

The mouth snapped at you once, twice, and you almost held your hand up to inflict your power at it like you had with the tentacle but one of the kids got to his feet and immediately set himself between you and the creature, arms held out to shield you.

“Dart, Dart!” The creature backed away, and the petals shrunk in on themselves to form a cone-shaped head that tilted back and forth. “You remember me don’t you?”

The kids hissed at their friend and told him to get back.

“Trust me,” he reassured them, and then turned back to the creature. He removed his goggles and bandana, tipped his baseball hat further back on his head. “Dart, you remember me. Don’t you? It’s me, your friend. Dustin. Alright?

“Will you let us pass?” He asked sweetly.

The creature roared again, spittle spraying onto you and Dustin both. Your hand shot out and grabbed the back of Dustin’s shirt as he tried to take a step forward, but he looked back at you and waved you away.

“I’m sorry for the storm cellar,” he laughed at the creature. “That was real douchey of me.” The creature made a chittering sound as though it agreed with him.

You didn’t understand. Was this…his pet? Did he try to keep an infernal creature from another world—from the depths of hell—as a pet? Your thoughts briefly turned to Eddie, who had befriended all manner of creatures around Forest Hills, and then suspended your disbelief.

“You hungry?” Dustin then asked and dug into the pocket of his jeans. “Yeah?”

“What are you—”

“Shhhhh.”

“He’s insane.”

“Shut. Up.”

“I’ve got your favorite,” Dustin ignored his friends and held out his hand as a peace offering. Palm flat, the way someone would if they were feeding a horse. “Nougat. You want it?”

Dart sniffed at it with a gurgling grunt and started tapping its feet impatiently as Dustin unwrapped the candy.

“Eat up buddy,” he said softly and waved at everyone to go on. “Delicious. There’s plenty more that that came from. Come on, there you go.” He helped you to your feet and then pushed you ahead.

You ran ahead to the head of the group to trail behind the older boy while the kids followed.

"You know where you're going?" you asked him, pointing to the makeshift map in his hand, drawn in crayon.

"Why? Do you?" he scoffed and shined his flashlight in your face. "Who are you anyway? You just show up and you...burned that thing! Are you another one like Eleven?"

"A thank you would be nice." You narrowed your eyes at him. "What do you mean another one? Who's Eleven?"

The tunnel suddenly shook violently and a collective roar came from behind you. The kids gasped in shock and pain as they fell and scraped elbows and knees on the tunnel walls.

"What was that?" the girl asked.

"They're coming!" Mike exclaimed. "Run! Run!"

"Let's go, let's go!" You were the one to lead the way this time, following your instinct once again. You pointed out the roots and bumps as you went. "Watch your step. Jump. Duck."

"There it is!" The older boy powered past you to get to the rope that they had dropped. He turned around and held his hands out. "Go go go, let's go!"

The girl was the first to step up and the older boy boosted her up and out of the hole. You helped with the next one. You were not as strong as you assumed the older boy was, but you could dig your heels into the ground and borrow a little bit of the earth's elemental fortitude for this.

"Lucas, grab on!" the girl reached out and grabbed the hands of the boy you were helping.

Mike was next. Between the older boy and the two kids above ground, he made it up safely.

But your time was up, and as the first of your pursuers rounded the corner and bounded for you, Dustin and the older boy grabbed a hold of one another to try and find comfort before their demise.

You, on the other hand, moved in front of them, shielded them as Dustin had to you; you had to protect them.

You clasped your hands together as though in prayer, and closed your eyes to focus. Time slowed down, and with every beat of your heart, another set of footsteps were added to the mix signifying another creature prepared to attack. You could imagine it. A wave of rocketing bodies and vicious teeth.

And you stood there, ready to cut through them, or be cut through yourself.

"I shall defend you in the hour of your conflict," you muttered and thought about a sword cutting through a foe, about hands parting the wild waves of the sea, about a wall of flames that could stop a foe dead in its tracks.

The heat built up once again, engulfed you and then exploded out from you. The kids above shouted in shock, followed by several pathetic whimpers. You opened your eyes as you felt a whip of air brush past you, and although you saw several charred bodies of the creatures at your feet, you turned and watched several more that had made it past your defenses continue down the tunnel.

"Where are they going?"

"They're going after El!"

"How did you do that?!"

"Nevermind that," you dismissed. "You need to get out of here. Get to safety."

You grabbed Dustin and helped the older boy boost him out of the tunnels.

"Let's go," the older boy held his hands out for you. "Up."

"No, you," you mirrored him. "I need to stop them."

"What?" he argued. "No, we need to get out of here."

"You!" you pointed up at Mike. "Where are those things going? You said they're going after El. Who's El?"

"She's our friend, she..." he shook his head. "The demodogs are going after her. To stop her. She's trying to close the gate."

"The...gate?" you narrowed your eyes at him.

"To the Upside Down," Lucas piped up. "It's another dimension."

It flashed in your mind's eye, the vision of the pulsing portal. And this time, standing in front of it was a small, lone figure.

Fuck.

"Are we just telling everyone now?" Dustin asked.

The kids all started bickering again and you rolled your eyes. If someone was in danger...regardless of whatever the gate was or whatever these things were or whoever El...Eleven was, you needed to stop it.

You were the only one here who could.

You slapped your hand on the older guy's shoulder and he stopped bickering with the kids to look at you.

"Listen," you started frankly. "I don't know what's going on. I really don't care to know either. Whatever you came down here for? It's dangerous. We all know that. Why you thought you and a gaggle of kids were a good...army? Candidates for heroes? I don't know.

"So let me do it. Let me help your friend, let me be the hero. I can handle it. Whatever all of you came down here for, it's only gonna get you killed if you keep at it."

His eyes darted back and forth between yours before he swallowed hard and nodded. He started climbing the rope to get up to the surface but stopped to look at you.

"We're gonna wait right here until you get back," he said with finality. "And if you need help...just yell."

You reluctantly nodded and waited until he got to the top before you turned and stared down the looming tunnel ahead of you.

You used the first few steps to reground yourself, to sense what was ahead. You could still feel the vibration of the retreating demodogs; they were either not as fast as they seemed or these tunnels were much more vast than you really acknowledged. You thought about the map that the kids had...the way that several tunnels switched back on themselves...

There had been the cavernous hub, sure...but another cavern...a room...

The Gate. A portal to another world. A doorway into hell.

The Order called them Atrocities. A wicked and unpleasant thing only meant to cause chaos and pain and sow destruction on the Earth.

How had you not sensed it this entire time living in Hawkins? When it was so obvious to you now? Maybe you had always known; you just ignored it. Maybe that's why Gabriel had led you here so obviously, so tediously. You hadn't wanted anything to do with the Order or the Atrocities or your fate. And it had snuck up on you, just like it always had.

A bitterness filled you; you didn't want this. You didn't want any of this. You wanted a normal life. You deserved a normal life.

You stopped in your tracks and sighed.

"What if I just turn back now?" you called out to no one. Or maybe to Gabriel or to God Himself. "What if I just choose to let the Darkness win? Huh? What then?

"Why do I need to do this? Why do I need to do this? It could be anyone else. It could be this...Eleven. It could be...I don't know it could be my Father? You could have brought him here. Why does it have to be me?"

There was a pulse through the earth then, another shaking rattling boom that nearly sent you to your knees. An ear splitting screech echoed through the tunnels and the vibration of the demodogs got faster, as though they were being urged into battle by their nefarious master.

And that was more than answer enough for you.

There was no one else. Even Eleven couldn't do it alone. It had to be you.

You conjured the image of the portal in your mind, the small figure that struggled against the immense power of Hell that laid behind the thin glowing barrier. You thought of the vastness of the tunnels and mapped them in the planes of your mind.

They were like veins and the portal was the heart.

One could stop the pulsing of the heart and the veins would stop too, or you could block the veins and starve the heart.

So while the figure—Eleven—struggled to stop the heart, you worked on the veins.

"By the Power of Heaven," you took a breath and steeled yourself in your anger, found strength in the smiting wrath of your lapsed faith. You'd been reciting the oath of the Order all night, and now would be no different. "I will thrust the wicked spirits who wander through the world for the ruin of souls...back into the depths of Hell itself."

It took a beat to find it, to connect with the slow-moving tectonic plates of the Earth and the molten hot mantle below. You called it forward and it obeyed; burning, melting, molding until you felt your own body sink into the ground ever so slightly. Then you willed it outwards and the tunnel system rattled; the remnants of the organic, otherworldly matter shrieked in agony as they burned before they were crushed under the massive weight and pressure of churning earth.

You started at the hub—an easy target—and worked your way outwards. One by one the vibration of the demo dogs slowed and stopped as they succumbed to the assault. As the tunnels churned and burned and collapsed around them and the earth swallowed them whole.

What was the power of Heaven and Hell when the Earth could provide just as much wrath of its own?

You felt the distant feeling of betrayal as Dustin's Dart was consumed and put down, and then the rest. There was a collective cry to the master beyond the portal that they had failed, and then a shuddering wail as the connection to the other world was severed.

You opened your eyes briefly to celebrate your triumph, only to see the churning earth consume you as well.

It was an onslaught.

The burning soil, the turbulent motion, and then the stillness of it as you found yourself trapped in a peaty prison. You tried to take a breath, tried to scream, tried to see, but every time you moved, the dirt shifted around you.

You were surrounded. You couldn't move. You were buried. You still felt the vestiges of agony at the corners of your mind as your otherworldly adversaries' lives were taken from them and it spurned your own panic.

Before you had been overtaken, you had thrown your hands up to shield yourself; it provided you the tiniest little pocket of air. You shimmied slightly so you could gain access to it, so you could breath, and you took a hungry gulp of stale spare air. You tried to control your breathing; this was all you would have until you could get free.

If you could get free.

If you didn't die.

You felt an unfamiliar emotion try to overtake you; you had asked Father Jinette once what dying felt like. He said it would be peaceful; it was hell that you needed to worry about. But this...this didn't feel peaceful at all. It felt overwhelming.

If you died here, no one would ever find you. Those kids and their friend...would they tell anyone? Who would they tell? They didn't know who you were.

Your car. They would find your car in the parking lot at Bradley's though.

Your car.

"Gabriel!" you cried out in realization. You could barely hear yourself; there was dirt in your ears too. "Gabriel! Ga-gabriel please help me, please, please. I need you, I need you."

There was nothing. No sound, no shifting, you were still stuck in place with even less air than before.

You stifled your sobs, knowing they wouldn't help you.

You tried to call him silently again, in your head. You envisioned his stupid human form appearing in front of you or you appearing outside. Where was outside? Where were you? Even if you did manage to appear out there? Where would you be?

You didn't want this anymore, you didn't want this. You had never wanted this. Ever. But you’d told that boy that you would be a hero so he wouldn't have to be because you would survive and he wouldn't.

