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cf8wrk4u-us · 9 months

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How The Lost Light Canceled The Hunger Games

Summary: To a Cybertronian, 200 years is nothing, barely a foot note in this peaceful time where bot are trying to rebuild their world and society.

But 200 years is a lot to humans though, 200 years is a lot for Earth in general.

Things change, humanity changes.

And as Cybertron will learn, not for the better.

But this is something the members of the Lost Light wouldn't stand for.

(Based on these ask given to @yes-i-write-fanfiction

https://www.tumblr.com/yes-i-write-fanfiction/735322098308890624/in-honor-of-the-ballad-of-songbirds-and-snakes?source=share

We're on a flat, open stretch of ground, a plain of hard packed dirt.

Behind the tributes across from me, | can see nothing, indicating either a steep downward slope or even cliff. To my right lies a lake. To my left and back, spars piney woods. This is where Haymitch would want me to go.

Immediately.

I hear his instructions in my head. “Just clear out, put as much distance as you can between yourselves and the others, and find a source of water”

But it’s tempting, so tempting, when I see the bounty waiting there before me. And I know that if I don’t get it, someone else will. That the Career Tributes who survive the bloodbath will divide up most of these life-sustaining spoils. Something catches my eye. There, resting on a mound of blanket rolls, is a silver sheath of arrows and a bow, already strung, just waiting to be engaged. That’s mine, I think. It’s meant for me.

I’m fast. I can sprint faster than any of the girls in our school although a couple can beat me in distance races. But this forty-yard length, this is what I am built for. I know I can get it, I know I can reach it first, but then the question is how quickly can I get out of there? By the time I’ve scrambled up the packs and grabbed the weapons, others will have reached the horn, and one or two I might be able to pick off, but say there’s a dozen, at that close range, they could take me down with the spears and the clubs. Or their own powerful fists.

Still, I won't be the only target. I’m betting many of the other tributes would pass up a smaller girl, even one who scored an eleven in training, to take out their more fierce adversaries.

Haymitch has never seen me run. Maybe if he had he’d tell me to go for it. Get the weapon. Since that’s the very weapon that might be my salvation. And I only see one bow in that whole pile. I know the minute must be almost up and will have to decide what my strategy will be and I find myself positioning my feet to run, not away into the stir rounding forests but toward the pile, toward the bow.

I notice Peeta, he’s about five tributes to my right, quite a fair distance, still I can tell he’s looking at me and I think he might be shaking his head. But the sun’s in my eyes and-

CRASH!

A symphony of broken glass and metal erupted across the arena, the once sunny and clear blue sky darkens into a mess of pixelated screens and crumpling scaffolding. But that's not what had our attention.

From the growing crack in the forcefield was a large aircraft, far bigger than the Capital hovercraft that had brought us to the arena. It was colored in a bright orange red and yellow with tinted dark glass on its front, so massive was its size that it literally scraped the sides of the entrance it cashed through. Sending more of the broken structure to crash down.

My breath picked up, heart hammering in my chest as I saw the craft get closer and closer to us, I noted absently how its shadow easily shaded over me the rest of the tributes. Practically eclipsing the whole arena.

A part of me screamed to move, to run, I thought of images of a hawk as it swooped over a desperate rodent. But the rational part of myself firmly and calmly reminded me that I needed to stay still on the circle before me or I would end up in pieces from the land mines.

But even that became a physical struggle as the aircraft landed sending a heavy gust of wind that threatened to blow tributes back from their stands. I braced my knees and even as I couldn’t stay on I grasped to stay right on the circle. In fact I noticed how others did the same , but a few weren’t successful. Such as one male tribute, from District 5 I believed, who was sent tumbling off. I gave a quick look from my position, ready to hear and see a mess of explosions…but nothing happened.

Even the District 5 tribute, whose face had paled, was now looking confused at the fact he wasn’t a mess against the grass.

The gong hadn’t gone off, yet the mines were not active, so what had the trigger time run out?

Has the Hunger Games begun?

In my head the passing thought came of how this could just be a scenario made by the Gamemakers.

That perhaps the games already started and here I was just standing like easy prey.

But as I heard another groan of metal from the collapsing field above, even I had to admit that was a stupid idea.

Even so, then what was happening?!

Finally the craft opened and a bridge slid down, then stepping out with a thump of metal and heavy footsteps were what I can only name as giants.

Giants covered, no, made of metal!

Then it barely took me a second to recognize what these beings were.

Transformers.

In our history books it always seemed that throughout Panem past and even before the creation of the country, humans have always been each other's greatest enemies. But as stated in our history books, thousands of years ago, there was another race of beings that almost wiped out the planet and the entire human race with it.