How wrong you were.

You were alone there. No one would come to save you. You would die.

You'd be buried here with the other bodies, with the demodogs and when someone noticed your car in the lot of Bradley's, they'd—

Your throat clenched.

Eddie.

They would call Eddie and say you disappeared and he would never know that you...that you loved him, that you were what you were, that you would die for him.

But could you live for him?

If you were gone unexpectedly, what would Eddie do? It would destroy him. It would kill him. And you couldn't do that.

So you had to live.

You had to crawl from this dank, dark pit. You had that little bit of space...you could wiggle and shuffle and get free.

You had power. You could control the earth, you could manipulate it. Draw the strength you needed from it to get free. You still had the shift of the core of the Earth on your side.

It was dark, unbelievably dark. You didn't know which way was up or down. Had the avalanche of soil knocked you backwards or were you still "standing" upright? Did you have to dig up? Or sideways? Was there another pocket of air somewhere you could get to before it was too late?

You considered all of the factors, all the reasons for living.

And the only one that really mattered as you began to dig...was Eddie.

You thought of your silly stupid boyfriend and all of the things that he did for you, all of the ways he made you happy, all the ways you loved him and needed him. The ways that he gave your life meaning.

"Hey sweetheart, I'm here," you could practically hear his voice. Not Gabriel's emotionless tone. The warmest, most loving voice you'd ever heard, full of encouragement and support. " You can't die on me now."

You pushed the dirt down and wedged your body upwards. Further and further and further.

"You're almost there," he encouraged you. "I believe in you. Only a little bit more to go. You can't give up. I need you."

You thought of all the ways he needed you, needed your company and support. Thought of the ways you held him as he was sad, and cheered with him when he was happy. He had Wayne and Rick...he had his friends...but your love...he couldn't survive without your love. He had told you in the throes of passionate worship.

"Just a little bit more, do you feel it?" he asked. "It feels a little bit lighter now. Hold your breath if you need to. Keep going for me."

What was he without you? What were you without him?

You had to live so he could.

Your hand burst through the last layer of dirt and you gasped for air greedily as you hoisted yourself up and out. You collapsed on your side and watched as the ground shifted with instability and filled in the hole you created back up, the remnants of your power still at play.

A light rain washed over you, caking the dirt to your hair and skin and clothes. Your fingertips ached, skin and nails broken from clawing your way out.

You wailed into the night.

You were broken.

And you were alone.

But you were alive.

"You made it out alive!" The boy, Dustin, grabbed you by the shoulders and shook you from your recollection. "We thought you were dead."

You briefly considered it; looking back now, that was the night everything started to change.

So yes, you had died in a way.

"Hop looked for you for days..." he continued. "Even El..."

"We saw the tunnel collapse," Steve added. "We just thought...obviously no one could survive that."

"B-but people come back from the dead...kind of all the time in Hawkins."

That gave you pause.

"What the hell does that mean?" You put your hands on your hips. "Come back from the dead?"

The two of them went back and forth, tripping over each other's words about how people seemed to be dead and then they were not, more times than they could count. Usually they were just hiding in the woods or in another country or...

Alright, that's a relief. No spontaneous resurrections. You could check that off the list.

The boys continued to chatter and Nance was clearly over it.

"Excuse me," Nance piped up. "Excuse me!"

Both boys went silent and she turned to you.

"Who are you again?" she asked suspiciously.

Mary Victoria took it upon herself to introduce you both by name and then when she didn't get an immediate response she added, "we're from the church."

You winced as a few of them laughed out loud Nance included.

"Is it always like this?" Mary Victoria asked you out of the side of her mouth.

"Pretty much," you sighed, and then turned your attention back to the crowd. "We're not from the church but we're not not from the church. It's complicated."

"What does that even mean?" someone shouted. "You're here to say prayers with us? Our own reverend did that and now he's dead."

"What church sends two girls in a beaten down shitbox of a car," another person laughed.

"Yeah, we need an army not a prayer circle!"

"We're just here to help," you explained tiredly, desperate for them to put their trust in you. "Wherever you need us. Supply runs, medical, recovery, anything."

"We don't need help," Nance spat. "And we don't trust strangers, so if you could kindly take your things and go back where you came from."

"Nancy!" Steve exclaimed. "I think they can help."

"She's been here before," Dustin tried to explain and pointed at you. "She helped us. She saved Mike."

"Fat load of good that did him, he's dead now too," Nancy lashed out and then froze and covered her mouth. The group went silent and she fidgeted under the weight of everyone's sympathetic gazes.

You saw it, for a split second as her shield went down and she desperately clawed to pick it back up. Someone young and innocent with all the hope in the world ahead of her…forced to grow up too fast and carry an immeasurable weight on her shoulders just for a little while with the promise of an ultimate prize if she could succeed…only for it to be ripped away against her will.

You saw yourself.

"I'm sorry," She said when she finally regained composure. "I...I'm sorry. That's...and we only have so many hours of daylight..."

"Hey! You're mourning," Mary Victoria piped up. You were glad she did, because you couldn’t. "You're tired. It's been a tough few days, weeks—"

"Years," Nancy sighed miserably.

"—you just need to sit for a second. Take a break. Let's...is there someplace with coffee or something? I'm not good at a lot of things, but I'm good for a shoulder to cry on and a shitty cup of coffee."

Nancy nodded and gestured a makeshift mess tent in the square where people were putting together food for the volunteers. You mouthed a quick 'thank you' to Mary Victoria as she ushered Nancy away.

You didn't miss the way she winked at you.

You didn't even need to give her a Lesson 2. She understood this was the best time to play detective.

"Alright." You looked at all the others and clapped your hands together. "How can I help then?"

They put you to work.

It was no different than anything you had done at the Mission in LA, but it felt much more purposeful. Not only because you got information in return for the help you offered, but because you would always think of Hawkins as your home.

The townspeople didn't trust you, understandably. Many of them don’t know you, and the few who recognized your face questioned why you had returned at all. They cast wary and judgmental gazes at you and when you tried to influence their thoughts of you with gentle waves of comfort, your attempts were thwarted.

They were hardened and suspicious, irreparably damaged by the nightmares they had seen, and no heavenly powers could change that.

You we’re lucky, though, that a few you did get paired with fed you enough information for you to piece together what happened over the last few years since you left, not just the past few weeks.

You packed boxes of clothes for families who had been displaced with Patty Fischer, one of your old coworkers from Bradley's. She vaguely recognized you—she'd been a cashier while you mostly stocked the floor—but she'd been glad for a friend.

Patty told you the widest array of information—loose lips and all—but the vaguest.

The StarCourt mall fire, the satanic massacres...about how a devil really had risen from the depths of the earth to destroy their town.

"All the stories were true," she sighed. "But the nightmare's almost over...we're just left with the aftermath."

You dug through rubble with Mr. Richardson. You left recovered bodies for another team to handle—to burn or bury, you didn't quite know—and took discarded weapons along to a stockpile in the square in an old wheelbarrow. You learned that his brother had been one of the victims of an accident at the Hawkins Laboratory and his niece died avenging him in the battle against Vecna.

"He had his armies, but so did we," he chuckled sadly, wiping tears from his eyes. "My niece...she gave them the fight of her life. And of course we had our hero, Jane Hopper. Shame about her and the chief. Those bats gave us a fight though."

Bats?

Mostly though, you worked with Dustin. He was eager to ask you questions—the real reason he wanted to work with you, you were sure—so you made a game of it: an answer for an answer. He started. With two questions actually:

How had you survived the tunnels and where had you gone?

And you answered him truthfully. You had crawled out...and then laid low for a while before leaving town altogether to help the next people in need.

"Who else needed help? Did you find gates to the upside down anywhere else?" he shot questions at you rapidly.

"Woah woah," you held your hands out. "Rules are rules. My turn."

"Fine," he conceded. You tilted your head and pointed at his shirt.

"Hellfire Club."

"That's...not a question," he curled in on himself defensively. "What about it?"

For both of your sakes, you knew you needed to start with...maybe a gesture of good faith...familiarity. The only thing Dustin knew about you was...well, that you could help, that he could rely on you, even if he couldn't trust you yet.

You needed to prove you were here for a reason, and not just to play some heroic game with the town's very real lives.

"I have one of those shirts." You gave him a soft smile.

"No shit!" He dropped the box in his hand and clapped his hands together. "You went to Hawkins High? You were literally under our nose this whole time?"

"No," you laughed at his enthusiasm. "Well...no. I dropped out of school before I came to Hawkins the first time around, but my boyfriend was the one who introduced me to DnD and I even played a game with them. Which is why I had a shirt."

"Who was your boyfriend? Gareth? You're his type, hero adventure girl."

"Oh my god, no. Robbing the cradle; Gareth was my little buddy. No...uh...don't know how old you are...or how taboo his name might be around here but...Eddie...Eddie Munson was my boyfriend."

It was like a record scratch; Dustin blanched and stared at you wide eyed. Like he had seen a ghost.

You suddenly felt bad.

"E-Eddie?" he repeated the name. "You were..."

"Hey, no, like I said, I'm sorry. I know he's dead...but I didn't know if people still thought..."

"No he was my friend too," he interrupted you. "He...people...I mean after...you don't understand. Nobody does, really. He...he sacrificed himself...saved a lot of people. He saved me. When...Vecna first attacked Hawkins...people blamed Eddie for killing those kids but he did whatever he could to stop Vecna from escaping the Upside Down. And the Gates still opened but...but he helped us stop Vecna."

The two of you went back and forth for a while, continuing questions and answers.

Dustin regaled you with some stories about Eddie but kept it heartfelt and funny instead of sad. You’d been surprised and a little guilty to hear that he had flunked senior year again after you left but you melted at the way Eddie never ragged on the kids for having long distance relationships when his own smoking hot girlfriend was in Chicago.

You heard about the Upside Down and Vecna, about the creatures from another dimension, Eddie's sacrifice, and the Gates that had yet to be closed.

He had the decency to avoid telling you how Eddie died, but considering everything else...you knew it wasn't peaceful. You were still grateful.

In return, you told him stories about your travels. More than you had really told Mary Victoria because he was a kid and could do with something fantastical in the midst of this tragedy. Not everything, but things you felt comfortable exposing him to.

The demon who had possessed a bride in New Orleans, the time someone had trapped a hearth deity in Cádiz and had used them to burn the homes of their enemies...

"And then someone tried to reanimate a bunch of bodies for their own..." You waved your hand to find the right words. "Underground boxing league. I don't know."

"Zombie boxing!" He was in awe, cherubic face alight with joy; it was easy to see why Eddie would have been fond of him. "That would be very cool; I would pay to see that."

"A lot of people did."

"I mean...imagine you knock someone's head off and they just keep fighting."