Aliens from another world, giant transforming robots known as Cybertronians.

Beings of metal brutality and cold indifference, a warring species who brought their conflict with one another to Earth and put humans right in the crossfires of it.

Only leaving once almost irreparable damage was done to the planet.

As a child and learning about them in class I sometimes would look to the night sky in terror at the thought that these aliens were still out there. Just hiding among the deceptively beautiful stars.

But after losing my father, struggling to hold what was left of my family together, and the helpless dread that came with the annual Reaping; I learned rather quickly that the monsters in real life were far scarier than that of thousand-year-old metal terrors that hadn’t been seen in ages.

What was there to fear of beings who hadn’t been interested in Earth for centuries?

How ironic that my only fear had been my fellow humans when it came to surviving the arena.

Four stepped out from the ship, taking the lead was a fiery red and orange mech whose colors matched the design of the ship. Next to him came the largest of the group was colored a deep blue and red with white high shoulder guards on each side. Besides them was the shortest of the group of Cybertronians, his dark armored body barely reaching the orange one's waist and who unlike his companions didn’t have a visible face of sorts but a blue visor that fitted their red and white helmet. And finally from behind was an imposing gray and black figure, whose armor may appear more subdued in coloring and design than his group, his helmet a simple flat triangular design, nonetheless was buff and strapping. Power practically screaming from just his image alone, and when his red eyes gazed over to us I couldn't help but shiver under their intensity. Not feeling any better when I noticed a sort of dark blaster on its right arm.

He seemed familiar, his image perhaps one I had seen in my aging textbook?

I didn't have the time to ponder further as they finally stepped away from the ship and made it to the grassy field of the arena.

Like earlier I shifted my legs for a sprint, forgetting all about the food and weapons, my eyes shifting to the large expanse of forest that would be the only way to try to avoid whatever these stalking giants had in stored for us.

It was the only plan I could think of, the safest choice, and I’m sure Haymitch would agree.

Is he seeing this? Is the Capital? The whole country? Do they know where being invaded-

“Hello, there”!

I was taken off guard as the orange and red Transformer, the presumably leader of the group, called out to us. His voice was jovial and the smile that spread across his metal face was friendly.

Nothing that gave me a reason to trust him.

His grin persisted as he marched closer only shifting as several tributes cried out and scrambled to escape.

“Wait! Wait”! The giant robot hurriedly said “It's okay”!

I didn’t stop in my sprint till I made it to Peeta, not complaining as he firmly grasped my wrist and pulled me into a hurried pace.

We needed to leave, put as much distance as we could from these metal monsters.

“We're not here to hurt you”! The Transformer said in a surprisingly desperate tone “We're here to help you! Save you! Too Stop The Hunger Games”!

I nearly fell as Peeta stopped.

“Peeta”! I hissed trying to tug him towards the forest, but he refused to move instead looking dumbfounded at the robot. As if he believed what it was saying.

But as I looked around I could see the other tributes had stopped as well, with the ones who made it to the woods actually peeking from the edge of the treeline.

The red and orange robot's face morphed into a softer expression before he went down on one knee.

I gestured I couldn’t help but recognize from my sister Prim when she approached the small scared animals she nursed back to health or in my mom to the anxious sickly children that were brought to be treated at our home.

This Transformer, this giant of a being, was trying to make himself smaller so that the tiny humans before him wouldn’t be frightened.

That…didn’t sound like the hostile warring species from my history class.

I stopped trying to move Peeta.

Seeing that he had our attention the robot spoke again, his voice soft but clear.

“We're here to save you, you won’t have to die today, not for some game, and especially not for your Capital” he stood up before looking at the smaller Transformer “Rewind, are we ready”?

“Just about” they, Rewind, answered “Though before we start mind stepping a little to the left”?

“Huh, why”? Asked the leader

“Because captain, if we were trying to sell the whole “we don’t mean any harm” image maybe we shouldn’t be showing how we trashed their enclosure”? Rewind said

The apparent captain looked to the shattered entrance they had created before sheepishly smiling “Yeah…better not let them see that yet”

“Doubt it will make much a a difference” said the gray and black Transformer, his voice was sharp and curt “No doubt their Capital already knows about the damage done to their little arena”

“This difference is Megs is that we're making a statement” said the Captain “One that has to be said as soon as possible, ready Rewind”?

“Whenever you are” said the smaller bot, tapping the side of his helmet.

I was confused why he did that till I noticed a redlight shinning on the side of his helmet, a video recorder perhaps?

With that the red and orange giant stood straight ahead, his gaze intense as he looked at Rewind “Citizens of the Capitol and Panem, we come in peace”!