"In theory, ok...it sounds cool," you agreed. "But it's the means that someone uses to get there."

There was a holler from someone across the square about breaking for lunch. Perfect timing too as the smoky haze from the fissures—the Gate—began to meld together with the rolling cloud coverage of an impending storm.

Everyone around you sighed in relief and took off towards the tent. Lunch would provide a much-needed respite.

"Heard that we've got turkey sandwiches today."

"Ol' Tim's being real generous with the supplies."

"Let's just get our strength up before it's feeding time, you guys," someone piped up as they pushed past the crowd. "You don't gotta run fast...you just have to run faster than the other guy."

That seemed a little concerning though.

Your mind raced to connect the dots as you followed the others to the mess tent.

Feeding time...running...bats...the gates still open...the nightmare almost over...but not over yet...

"Dustin," you turned to your new friend as you were handed your lunch. "What...what are they talking about? Running..."

He avoided your eyes, and instead turned to look for a place to sit amongst the volunteers. You kept talking as you followed him to a small card table at the corner of the tent.

"I hit something with my car on the way into town. It was a demodog, I think. If the gates are still open, are creatures still crossing over and attacking people?"

"It's...complicated," he answered hesitantly and took a bite of his sandwich.

"Explain it to me then. Vecna's gone...do you just...have no way to close the Gates?" you asked. "Because I can—"

"No!" He shouted mid-mouthful, and your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "It's...it's not that. Vecna might be gone, but that's not the only danger that's in the Upside Down. You could try to close the Gates...but...but Kas would just open them back up again."

"Kas?"

You hadn't heard that name before today, you were certain, but for some reason, it seemed familiar. Scratched something in the depths of your memory that you couldn't quite place your finger on.

Your stomach churned with uneasiness.

It wasn't that you didn't like not knowing something. It was that you knew it and it evaded you. And every second you failed to remember, someone could be in danger.

"Yes," Dustin swallowed and gestured for you to eat as he wove the tale. "He was Vecna's right hand. You see, Vecna couldn't cross the Gate without his spell being complete, so he sent Kas as the general of his armies until he could. To cause as much destruction in Hawkins and try to go after our friend Max. She was the key to finishing the spell.

"Kas came from our world, just like Vecna, but the Upside Down changed him too. Vecna offered him power in exchange for his loyalty, and he let Kas control the army. When Kas crossed back into this world, he started...remembering his human life, feeling remorseful. And he betrayed Vecna."

"So he could get his life back?" you questioned.

"When the battle was over, he tried to get all of the creatures back into the Upside Down and found that...he couldn't cross back to our world himself. He's stuck there."

You really tried to understand; you had heard of transformations like this before...distantly. They mostly occurred after someone had died. If Vecna had been left to the Upside Down to die...and the Upside Down really was some living, breathing dimension, Vecna's anger was what fueled him as a vessel for this power.

But once he was gone, and Kas was left...if Kas had regained some form of his humanity...

Then why was he stuck?

"And that's all he wants?" You needed reassurance. "To get back."

"Yes."

"And he can control these creatures?"

"Yes."

"So why is he still sending them to attack Hawkins?"

Maybe Vecna's influence wasn't gone after all, maybe you were dealing with some kind of vengeful, undead spirit who didn't realize he was actually dead in the first place.

You considered ways to deal with the undead. Burning their bones, some kind of exorcism-adjacent rite, banishing them altogether...

You could do this. You could handle it and close the gates and then Hawkins would be safe again.

"Because he's hungry," Dustin finally answered, his words weighing down upon him so much that his shoulders sagged as he said them.

Your stomach dropped and your body went cold with dread.

"Excuse me?"

You didn't mean to sound as grave as you did but...hungry?

The two of you had just been talking about zombies and reanimated corpses and all manner of creatures. He didn't think to bring this up before?

"Ope, I think Steve's calling me!" He ignored you and started to stand from the table. You were hot on his heels and grabbed his wrist to stop him. Everyone left in the tent still eating stopped their chatter to watch the spectacle.

"Dustin, what do you mean hungry?" Your eyes darted back and forth between his, willing him to tell you the truth. "What is Kas?"

Someone screamed from outside the confines of the tent and you both jumped in surprise.

“Everybody inside! Go! Run!"

The other volunteers who had been resting immediately got to their feet and began to flee; tables and chairs were tipped over, plates and food discarded, abandoned, and squished underfoot.

"We need to go!" Dustin grabbed your wrist and pulled you out of the tent into the chaos that had erupted in the square.

It was a cacophony of noise; people running and screaming, hiding.

"Arm yourselves!"

"Hide the children."

"Run, run!"

You dismissed it at first, the looming grey storm cloud in your peripheral vision, as you were dragged and Dustin spoke a mile a minute about finding Steve and Nancy and getting people to safety.

Then the cloud got closer.

And you realized it wasn't a cloud at all, wasn't a storm.

It was a swarm.

You stopped in your tracks and watched, for the briefest of seconds, all while Dustin yelled at you. A hundred bats led by three massive anthropomorphic winged creatures with sallow skin and claws. Even from this distance you could see the way their jaws opened unnaturally wide and revealed mouthfuls of razor-sharp fangs.

"What the hell is she doing just standing there?" Steve's voice reached your ears. You glanced back to see that he held a baseball bat with nails pierced through the wood at the end, while he handed Dustin a makeshift spear.

They weren't planning to run, they were planning to fight.

Alright. You could fight.

"What's going on?" Mary Victoria skidded to a stop by your side, out of breath from wherever she had been. "People started running, no one told me what was going on...and what the fuck is that?"

Mary Victoria, however, could not. And you were not gonna get your new friend killed right off the bat.

"Demobats," Steven and Dustin said in tandem.

"Vampires," you corrected them. "At least the big three are."

"Vampi—are you kidding me?" she huffed a breath of disbelief. "I said! I said vampires when we were in the car. Does this mean I'm psychic then? Is that my power or—"

"Now might not be the time to debate about that, Mare," you argued. You pulled the car keys out of your jacket pocket and slapped them into the palm of her hand. "Go to the car. There's a knife in the glovebox; lock yourself in."

"But I can help," she protested. "I can get the knife and stab some bats. How hard could it be?"

"Trust me, these suckers are hard to kill," Steve told her. "Leave it to the experts."

"Experts? It looks like you made these things in your garage," Mary Victoria scoffed. "Come on! I can help!"

As you watched them bicker back and forth, you failed to sense the imminent arrival of the attackers. Your eyes didn't sweep over the square quick enough to see the first of the bats—the ones most eager to feed—divebomb and begin their assault.

A resonating BOOM sounded off behind you and you swiveled on your toes to find a very ticked-off looking Nancy with a sawed-off shotgun in hand, muzzle smoking; she quickly reloaded and took a few pot shots at bats as they flew past in search of prey.

She turned, aimed directly past you and shot one out of the air as it was about to take a swipe at Steve, who had the good sense to duck before he got his head blown off too.

"What are you doing just standing here?" she yelled and cocked the shotgun. "Run. Hide. Fight. Do something before you get yourselves killed!"

Dustin and Steve ran into action, as well as several other volunteers who decided to take the defensive approach. And as the vampires and the remaining swarm of bats descended on the square, you snapped at Mary Victoria and then pointed at your car in the distance.

"Go!"

"Fine!" she scoffed. "But where are you gonna go? You don't have a weapon!"

"I am a weapon!" you shouted as you bolted down the street.

This wasn't the first time you'd fought an onslaught like this. Maybe not exactly like this but...close enough. You were pretty handy at throwing a punch, and it had been useful once or twice in a pinch, but that didn't help unless something was already on top of you. Your first actual experience in a fight had been an infestation of disgusting infernal spider-like things that had decimated a small town in West Virginia. Like something out of Tolkien's wicked imagination. You had used your abilities to draw fire from the core of the earth to burn their nests.

You had wondered then if Eddie would have been proud of you; you hated spiders, he always had to kill them for you. You couldn’t even stand to listen to him read about them in the Hobbit.

This would be a little trickier. Your adversaries were aerial, and even if they got low enough for you to strike, there were too many innocents in the area for you to do anything useful.

The vampires themselves would be the worst to deal with though; there were only so many ways you could weaken them, let alone try to kill them. Which would be ideal.

How could they conveniently leave out the fact that vampires plagued the town?

Shy of spending the time to dig through your trunk for maybe your grandfather's revolver and maybe a wooden bullet or two, you were left to rely on something a little less conventional here. The wheelbarrow full of discarded weapons was still beside the recovery area and you immediately skidded to a stop beside it to search for something suitable.

There were handguns without bullets, a few makeshift weapons like a machete made of a broken, sharpened street sign, which probably wouldn't help unless you got close enough to decapitate one of the vampires.

Because the bats might be a nuisance, but the real goal here was to take out those vampires.

You snagged a pocket knife from the bottom of the wheelbarrow then—

"Bingo!"

—you came across a dingy old crossbow and a hip quiver full of wooden bolts.

Not a stake, but good enough in a pinch.

"How many times in a girl's life can she be grateful for a small town hunter and their cache of crazy weapons," you asked out loud as you loaded a bolt into place.

Surveying the square, it was easy to tell this was not the townspeople's first rodeo; there were several bats down already, Dustin and Steve were back to back, only separating when something swooped at them, an array of people with slingshots and even an older woman with firecrackers and a wicked throwing arm.

You were grateful to find that Mary Victoria had barricaded herself in your car, especially once you saw small clusters of bats feeding on the bodies of those who were either too slow, too sure of themselves, or simply didn't have luck on their side.

Nancy, however, tried to play savior.

She ran to the aid of one of the downed bodies and used the butt of her shotgun to dislodge a few bats before shooting a few others. She knelt at the person's side and tried to offer some kind of aid—find a pulse or staunch the bleeding—but you knew it was too late.

Her gallantry made her lose focus and awareness of her surroundings. You felt it though, the tremor in the air around you as powerful wings beat several times. Heard the lustful, hungry breaths and the clacking of teeth that begged to sink into flesh for a meal most decadent.

You trusted your instinct; you took a breath to center yourself, pivoted on one leg, and pulled the trigger. The bolt soared true and pierced through the wing of the vampire. The unholy screech that echoed from its mouth as the pointed tip ripped through fragile skin and blood vessels was ear-splitting, as was the resounding crash as it lost velocity and skidded upon impact with the ground, spraying everything in the vicinity with dirt and gravel and chunks of dead grass.

You knew it was beginner's luck, and somehow still not good enough; you also knew you weren't gonna get another chance quite like it again. Especially as the massive creature recovered and turned its sights on you.

There was a moment as your eyes met and the vampire stilled unsettlingly. You willed yourself to break eye contact with their pure-black sclera and roam over their form.

Cascading locks of burnished gold hair, a demonic face with distinctly feminine and otherwise sweet features. Its skin was sickly pale, and unnaturally elongated bones practically protruded from the stretched dermis, with clawed hands and talons for feet. Modesty protected by strange garments made of a leathery hide and...the tattered remains of a cheerleading uniform.

Fear rarely got a hold of you anymore. Not like it used to. You'd stared in the face of danger many times and lived to tell the tale. To say that you were immune to it was incorrect; you simply didn't have time to panic right now. You could break down later, when the realization of how close you came to your own demise hit you; you always did.

Still, a lump formed in your throat as you observed the vampire. As it extended its wings, its injured skin stitched itself back together unnaturally, and it gave a few experimental flaps to ensure it was healed enough to fly.

It licked its lips enticingly and shot you a feral smile with its massive, razor sharp fangs proudly on display, and then rocketed back into the sky.

"Fuck," you hissed.

That was the look of something that viewed you as a threat and accepted the challenge.

That was not good.

“I had it handled,” Nancy scowled at you as she got to her feet.

“That’s a funny way to say thank you,” you quickly recovered and told her matter-of-factly, which earned an even more scathing expression as she reloaded her shotgun. "You need to know when something's a lost cause. If they're already on the ground being fed upon, it's too late."

"It's never too late," Nancy scoffed. "If I took that approach, my friends would have been dead ten times over already. Even if it's futile, I still need to try."

You glanced past her and loaded another bolt into the crossbow as quickly as you could, before aiming past her to fire at an incoming bat. Although you were aiming for its wing, trying to achieve something similar to what you did to the vampire—because at least the bats stayed down when you injured them enough—the bolt pierced through the mouth of the bat and tore through the back of its head, killing it instantly.

God damn, ok you really weren't great at this.

"At least trust someone to watch your back," you told her in the interim.

She reluctantly nodded and the two of you attempted to work in tandem.

You covered each other as you reload your weapons, communicated constantly about what you saw and didn't see. It was a little clumsy, sure, but you still were able to keep yourselves and others safe as they ran for cover.

At first the swarm focused on the sparse group of people who were out in the open—the vampires created distractions so the bats had the opportunity to strike by ripping doors and shutters off their hinges, overturning parked cars with the strong grip of their talons—but the opportunity to feed became too sporadic. They'd already picked off the weaker few and lost a significant number to the defense efforts.

You thought that it would be the opportunity for them to turn their attention to the skeletal buildings and every other nook and cranny that their feast might have hid.

Instead, they seemed to vanish.

The square was suddenly silent, bats and vampires nowhere to be seen. The sky was still hazy and swirling with storm clouds and smoke alike, but not one adversary darting across the ominous grey canvas.

Not even a single screeching cry or flap of wings to alert you to their possible presence.

"Did they leave?" you asked Nancy. It wasn't over...you knew it wasn't over...but wishful thinking and all.

Maybe something nice could happen for once in your life.

"No..." she narrowed her eyes and did a quick strafe to check behind you. "No, they're too hungry. They haven't attacked in an entire day, which was why we thought it would be safe to come and do cleanup."

People started emerging from their hiding spots and Steve yelled at them to get back inside.

"The square is pretty defensible," she continued. "Especially after the battle with Vecna. But they have a hive mind. They can communicate with one another. Even if a swarm is slaughtered, the entire legion of beasts waiting in the Upside Down experiences it through the connection. They know our tactics, which means they get crafty when they're ready to feed again."

"If there's a legion in the Upside Down, maybe they're waiting for backup." It was an easy assumption for you to make.

"No, it would take too long. Their best bet is to regroup, lure us into a false sense of security, then attack again."

"So they're coming up with a plan," you muttered. "And I'm sure Kas is a master strategist."

Nancy's expression immediately morphed into one of confusion.

"Wh-what did you say?" Nancy stuttered. "Did...did you just say Kas?"

You started to answer when a sharp, burning pain tore through your shoulders. You dropped the crossbow at the unexpected jerk of your body as you became airborne.

You watched as the distance between you and the ground rapidly increased and the people in the square below were immediately besieged by bats and vampires alike. You turned your head upwards and saw the vampire you had injured just minutes ago carrying you up and up and up.

She looked down at you and laughed wickedly, tightening her talons painfully as she did so. She spat and hissed at you through her fangs.

"Don't you want to fly angel?" she cackled and flapped her wings harder.

Panic shot through you; there was nothing around, nothing to ground you, and the pain that ripped through you was distracting enough to prevent you from focusing on your power.

Then you remembered the pocket knife that you had stashed away, and you strained your arms to shove your hand into your jacket to grab it.

You cried out as you flipped it open and reached up to rapidly slash at your captors ankles. An otherworldly monster, sure, but an achilles tendon was still a weak point that hurt like a bitch when sliced clean.

One talon released its hold on you, then the other, and then you were in free fall.

You briefly thought that the cushion of air, the weightlessness of it, was nice.

Freeing.

But it wasn't a long fall and the earth caught up with you quickly, and when you did impact the ground, it wasn't the ground at all; it was the hood of your car.

The already-cracked windshield fully shattered and the jagged edges of glass cut through your clothes and into your flesh. Mary Victoria screamed as all the wind was knocked out of you and it took a second for you to get it back.

"Are you fucking with me right now?" She got out of the car and yelled at you. "Wait in the car Mare! It's safe in the car! Bull! Shit! Oh god, oh god, you're bleeding!"

"I'm fine," you groaned.

You were not. You were hurt and you were pissed off.

"Fucking vampires in fucking Hawkins and no one says anything and I let my guard down for two god damn minutes," you grumbled to yourself as you slid off the hood and got back on your feet.

"Do you have a first aid kit in the trunk or something with all of that other shit?" She immediately went to the back of the car to search for something.

You did a quick assessment of yourself as you stood there; something in your leg twinged and you felt...maybe a little sloshy inside. Ok you could deal with that. But you bit your tongue on impact, and that was...probably the most annoying thing.

The icing on the cake.

"Don't worry," you insisted. "As long as everything important is still inside of me, I'll heal."

"Heal?!" She peeked out from behind the propped trunk lid. "Excuse me, what do you mean?"

"Blah blah, heavenly light, blah. Were you not paying attention to anything I said during the drive?"

"Yeah but I thought you meant other people, not yourself. How long will it take because there's still vampires flying around if you didn't notice," she gestured outwards. "They kinda need you at your best here."

"Even my worst is better than nothing." You joined her at the trunk and grabbed one of the knives.

"Not a crucifix?"

"Not gonna work unless they look directly at it for an extended time," you explained. "Which is kinda hard with them flying around. So we either stake them through the heart, or we cut it out of them."

Mary Victoria nodded and held onto her own knife a little tighter with a quick "ok I can do that, I think."

"Stay close to me," you commanded. "I'll keep you safe but...I might need you to help me keep them down while I do the dirty work."

Mary Victoria bit her lip but agreed.

You rushed back to where you had been taken—Nancy was nowhere to be found and you momentarily applauded her for listening to you and recognizing that you were a lost cause. The crossbow, thankfully, wasn't broken, but your impact with the car did break some of the remaining bolts you had in the hip quiver.

That just meant you'd have to make the last few shots count.

If you were able to hit the vampires wings like you did with the first one, you would be able to strike...you just had to get them on the ground and then—

"Ok this is dangerous and all," Mary Victoria muttered beside you, as though speaking in any tone above a whisper would alert the swarm to your presence. As if you weren't standing in a wide open space. "But this is actually really cool."

"What?" You shot her an incredulous look.

"I mean don't get me wrong, I'm...quite possibly shitting myself right now, but—"

"You have the worst timing known to man," you told her earnestly.

"I get that a lot," she nodded. "Is it always like this?"

You noticed movement behind her and pushed her behind you so you could strike; one bolt took out two demo bats.

"Pretty much."

"Do you think that Steve guy thought I was cute?"

You turned to give her the most scathing look, the words shut up Mare right on the tip of your tongue. But when you turned, she was grabbed.

One of the vampires—one with dark curls piled high on its head—did a nosedive and tackled her to the ground. The two of them skidded on the pavement and Mary Victoria squirmed desperately to get out of its grasp.

A serpentine tongue slithered out of the vampire's mouth and swept down Mary Victoria's face and neck, and she let out a blood-curdling scream that echoed over the ruins around Hawkins Town Square.

The vampire, though, countered with a hiss-like laugh, and something deep inside of you burned. It wanted to play with its food, wanted to laugh? You would give it something to laugh about.

You quickly reloaded a bolt into the crossbow and fired—any shot good enough to draw attention away from your friend and onto you—and the arrow embedded itself deep in the flesh beneath the shoulder joint of its wing. The vampire jolted from the force and thick, black blood began oozing from the wound.

It rounded its attention on you then, Mary Victoria still pinned beneath its legs, and roared ferociously. Its fangs were disstended, dripping blood and spraying spittle, as the guttural sound burst from the gaping maw. It's jaw...wasn't even unhinged, the way it hung; it was practically detached, the weight of it pulled at the weak, stretched flesh of its cheeks.

As if it could scare you with sounds and sights alone.

Pathetic.

You should have paid closer attention.

Should have used the divine sense that was natural to you to feel the approaching danger.

Should have just been a little smarter than Kas—who no doubt was gunning for you now that he knew you'd be a thorn in his side—and recognize a trap when you were in one.

Claws grasped your still-wounded shoulders and sharp teeth sunk deep into your neck. One of the hands moved to your jaw and held it with an iron grip. It tilted your head in a way that would give it easy access to its meal as it pulled mouthful after mouthful of your life-force from you.

Your vision blurred—already affected by the previous injuries and blood loss—and you knew you didn't have long before you succumbed to the effects of being drained.

You breathed heavily and fumbled with the knife that had been tucked into the hip quiver along with the half-broken crossbow bolts. You stabbed at the hand gripping your chin; the blade broke through fragile metacarpals and tore through the other side, through its palm, and grazed your chin.

The vampire released its grip on you and its teeth retracted from your neck as it howled in pain. You took advantage of the release to spin and drive one of the splintered bolts deep into its chest, right into its heart.

You watched with sick, victorious fascination, at the way the mottled, paper-like skin gave way with the force of your strike. The muscle and sinew tore and as the wood pierced the most-vital organ, it burst in the most satisfying way. A gush of blood, both pitch black and vibrant red, sticky grey mucus, and sickly green bile.

You'd never heard of a vampire doing that before when it was staked.

As the vampire's body crumpled and folded in on itself and collapsed at your feet, the air began to ripple with cries. Infernal, unholy screeching reverberated around you as the vampires and bats alike felt the death of their brethren. The vampire that had attacked Mary Victoria practically howled.

The overwhelming beat of wings began to sound off and you watched as the swarm regrouped over the square. The residents of Hawkins—both the ones who had been defending against the swarm and the ones who had gone into hiding—began to filter back out into the open and your heart was in your throat.