CRACK! CRASH!

At that moment more scaffolding and material decided to come tumbling down into the arena as if to loudly object to the statement.

I winced at the noise and off to the side I could see the largest of the Transformers actually pinch his brow in an exasperated manner. A scene I could almost find funny.

Despite this though the captain gave only a nervous chuckle before speaking again “This is Rodimus Prime, and despite our rather abrupt entrance, we have only the best of intention for our arrival” he face then became more serious “While I understand that as of now most of the citizens of this country recognize us in a hostile light, we Autobots, many members of the Cybertronian race have viewed Earth and its people as sentient like minded beings. Ones who needed protection and safety when our war did unfortunately touch your planet. With some humans even becoming valued allies who fought besides us during such a perilous time” Rodimus stopped then, his blue glass eyes dimming even “After the war we left Earth, both out of a need to protect this planet from any further conflict we may have had and out of respect for humanity who wanted to independently run their society once it was rebuilt, a wish we were determined to honor” his voice then harden as he continued “But recent discoveries and findings have forced us to decide to break this arrangement, this biggest being your so called Hunger Games” Rodimus practically spat that word out “A society whose higher caste who not only feeds greedily on it’s citizens but demands blood tributes out of its children, making a game out of their very lives! It will not continue! Not if I can help it”!

I watched transfixed as he raised a fist to his fiery chassis “I call an end to the Hunger Games! Starting now”! He calmed “Again this isn’t a message made out maliciously, I want more than anything to resolve this peacefully, I hope you can believe me citizens of Panem”

Rewind then made a gesture and Rodimus visibly relaxed, even giving a small laugh.

“So did we get all that”?

“Sent it right to our sources, hopefully it was enough to get it to the other Districts but you can bet those big cogs in the Capitol must have seen it”

“That's good” Rodimus nodded before beginning to walk “All we got to do is wait for now”

“You know Optimus Prime isn’t going to be happy about the stunt we pulled today” the gray and black one, Megs, spoke again.

“Well Optimus shouldn’t have been dragging his pedes over this,” responded Rodimus “But if anything just say you were following the captains orders, I’ll take the fall”

“I highly doubt he believed that” the blue and red Transformer said

Rodimus actually shrugged before looking our direction again, he gave another reassuring smile “Just hang tight” he said “I almost got you all out of this”

No one responded for the longest time, till in a quiet voice spoke out.

“Is this really happening”?

I couldn’t pinpoint who spoke, but that voice echoed a question I was asking myself.

Was this really happening?

I recalled the proclamation made by the Transformer not even a minute ago.

An end to the Hunger Games.

No more Hunger Games.

The games were canceled.

Was this really happening? Barely a few minutes earlier I was ready to run for my life and fight against my fellow tributes in a bloody arena, but now I was being told that we didn’t have to fight by a giant metal alien.

I felt Peeta shudder beside me and when I looked at him I could see how wet his eyes were getting, he covered his mouth trying to muffle a sob. Without thinking I pulled him close and let his weight sag against mine.

I was ready to let our time in the tower be our final goodbye, knowing that the chances of us making it from the Cornucopia was slim at best and remaining allies had an even smaller chance.

But saying I wasn’t relieved would be a lie, I was relieved that the games hadn’t started, relieved that Peeta and I were still together, relieved that we were going to be okay.

And if a few tears and raspy breaths left my mouth I wouldn’t find myself ashamed for it.

When we were calm enough to pull away I looked to the other tributes; most stood with their Districts. Some crying and clinging to one another, a few who decided to look through the packs of supplies littered around the arena, but most just staring at the Transformers that stood by their ship.

Well most of them.

The apparent captain, Rodimus, was actually walking leisurely towards the pond. Then literally popping open his chest cavity pulled out a pole of some kind that had a string at the end of it.

It took me a second to realize what he was doing.

“Is he…”? Peeta started

This Transformer, a giant metal warrior, a captain that led his own crew, and just broke into the Capitals arena and called an end to the Hunger Games; just plopped himself at the end of the water and began to fish!

Peeta actually coughed a laugh besides me “Can robots even eat fish”?

I didn’t know and wasn’t sure to find out.

But surprisingly enough Peeta let go of my hand and actually got towards the robot!

“Peeta”?! I whispered harshly “What are you doing”?

“I want to get a closer look at them” he said

“Peeta, wait”! I said urgently “They’re Transformers, it might not be safe too-”

“They saved our lives Katniss and you heard them, they don’t want to hurt us” Peeta said but before he kept moving he held out a hand to me, encouraging me to take it.

I hesitated though.

Despite what these Transformers had done for us, despite their promises, I still didn’t feel comfortable putting myself in a squishing range of them.