Because if this was their opportunity for the creatures of the Upside Down to avenge their friend, it would be a massacre.

You mentally prepared yourself for the attack, body weak but still able to channel any available power into some kind of defensive wave that could burn through them all if necessary.

Instead they dove in a funnel formation, straight for the Gate.

You felt the pulse of otherworldly energy that was released into Hawkins as they ripped through the membrane that separated the two worlds, and you were blindsided by a sense of longing that surged through it.

Yearning...desire...hunger.

You were confused; it was so strong. Overwhelming, even.

Was that Kas?

Or the Upside Down itself?

As soon as the last bat crossed over and the membrane sealed, the feeling was gone, and the only thing you felt was a bone-deep weariness and the pain that coursed through you.

You finally succumbed to the effects of your injuries and sank to your knees weakly. You had no choice but to stare deeply into the blank eyes of the vampire.

Mary Victoria called your name and got louder and louder until she was at your side. Her hand grasped the bite on your neck and held it steady to stop the bleeding. Dustin appeared on your other side and asked if you were ok or if the bite would turn you into a vampire...

"You're the only one who's been bitten and lived."

Except...you truly wondered if this even was a vampire.

The body was both...bloated and emaciated all at once, limbs bulging and elongated with skin that pulled and stretched over fragile tissue and bones. Its ribcage practically protruded outwards, like it had been pried open at some point and then the skin knitted itself shut atop it.

The hair was the only vibrant—the most alive—thing about the creature. Short red curls that had been tousled in the wind.

Aside from the strength while it was still...alive, if you could call it that, and the thirst for blood...you didn't know for sure that you could call this thing a vampire. It wasn't like anything you'd read or heard about from the other Knights.

It wasn't quite like the other two vampires though either.

"What is it then?" you asked yourself out loud.

Mary Victoria shushed you and told you to keep your strength, but you could already feel yourself healing.

Other voices began to overlap hers though.

"She killed one!"

"He'll send them in droves now that one of his brides is dead."

"At least we stood a chance before."

"Enough!" Nancy shouted and the group went silent. "That's enough!"

"I don't understand, isn't killing one of them a good thing?" Mary Victoria questioned.

"Uh, you'd think so," Steve piped up. "But...no one's killed one of the Brides before."

"It's not one of the Brides," Nancy yelled at him and crouched in front of you, on the other side of the body. She looked at it with soft, sad, practically heartbroken eyes. "It's Barb."

“If you've been through hell on earth. You would understand that the people you see are more dangerous than the devil you haven't met.” - Ojingiri Hannah

Next Chapter: Crucible

#Eddie munson fic #Eddie munson x oc #aasb #tw: death #tw: injury #tw: violence #tw: grief #tw: gore

[misslavenderlady]

Lost Boys - TransFem Au

Part 2: Growing up in Phoenix

Ladies and gentlemen, her 💕

Mikayla Emerson

Here's a bit of backstory for our lovely lady~

part 1 HERE , part 3 HERE

Back in Phoenix:

Growing up, Mikayla always felt awkward being around the boys in her class. They were so rude and gross in her eyes, and found herself glancing over to the girls groups. She worked up some courage to join them, enjoying their company far more. It just felt right, and it was the starting point of her journey.

As a child, she loved to watch her mom do her hair and makeup every morning. It was a great bonding time, as Lucy provided life advice and stories for her. Mikayla truly looked up to her mom and wanted to be like her one day.

When Sam came into the picture, Mikayla used him as a stand-in for her desires to be "pretty". She would put clips in his hair, dress him up in costume jewelry and use some tools from Lucy's makeup bag. She was too nervous about trying it all for herself, but cute little baby Sam would go along with it.

Now, her father was not having this. He was a workaholic who expected his wife to set his sons straight and stop all the "girlie shit" when he wasn't there. Lucy would not do such a thing, opting to help her children be happy. Whenever Lance was home he would say very hurtful and homophobic things to Mikayla. Tell her she better start acting like a "man" or he'd make her sorry. It scared her beyond belief.

We all know Lucy, aka best mom ever, was apart of the hippie movement back in the day. When her eldest child confided in her one day about being a girl, Lucy had all the love and support in the world. She never wanted her daughter to feel like she had to be anyone other than herself.

Mikayla's transition began in middle school. She begged her mother to help her be who she wanted to be. It wasn't easy, especially given the decade. Back in that day, Mikayla's identity was referred to as "transsexual". Lucy went searching through dozens of doctors office, trying to find one that would be willing to help. When she did, both of them were incredibly relieved.

Lucy enrolled Mikayla into a new school, doing all she could to help her daughter get the fresh start she wanted. Mikayla was so grateful to have girl friends and be herself. She still had to be careful, opting to go into the bathrooms to change for gym class and taking self-defense classes after school in case any bullies tried to hurt her (Lucy lied to Lance and said it was boxing).

When Mikayla got to high school, she joined the cheerleading team. She was incredibly athletic, and enjoyed having such sweet teammates to call her friends. Though the other cheerleaders were all bubbly and outgoing, Mikayla was still a little shy and reserved. She didn't like drawing too much attention to herself.

This went on for a few years until all hell broke loose at home. Lance had been in another fight with Lucy over Mikayla's identity, and had announced he was going to send her to military school to "force the sissy out". Lucy had finally had enough. She filed for divorce, packed up everything, and moved her children all the way to California. Before she left, she told Lance "I hope every day you're away from your little girl you feel every single bit of shame you deserve." That was the last time Mikayla and Sam saw their father. He wouldn't be missed.

#transfem Michael Emerson #the lost boys #michael emerson #mikayla emerson #lavender lady rambles #tlb au

[tloujm]

Headcanon IV: Non-apocalyptic AU

Author’s Notes: I truly can go on and on with this scenario. Let me know if you want a pt. 2! Ended it at the day after Joel’s bday so it could be definitively in a universe where the fungus infection does not happen. Other than that, my usual disclaimer on these headcanons being in a shared universe do not apply here because this is an AU! I love a good AU because sometimes I love a character but not the settings or their circumstances. That make sense? Either way, hope you enjoy!

Joel meets you when Sarah is in Kindergarten 

You become his neighbor by living in the same apartment building

Joel made Tommy take out the trash and while he was outside, spotted you moving out of a U-Haul by yourself

He was the first to introduce himself to you 

Because Sarah was at school and Joel was off, Tommy ran back inside to recruit an extra pair of hands

Tommy had immediate plans to set the two of you up since Joel hasn’t dated since Sarah’s mom left

Joel wasn’t in the mood to help anyone move, but he also wanted an excuse to put his business textbook down

He quickly liked that you weren’t annoying like his brother

Joel has lived at that complex for a few years and never really spoke to his neighbors

He didn’t feel the need to

He kept to his life, which as a single dad with a blue collar job took all of his time, and let his neighbors keep to theirs

He would say hi and bye to you in passing at first

You would go over to borrow tools

He would offer to fix whatever you needed the tools for

Caved and bought a puppy since it was the only thing on his daughter’s Christmas list

Joel begins to vent to you about his unit being messy from the dog’s high energy and him not being potty trained

You offer to walk the dog and help train him when no one is home to

After several months, you become his closest neighbor

One day, Joel’s boss calls for him to come on site last minute for a construction emergency super early in the morning

Tommy was out of town for another construction job

He was the only person that he trusted to babysit Sarah after moving away from their parents

He never had a reason to distrust you since giving you a spare key to his place for the dog

You got through life so far never having babysat, but you saw the bags under Joel’s apologetic eyes after you opened the door

You couldn’t say no to him or Sarah

That morning, you made her breakfast and took her to school

Joel would try to not push Sarah on you when his job was being extra demanding, but every so often, he would ask and you would always oblige

After another several months, you were practically apart of the family

Tommy would keep pestering Joel to ask you out 

Joel came home from work one day to relieve you

When he walked in the kitchen, he found you and Sarah making dinner together

At that moment, Joel decided to finally muster up the courage and shoot his shot

You made Joel a happy, happy man when you agreed to date

Sarah was also happy because she got to spend her free time running up and down the stairs of the complex to play in both your and his units

Joel knew that if he came home and she wasn’t there, she was safe with you

He would take a moment to decompress from his day and freshen up before skipping up the stairs to greet the two of you

Once your lease ends, you move in with them

Quickly decide that a two bedroom for 3 people and a dog is too cramped

Together, the two of you buy a nice two-story house

It was not too old, but old enough where it needed some fixing up before moving in

It was a family affair where Tommy and Joel did most of the work because of their skill set

And you kept Sarah out of their way and out of danger during the day while you helped Joel relax from all of the home and work construction that wore down his body at night

Despite their being a source of income from you too, Joel felt the pressure of now having a mortgage

Joel’s job didn’t seem worth it anymore as his boss became more demanding with no pay raise to match

You encouraged him to revisit the goal of creating his own construction business

You would stop at the library on the way home and get him some books to read on start-ups and upskilling

You eventually convince him to leave that boss and take a PT job at a hardware store so he could go to night school 

Joel has no problem with you being the major bread winner, but he does sulk from time to time but tries his best to hide it about not feeling like the best father and boyfriend at the moment

Tommy helps him pay for a ring

Its nothing flashy, but he knows you’ll love it

After 4 years together, Sarah starts to consider you her other parent and calls you "mom”

It starts with her going to Joel right before Mother’s Day and asking him what he thought about it, worrying that you would reject the title and not see her as a daughter

Joel felt blessed to have you help raise his daughter and his heart melted when Sarah wanted to do something for you on that day

He pushes away her worries and helps her execute an entire day dedicated to you and being a family

In turn, Sarah helps Joel propose

The two of you decide to elope in favor of a big family vacation as the honeymoon

Tommy comes to chaperone Sarah while the two of you have alone time

You officially adopt Sarah 

A picture of the two of you holding up the signed adoption papers hangs on one of the walls

As soon as the honeymoon is over, she starts BEGGING for a sibling

She was the only one in her small-town elementary school to not have a mom or siblings 

She happily completed one goal and quickly moved onto the next

It took a year, but she got her wish

She wanted a brother, but got a sister

Joel was destined to be a girl dad

Middle name is Eleanor 

Tommy breaks up with his girlfriend, leading him to move in with his brother and his family

He becomes a built-in manny 

Walking the dog and/or the stroller quickly gets him back into the dating game

Sarah finds all of the women that he is talking to intriguing and helps him find a new girlfriend

Joel and Tommy go in on the construction business together 

“Miller Bros. Construction”

Between the still energetic dog, the new business and a baby, Joel was noticeably adding some salt to the pepper on his head

Hair everywhere else was still dark brown

In two more years, Sarah surprises Joel by buying him a new watch for his birthday

You help her buy it, but ever the jokester, she claims that she earned the money herself by selling hard core drugs

The five of you all go out to eat for dinner

Joel wears a clean, black cotton button down tucked into dark blue jeans

All of you have cake back at the house

Sarah puts enough candles to match his age on the cake and calls him an old man inside his birthday card

You fall asleep in your bed after putting the baby down

Tommy snuck off in the middle of a movie that Joel and Sarah fell asleep on in the living room

Waking up to paid programs, Joel turned everything off and carried Sarah to bed

Everyone decided to turn his birthday into a long weekend trip

Joel didn’t want that much attention on him, but obliged when he saw his girls’ puppy eyes

Tommy Showed up at their house late the next morning

“C’mon now! We gotta hit the road ‘fore we run into this lunchtime traffic.” Tommy said as he walked into their house to start loading bags

Everyone agreed to take a road trip from Austin to a water park in Houston to beat the last bits of the Texas summer heat 

#TLOU #TLOU II #TLOU 2 #The Last of Us 2 #the last of us #Joel Miller #the last of us joel #the last of us fanfic #the last of us headcanon #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller headcanon #joel miller x reader #Joel Miller x Fem!Reader #Modern AU #Modern AU headcanon #TLOU Modern AU #Joel Miller Modern AU #Alternate Universe

[voraciousvore]

Big Corp Inc. (1/43)

Basic Plot: Candy Caramello is desperate to get a job. So desperate, in fact, that she accepts a job at Big Corp Inc. working with Giants who are hundreds of feet tall. She'll have to contend with a licentious boss, an office bully, being eaten alive, and all sorts of other hazards inherent to being a tiny human in a Giant world.

Total Word Count: 96,645

Content Warning: This story is intended for mature audiences. It contains several vore scenes and explicit sexual content (both sweet romantic intimacy and non-consensual). Warnings will be posted at the beginning of chapters as needed.

(As an aside, I welcome any comments/ feedback/ criticism you may have, so don't be shy if you have something to say! :))

Chapter 1: Call to Adventure

Candy Caramello urgently needed a job. She was getting desperate. One more missing rent payment, and she’d probably be evicted and living out on the street. Her landlord was an understanding guy, but she hadn’t paid any rent in months, and she was running out of money. 

Unfortunately, Candy didn’t have any marketable skills. She wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed either. She had dropped out of high school and toiled in low-wage retail jobs for most of her working life. Candy was cute and sweet, as her name suggested, but also incompetent and clumsy. Somehow, she managed to get herself fired from every job she worked at. Her last job was at a restaurant. In the few months she worked there, she managed to mix together the bags of salt and sugar, spilled drinks and food on several customers, and broke enough plates and glasses to make a full dining set. The manager liked her for her bubbly personality, but eventually got fed up with her costly mistakes and had to let her go. 

The story was similar at her other jobs too. For a short time, she had worked at a warehouse where she had to pick orders, pack them up in boxes, and sort them. She could never get the orders right. She’d always forget an item, or put an extra item in, or count the wrong number, or confuse the invoices. She’d make a mess out of the packing materials, tear up the boxes, and get her long blonde hair caught in the packing tape. A plethora of customer complaints regarding incorrect orders and hair everywhere led to termination of her employment. 

Needless to say, the more jobs she got fired from, the less anyone wanted to hire her. The situation had deteriorated to the point where she was notorious, blackballed from several industries in her city. Her references all warned against hiring her to new potential employers. Candy was in trouble. 

She did have one option left, but she was very hesitant to pursue it. See, Candy lived on the small side of the city, with all the other humans like her. Her city was split into two sections, the small side and the large side, which were kept strictly separate for safety reasons. The large side of the city housed the Giants, a race of people who were just like humans except hundreds of feet tall. Like most humans, Candy was scared of Giants. She had never met one personally, since she avoided crossing the barrier to the large side of the city, but in the instances where she was close by she had felt the tremors of their tremendous footsteps in the ground and seen their towering silhouettes from afar.  

Of course, the TV programs and the government propaganda flyers posted all over town proclaimed that Giants were perfectly safe to humans, and the two species could effortlessly live together in harmony. The human and Giant governments had been slowly working towards integration for years, despite the resistance of the majority of the human constituents involved. The Giant parliament had appropriated millions upon millions of Big Bucks (BB), the Giant currency, to building infrastructure suitable for humans in the large sector. Despite the sizable investment, few if any humans were brave or stupid enough to venture forth to the large side. Oftentimes, those who left were never seen or heard from again. 

This incontrovertible fact was a great embarrassment to the Giant government that had invested so much money into a failed project. Therefore, they decided to pass an affirmative action plan to encourage Giant businesses to hire human workers, in order to lure humans over to the large side of the city. This program was relatively new, and would grant substantial subsidies to private businesses to upgrade their offices to accommodate and employ humans. While businesses were more than happy to receive easy money from the government and spare the bare minimum expense to “upgrade,” finding humans willing to work with Giants was harder. 

In their glossy advertisement campaigns, painting rosy pictures of humans and Giants happily working together, these businesses targeted naïve, impressionable humans that were desperate for work—humans like Candy. Despite her reservations, Candy was easy prey. The idea of working with Giants made her exceedingly nervous, but after filling out hundreds of job applications with no response, she decided to shoot her shot and apply—after all, she had nothing to lose. She wasn’t familiar with too many Giant businesses, but she saw a promotional campaign from an establishment called Big Corp Inc. and decided to send in her resume. 

To her surprise, her phone rang within minutes. She jumped on it and answered, “H-hello?” 

“Is this Candy Caramello?” a deep, rich voice on the other end of the line asked.  

Candy’s breath hitched in her throat. She could tell that huge, full voice belonged to a Giant, and it was very intimidating. “Y-yes, sir.” 

“Hello there, my name is Richard Hardon. I’m a manager over at Big Corp Inc. and I see you’re a human that just applied to work here. I have a few preliminary screening questions for you,” the Giant stated in a professional tone. 

“O-okay,” Candy stammered. 

“First question: How old are you?” 

“Um... 23.” 

“Okay, that’s acceptable. Second question: What’s your height and weight?” 

“I’m 5’5” and 130 pounds.” Candy had never heard of anyone asking for this information on a job questionnaire, but she figured there must be a reason. Maybe Giants had different workplace practices. 

“Ah, so you’re a cute little thing! Excellent! Third question: What’s your bra size?” 

Candy was baffled by this question, but not wanting to jeopardize her chances obediently answered, “I’m a D cup, but why do you need to know?” 

“Oh! Just for the work uniform, of course,” the Giant explained smoothly. “You sound like a good fit for our work culture. When can you come in for an interview?” 

Candy found his questions off-putting, to say the least, but she reminded herself that she needed this job badly. “I can come in today, if you’d like!” 

“Perfect! How does 3 pm sound?” 

“I’ll be there,” Candy confirmed with a gulp. 

“Okay then. You can find me on the third floor, in my private office. I look forward to meeting you, sweetheart,” the Giant affirmed, then hung up. Candy stared at the phone in her sweaty hand. She had some serious misgivings, but she felt cornered. She looked at the clock and realized she had no idea where this place was located, how long it would take for her to get there, or really even how to navigate the land beyond the barrier. She was overwhelmed and unprepared. 

She made the choice to leave as soon as possible, so she could feasibly arrive early and without incident. She had some used clothes she bought from a thrift store that she hoped would be appropriate for an interview for an office job. She put on dark slacks and a crisp gray button-down shirt with a collar. The clothes were a little baggy and wrinkly, but she figured they were acceptable. She couldn’t find a pair of nice shoes in her size that was within her budget, so she was forced to wear her ratty old tennis shoes instead. She prayed nobody would notice. 

She left her apartment, paper resume in hand, and stepped out into the early afternoon sun. The day was pleasantly warm, with a slight breeze and not a single cloud marring the pure blue of the sky. Candy was feeling optimistic. Maybe her luck was finally starting to change. She lived within walking distance of the barrier, since few people wanted to live within the vicinity of the Giants and housing was cheaper. Soon enough, she made it to the railway station. She had a bus card that was accepted for the high-speed rails as well, so she didn’t have to pay a fare. After looking up the location of Big Corp Inc.’s office building, and determining the correct route, she waited for the railcar. 

Nervous energy started to creep over her. The station, despite being new and modern, was devoid of other passengers. She was the only one waiting on the platform. The automated car pulled up and the doors slid open with a soft whoosh. After hesitating, Candy stepped inside. She was feeling too anxious to sit so she stood up and grabbed the built-in handrail for support. The inside of the car was suspiciously shiny and immaculate, as if nobody had ever ridden in it before. The car had large windows in the sides and ceilings that were spotless, free of any fingerprints or scratches. 

The doors whooshed closed and the car sped off with shocking speed. Candy hung on tight as the railcar shot underground, beneath the barrier, before reemerging on the opposite side, the side of the Giants. Candy’s palms were slick with moisture as she glued herself to the window with astonishment. The railcar was rocketing through a tunnel of clear glass, which protected the rails from being stepped on by Giants, since the railcars traveled alongside the sidewalk at ground level. The rail moved slightly underground when it crossed the roads, the glass becoming flat on top so cars could pass over. 

Candy couldn’t believe the staggering scale of the buildings, roads, streetlights, cars—all the expected trappings of civilization, really, except the foliage, which was normal-sized. Tall trees looked like tiny shrubs next to monumental concrete walls. And the Giants themselves! Candy had never seen a Giant up close, and even though she was safely tucked away inside a fast-moving railcar, she was terrified. The car moved too fast for her to get a good look, but she could see their shoes alone were larger than the entire car she was traveling in. She felt like she was going to faint. She must have made a terrible mistake, coming here—but it was too late. She couldn’t get away now. 

Far ahead, Candy spotted the Big Corp Inc. building looming on the horizon. It was a massive, gloomy, gray structure that stretched into the sky, truly one of the great wonders of the corporate world. The company’s name and logo were emblazoned on the building with immense steel letters that glistened in the sun. Her little railcar barreled towards it all too quickly. She was scared. She didn’t know how she would be able to work on this side of the city, or even get around, with everything being so gigantic. 

Her stop was fairly close to the Big Corp building, so at least by Giant standards she wouldn’t have far to go. However, the distance was still quite vast for a human. The railcar slowed to a stop, and the doors quietly opened. Candy hesitantly stepped out onto the platform, which had a cover over it to protect from the elements. The awning at least made her feel somewhat hidden from the Giants clomping around outside. She just wanted to curl up and hide as the pavement vibrated beneath her feet with the great weight of every Giant step. She imagined being crushed underfoot and shuddered. 

There were some marked human pathways with fencing on both sides to protect pedestrians from being smashed. Giants could easily step over the human-sized gates, so they didn’t block the enormous sidewalks at all. Even so, Candy was frightened to emerge from her shelter. The Giants themselves were larger than she ever imagined in her wildest dreams. Even if she craned her neck all the way back, she could barely see their faces so high up in the sky. 

Candy couldn’t bring herself to move. She was frozen in place. She instinctively wanted to run, but there was nowhere to go. The railcar had vanished; she would have to wait for the next one if she desired to go back. While she was tempted to flee, she was again reminded that she had no more options. This was her last chance to get a job. If she failed here, she’d become homeless. She exhaled slowly. Her whole body was shaking in terror. She checked her watch. She didn’t have much time left before her interview, especially considering the distance she would have to walk to get there. It was now or never. She took a deep breath and stepped forward into the sun. 

Next chapter

Table of Contents:

Ch. 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43

Writing Masterpost

#g/t writing #g/t #giant/tiny #giant #tiny #size difference #g/t fluff #giant tiny #g/t vore #v0re #v.ore #big corp inc #v0r3 #g/t art #vo.re #soft vore #size k1nk #size k!nk #v/ore #giant men #gt vore #gt fluff #gt art #g/t community #gt community #gt story #g/t story #vore writing #macro vore #vore story

[twoidiotwriters1]

The Curse of Oenone (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: Something about Nico, he will always choose violence (when it comes to Ara) -Danny Words: 2,204 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Listen to: 'Sign of the Times' -by Harry Styles

XXXII: *Sobbing* I'm Fine!

Leo is waiting for them at the top of the gangplank, he grins and waves at the group, then his eyes focus on Frank and her. The moment she reaches his side and Leo has to look up to meet her gaze, he flushes to a cherry tone Ara has never seen on his face.

He speaks in a strangled voice. "Ares?"

"Mars. I don't know, I doubt it matters," Ara says, self-conscious about their height difference. "How does it look?"

"You could crash my skull with your thighs," he blurts out.

Hazel gasps, fanning her face scandalized at his comment. "Gods, I hate you," Nico groans, guiding his flustered sister away from them.

Ara hurries past Leo and goes to her cabin to check her reflection, her breath hitches at the sight: she looks exactly like Arachne's tapestry minus the cape and hair. Yesterday she had baby fat around her face, her abs were a soft belly, and now she looks like a high school senior who never misses a workout. Arms toned and longer legs—she barely fits in the mirror, since it was designed for a girl that was 5'3.

"Holy crap," she breathes. Someone knocks on her door, and she finds Nico standing there, waiting to be let in. "I'm tall," she states in shock.

"Congrats. What was the fight about? The one you had with Lily?"

Ara knows this will bring an argument, but if it doesn't happen today, it'll happen at an even worse time. "I told her we couldn't trust you."

Nico visibly tenses. "I'm not surprised."

Ara turns to face him properly. "I had a good reason, you know what I'm talking about."

Nico's eyes darken. "My dad forbade me to talk about it. One of your patrons—your main patron, or did you forget?"

"How can I? Ever since that day, I've been the babysitter of his little prince."

"I told you I wanted no part of your stupid camp, but it was you who promised—"

"You needed a place to live—"

"You expected everyone to act like I don't creep them out."

"Oh, cry me a river," Ara walks past him. "I've got more important things to do than to listen to the same complaints on repeat."

"Crap!" Ara struggles with the damaged oar, she hisses when it scratches her palm. "Leo, I forgot my gloves, can you toss them over?"

Leo seizes her Octopi bag and rummages through its contents. "You didn't grab them? That's basic gear, Ara."

"I don't do basic," she responds.

Leo looks over the railing. "Say what?"

"It's like maths," Ara squints when she looks up. "Unnecessary."

The boy holds onto the handrail as he leans in dramatically. "You think is what?"

"Oh no..." She mumbles and tilts her head. "My scolding senses are tingling..."

Leo scowls. "Get your ass back here—and be careful."

He doesn't reprimand her like, ever, not even tries to, but his job is the one thing he takes seriously, so Ara climbs back on deck and dusts off her hands expecting the berating of the week. 

Leo spots the scrape on her hand and searches for his tool belt. "You almost lost an arm last December and you think being careful is unnecessary?"

"Oh, that was different," Ara watches Leo heal her. "Silly things—"

"Silly?" Leo looks up and his eye twitches. "Fixing the oars and giving Festus an upgrade ain't like changing the batteries of a TV remote, sweetheart. And maths? You need maths!"

She laughs nervously. "You okay?"

"Arae Jackson, that's negligence!" He exclaims. "Is this why they call you Dr Frankenstein back in camp?"

"Oh, you know about that?" She asks unbothered.

"That's it, you're not allowed to work on the repairs."

Her mouth opens in shock. "Leo, you know I'm a good repairperson, don't do this!"

"You heard me," he tries to take the harness off her, muttering grumpily. "Don't do maths, seriously..."

"Hey! Stand back!" Ara keeps him away. Leo is smaller than her now and he was never strong to begin with. "I'll finish the task whether I'm wearing the harness or not!"

"You're not helping yourself!" Nico speaks out of nowhere, both teens looking up to see him at the top mast.

"Stay out of this!" Ara seizes Leo's wrist. "Stop!"

It's kind of cute, seeing him angry over this. Reminds her of Mike a bit, which makes her feel kind of guilty. "Promise you'll be careful in the right way, not yours!"

Ara rolls her eyes. "Can I have my gloves, then?"

"Put them on before you go back," Leo crosses his arms. "I don't understand why Beckendorf made you Cabin Nine's right-hand girl if you ignore safety procedures."

"Beck had the knowledge, I had the spirit," she puts the gloves on with an amused expression. "Anyway... I need insulation stuff—the spongy one? And Industrial glue, and the..." She makes a gesture as if holding something and puffs some air out of her lips. "To fuse the bronze to the hull..."

"Insulation foam, industrial glue, metal welding kit—and bronze-welding rods to reattach the frame to the hull," the boy turns to get the goods.

Ara beams. "And welding goggles."

"'Course," Leo grabs stuff from his toolbox, the rest are from his magic belt. Ara stands there waiting. "Anything else?"

"Your hand in marriage?"

"Dang it, woman! You can't make me forget how irresponsible you are by love-bombing me!" Leo exclaims, handing the tools to her.

Ara puts the goggles on. "Seriously, Cabin Nine kids can tell what I'm talking about after a few tries, but you don't even think about it, that's awesome."

Leo looks away to hide his blush. "Your brain works similarly to mine, that's all. It's why we're attracted to each other in the first place."

It's nice to hear that's what Leo thinks about their situation. "We're soulmates." She says it so matter-of-factly that it makes Leo light up as much as the sun. Ara clears her throat and steps back. "Well, I'm going..."

"Yeah," Leo mumbles, a little smile playing on his face. "I'll be watching, my soon-to-be fiancé."

Above them, Nico groans again, but they both ignore him.

Leo has long forgotten he's supposed to be checking Ara's work while installing Festus's upgrade. Instead, he's just eyeing her, trying not to be obvious, but doing a terrible job.

He can't even hate the fact that she's taller than him by a lot. She's the only demigod that looks god-like in his eyes, Ara's beauty grows with every blessing, no smudge of dirt she gets from her hard work can take it away. When she moves, her body gets framed by the dying sunlight in a way that makes Leo lightheaded.

She's wearing the hair tie he made for her, holding her shiny brown locks in a loose braid, and the way she scrunches up her nose in concentration, the tip of her tongue poking out... The more he looks, the more his heart races. 

She was once out of his league, now she's out of everyone's orbit. She's skillful and experienced, and Leo has a hard time understanding why she would love someone as inconsequential as him.

"You should be careful."

Nico's voice comes to remind him not everything is perfect. Leo jumps out of his skin and swears in Spanish, he glares at the tall boy standing behind him. "Dude, can you not do that?"

Nico doesn't apologize before adding to his comment. "Ara's fool's gold."

Leo frowns. "What?"

Nico glances at the girl, he's angry at her for trying to convince Lily, his only friend, to stop trusting him. Two can play the same game. "She looks good, then you get closer and realize it's all pretend. You call her a doll, right?" He laughs shortly. "That's accurate. Ara likes playing with boys like you."

Leo's fists start to smoke. "Don't you mean boys like us?"

Nico's taken by surprise, a creepy smile forms on his face when he understands what Leo is insinuating. He won't clear up the misunderstanding, Leo has the same arrogant air Ara has when challenged, and is always far more entertaining to watch those kinds of people trip over their feet.

Nico steps closer. "I can get under her skin like no one else. Have you ever asked her why she loathes having me around? You should. She doesn't like to be questioned, so you'll get to see the real Arae."

"She's the General," Leo replies tensely. "You're not supposed to question her, smartass."

Nico's smirk grows. "I see why she likes you." The boy turns to leave. "Ask her."

"I know why she hates you," Leo says confidently, which causes Nico to laugh again.

"No, you don't," he reaches the stairs. "Ask her about the curse."

Ara takes a look at the finished product. "Good as new, right?"

Festus blows out steam and Ara recoils, feeling the air around her get hotter when he does that. She takes off the goggles and dries the sweat off her brow. 

"I'll take that as a yes."

The moon is high above but very thin, so Ara has a bit of trouble finding her way back to the deck, she doesn't notice Leo until she's right under the handrail. The boy's watching in silence with a scowl on his face. 

She jumps over the railing landing on both feet, then dusts off her hands, and nods at Leo. "Hey."

He walks over to the control board. "Hey."

"I'm done," she announces proudly. "I was very safe the whole time."

"Good job," he checks the monitor. "Festus's stable, so are the oars." 

Leo looks at her doing a quick scan. Ara is covered in sweat and grime, her cheeks are flushed... he can't think of any girl who would look better than she does like this, but Nico succeeded in his attempt to plant a seed of doubt, and Leo can't shake off the feeling that Ara has been lying to him about something.

Besides, he once overheard Percy and Ara talking, and her brother mentioned an old crush she used to have on Nico... Leo panicked and sneaked back to his cabin after hearing that, but the words stuck in his brain and he couldn't take them out.

Ara sighs. "I promise to be careful from now on, I'll use a calculator and everything..."

Leo's seen the way she looks at him lately, like it hurts to be near him. At first, he thought it was guilt because she'd decided to leave her camp, but now... What if the love's fading out between them?

"I..." he starts quietly, swallowing the lump in his throat. "How do you feel?"

"Great!" She smiles. "I'd missed it, getting my hands dirty reminded me of home, it made me feel useful."

"You're always useful," he replies. "But you definitely have a natural aptitude for mechanics."

"I was fated to," Ara replies casually. "Thank you for letting me do this."

"You don't have to thank me. You're the General."

"Yeah, well..." she continues, now trying to ignore his weird vibes. "I'll go take a shower before dinner."

Leo blurts out the first thought in his mind. "I didn't know someone could make me this stupid."

Leo would rather jump into Tartarus than tinker with something that doesn't need fixing... but what if it does? Sometimes a machine doesn't look broken, but it malfunctions anyway. He can't deny that their relationship feels... unbalanced. A creation jumpstarted without all the necessary precautions, and there's a buzzing coming from it that Leo can't identify, but it's making his skin crawl.

Ara is unsure of where this is going. "What's wrong?"

He can't think when her eyes are on him like this, he has this urge to make her smile, and he doesn't know where that comes from. Sure, he loves making people laugh, but with Ara... it almost feels like an obligation.

He struggles to form a proper sentence. "I think you're lying to me."

Ara pales, which is not a good sign. "What?"

"You wanted to jump off the cliff," he continues. "And you tried to leave us when Reyna cornered us at the Fort—"

"Leo—"

"Let me finish," he presses anxiously. "You weren't surprised when Nemesis gave you that weird warning, and you've been acting even weirder since we rescued di Angelo—"

"I—"

"Don't lie to me," he demands. "Your prophecy mentions a curse—The curse of love. Does that mean—"

"This is Nico talking," Ara's eyes darken. "I thought he was ending his shift, but he came to taunt you, didn't he?"

Leo feels like throwing up, but more than that, he feels insulted. "So what if he did?"

"He wants us to get into an argument," Ara steps forward. "Don't let him do this!"

Leo steps back. "Then answer my question."

Unexpectedly, her eyes brim with tears. "I can't."

Some part of him that he's not even aware of triggers, Leo is too distraught to think, his heart is breaking. "You said promises were important to you, but you're not keeping yours."

"There are things that I need to keep under control," she speaks with a trembling voice.

"What things?" He asks bitterly. "Me?"

"Don't say that!" She squeezes the gloves in her hands. "We've failed too many times, Leo. I can't risk it. As your General, I'm telling you to stay out of it."

Leo doesn't like how she says that, her voice weighs like it carries centuries of painful memories, and it sounds like Ara thinks Leo will ruin her plans, and that stings.

"Chiron was right," he says aghast. "Your ambition blinds you. No matter what the outcome is, it's never enough, is it?"

Ara can't stand another second of that conversation, so she abandons it, and Leo doesn't stop her.

Next Chapter –>

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @asnyox-the-hoarder @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris @obxstiles @ellipsisspelled @thepixiechicksh

#pjo fanfic #twoidiots writing #leo valdez fanfic #doo #leo valdez x oc #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

Hi my name is Maximillian Nonus Smythe Acanthos and I have a long family history of important mages (that’s how I got my name) with Masters and politicians that reaches back eight generations and quick brown eyes like searchlights of knowledge and a lot of people tell me I look like a stretched-out mannequin (AN: If u don’t know what that is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to Alania Miratova but I wish I was because she is a major fucking inspiration. I’m a legacy mage but my friends are diverse and loved. I have pale white skin. I’m also a mage, and I go to a magic school called Skolala Refujeyo in Pakistan where I’m of Apprentice rank (I’m sixteen). I’m a scientist, in case you couldn’t tell, and I wear mostly orange. I love my family’s high-class tailoring services and I get most of my clothes from there. For example, today I was wearing a long orange day robe tailored perfectly to my body, sensible day shoes and a small hip bag to carry my fetish and various magical tools. I was wearing a pair of high-end reading glasses and my goatee was perfectly waxed. I was walking in the vast, mazelike tunnel network of the school. It was cramped and chilly and there was no sun, which I was happy about. A lot of legacy mages from rival families stared at me. I put my middle finger up at them.

#word crimes

[kitkat-artcorner]

Arstotzka's Saint ♡

Christmas is a very cheerful holiday in the world, even the dystopian wasteland like Arstotzka needs to get festive when they can afford it.

While some citizens may love it for the cheap deals or free stuff. A small, bright ray of sunshine loves giving gifts more than anything during this winter season!

It was after work hours and Alexie had gotten his recent paperwork done faster than usual. He was just about to head back home when he was approached by his two co-worker's, Dimitri and Vonel.

"Hey, Alexie!" Dimitri called. "Do you want to join me and Vonel for dinner? I found this new place near Altan."

Alexie politely declined while he got on his boots. "Sorry, I can't. I got lots of work to do this week!" He smiled as he thought about his projects back home. Vonel then inquired; "What do you mean? You've been on track with work and, last I heard, you called off some of the border shifts this week."

Alexie answered with a smile. "Not that work, Von. I mean prepping things for the holidays! It's almost Christmas and I need to pick up the pace!"

"Ah, I see. Well, we wish you luck on whatever you're working on." Vonel replied. Alexie waved them goodbye as he ran back home. when he got back, Alexie dressed into his casual clothes but with a change of a leather apron and woodworking gloves. "Alright. I just got Inspector's family gifts, then I can get to wrapping!" He looked over at his paint-encrusted desk, which at the moment was occupied by his tool box and a pile of various wooden objects. His current work was a little wooden car, a gift for the inspector's son (who Alexie thought of as his own nephew.)

Alexie sat at the desk and began sanding down the car's wheels. he was careful to make them extra smooth so the kid wouldn't get splinters. When he was done with that it was onto painting. "Now, what color did he like again?" Alexie muttered to himself as he opened his drawer and brought out a notepad. He flipped the pages to a small list that contained bits of information about his friend's recent interests. he then spot the things he wrote down for Inspector's son, he liked toy cars, drawing, and the color blue.

"Ah, Perfect!" He beamed, putting his notepad back down and got a small paint bucket from his closet. Alexie was great at a lot of art forms but what he excelled in the most was painting. He's been working with such things since he was in high school and has always been sharpening his skills whenever he could. As he began to paint the toy, he couldn't help but grin, thinking about how happy the kid was going to be once he got this gift.

It was now Christmas Day, early in the morning and Alexie was especially excited. he had gotten all the gifts for his friends done the day before, each decorated beautifully and different so he wouldn't mix up any of them! Alexie got all of them into a red bag as he dressed up, ready to go spread some Christmas cheer!

First up were his two youthful friends, Elisa and Sergiu! Alexie knocked on their front door and awaited for an answer. when Elisa greeted him, she was surprised when he handed her two gifts for her and her lover. Elisa had gotten a cast-iron pan along with a set of handmade spatulas and ladles, Alexie choose this since she was getting into cooking lately. Sergiu was gifted a scarf and some gloves, both handmade by Alexie himself. it also came with a note that said; "Since I've always seen you cold during work, I wanted to help you bundle up with these!" Next up was Dimitri and Vonel. Since he knew they were probably out together, he dropped off his gifts in their mail and moved along. their gifts were some fancy wine glasses and a bottle of fine aged wine (which he got from Impor a few months back) to go with.

Now was time for the big delivery, Inspector's house! Alexie walked up to the front door and knocked a little loudly, as he could tell the house was noisy today. after a bit of waiting, Inspector answered joyfully. "Oh, Alexie! Didn't think you'd be here buddy!" The two embraced each other with a quick hug and pat on the back. Alexie then replied "Yeah, I'm just here to drop off a few things and I'll be heading on my way!"

Inspector welcomed his friend in, Alexie was greeted by many hugs and his excited little nephew. when everything settled, Alexie had finally shown what he was here for; the gifts he made. "Oh, Alexie, You didn't have to go through all this trouble!" Inspector's wife said sheepishly, Alexie reassured her while handing the gifts out to everyone. "It's not a big deal, besides I love to spread a little joy every now and then!"

The Inspector's son, Arseni, was opening his gift. he jumped with joy when he held the little blue car in his hands, he ran to his uncle and hugged his leg. "Thanks, Uncle Alexie! I love it!!" Alexie was glad that he enjoyed his gift, he gave the kid a pat on the head before Arseni left to the living room to play with his new toy. Inspector then asked; "Do you want to join me and my family for dinner? we made a lot of food thanks to the new holiday bonus." Alexie, after a bit of consideration, decided to stay for a little while.

When the clock hit 7, Alexie was off again. He ran to his next destination as he had lost track at time with the Inspector. He needed to make one last stop at Calensk's place. He slipped and tripped many times but he finally got there with the gift still in perfect condition. he knocked lazily, a bit out of breath from all the traveling he did around the streets today. Calensk wasn't the one to answer the door, instead it was a man who looked similar to his friend. Alexie looked up as the man asked, filled with confusion; "Uhh.. Do you need anything?"

Right. Alexie forgot that Calensk was living with his brother. He answered as he straightened his back. "Oh, I'm here for Calensk, I believe he lives here?" The man responded. "Oh, Hang on, I'll go call him for you."

He ran back inside and yelled. "HEY CAL! YOU GOT A GUEST!!" Alexie could hear the annoyed shout back; "STOP FUCKIN' YELLING, DOMINIK, I CAN HEAR YOU JUST FINE!" Alexie was a bit startled when Dominik suddenly poked his head back out the door. "He should be heading down now."

Soon enough, Calensk had answered the door. "Oh, Alexie. Sorry about that, my brother seems to not care for indoor voices." Alexie waved away his apology. "Don't worry about it! besides," Alexie paused as he took the gift out of his bag. "-I got you a little something!" Calensk, like everyone else Alexie had gotten a gift for, was pleasantly surprised. He opened his gift to see that it was a toolbox, colored a dull teal, inside was screwdrivers, wrenches, hammers and many other hardware. Alexie then spoke up, turning his gaze as he got a bit bashful. "I-I know that you've been working on that car project of yours for a while now, so I wanted to give you something to help you out, even just a little.."

Calensk was admiring them, he knew only Alexie would come up with something so thoughtful. He looked up at his boss while shutting the toolbox, giving a small smile. "Thank you Alexie. This means a lot to me." Alexie nodded and was about to leave until Calensk took his hand. "Wait- You're not too busy this evening, are you?" The kind man thought for a moment before answering; "No, I was just gonna head home for the day. Was there anything you needed?"

Calensk shook his head. "No, I just was wondering if you'd like to stay for the night." Alexie took a moment to process his request, then his face got red. "Oh! Well, I uh, could spend the night here, I-If that's what you want." Cal smiled again, he always loved how flustered he gets. "Then come on in, I'll get us some drinks." The two walked inside as snowflakes began to fall outside. today was truly Alexie's best Christmas yet. ♡

Writers Note ♡◇♡

This was meant to be written and uploaded on Christmas but things didn't work out, tried New Years and I was still late. But hey, better late than never right?

I wanted to try something new with this one, went easier on myself with timing, tried to make it more clear who was talking and overall just tried to make it shorter since I seemed to be hard on myself with how long a fic could be, I'll test this out more often so hopefully I can get more done with my project (no promises)

Thank u all 4 supporting me through 2023 btw!! Hope y'all stick around for this year as well!! I'll cya later!

#papers please #alexie holland #calensk #inspector