Peeta gave me a disappointed yet understanding look and continued on. Surprisingly even some tributes began to take his lead, forming a small crowd.

The bot, Rodimus, began to notice their approach and gave a large smile at them.

“Hello there,”! he said

None of the tributes worked up the nerve to greet him back verbally but I could see Peeta giving his own smile in return along with an energetic wave of his hand.

A part of me had to keep myself from rolling my eyes, it was just like Peeta to try to get people to like him. The games may have been over and these giants claimed not to mean any harm but Peeta was still trying to play it safe.

He really was clever like that.

But ultimately it wasn’t Peeta who opened up to the metal giant.

“You know how to fish”?

This came from the young 12 year old from District 4.

“Yup” Rodimus said “Back when I was stationed on Earth a good friend of mine taught me, I got really into it after that” He ended that by adjusting his line a little.

The District 4 boy's eyes widened before giving a curious gaze at the pond next to them.

“Do you think there’s anything in there”?

“I hope, in either case I’m just glad to be fishing again”! The robot said “I told myself that if I ever came to Earth again it would be one of the first things I did”! He stopped before asking the Tributes besides him “Do any of you fish”?

Again most stayed silent but the District 4 didn’t hesitate to raise his hand and say “My district is responsible for most of the fishing done, some of my father and uncles are even allowed on the boats to go to sea for the bigger stuff, we even have competitions during the season”

Rodimus' eyes seemed to glow brighter “Oh, so you're a bit of an expert huh”? He asked leaning closer “So what's the biggest fish you’ve caught so far”?

The young boy's face went red, from the freckles of his nose to the bouncy curls on his head.

“Um, just a couple of mackerel with my dads old fishing rod ” he said quietly almost embarrassed “I catch a lot more with nets with my friends”

“Mackerel! Wow that impressive”! The giant robot expressed eagerly “Most of my fishing is done in freshwater, I say the biggest I got was just 5 pound bluegill but boy was he a tough one-hey I didn't catch your name by the way”

“Luca” said the boy “Luca Alberts”

As the red and orange Transformer continued to chatter on about his fishing experiences the group of huns around him seemed to relax more and more, feeling at ease his casual attitude. And it seemed to affect some of the other tributes too who had previously kept their distance.

I moved closer to where Peeta was in the group, catching more of the conversation made by Rodimus to the District 4 tribute.

“So do you really hope to catch anything”? Asked the boy, Luca

“Who knows? Best way to pass the time anyway” Rodimus responded

“You might want to be careful” a voice suddenly said

It was one of the male tributes, I didn’t recognize him initially given he looked like another of the 14 year olds that were taken into the games. Then recalling a yellow suit I realized this must have been the tribute from District 3, his bright yellow dress shirt being the only thing that stood out in his rather dull interview with Cesar.

“You don’t know what might be inside the pond” the District 3 Tribute explained “The arenas are supposed to be set up with all kinds of traps, ones operated by the Gamemakers and ones set loose like the Mutts”

“Mutts” Rodmius said quietly “Right, those lab made animals they make” his happy expression turned into a somber one before his smile returned “Well, it’ll be fine! If there's anything dangerous lurking in these water, just trust your friend Rodimus to help”

He added a thumbs up that honestly felt corny, but seemed to please the younger tributes.

“I’d like to fish too”! Luca announced

Rodimus hummed unsure “Well, I only have one-”

“It’s fine” he stated before going to the nearest pack and rummaging through it “There pretty simple to make if you have the right supplies”

Rodimus nodded “Then I'll trust the expert on this”

The boy gave a proud grin though mad a disappointed sound at not fighting anything before moving onto the next pack.

From where I stood I gave another glance at Rodimus and his robotic teamates.

To be honest it wasn’t enough to say these were robots, the Capital miniature cleaning or delivering drones definitely fit the definition. There movements stiff and uniform, moved with purpose in their singular task.

But these Transformers, they moved as a human would. Maybe not with the same fluidity but unrestricted, like the armor they were wasn't just something attached to their bodies but actually a part of them. Even the metal on their faces, despite how alien they looked, moved so easily. And given Rodimus examples, with so much expression and versatility.

How could metal and gears and inanimate material move and soften so much like flesh, like actual breathing beings.

Because they were alive obviously….

For years I had it in my head that these aliens were nothing but cold hearted machines of war. That's what our history books told us, showed us.

But then again those books were written by the Capital.

And the Capital says a lot of things.

I looked at the large Transformers before me; Rodimus chatting with the other tributes, the smaller one Rewind holding the side of his face as he gazed around so obviously still recording, and finally to the two largest bots who stood rather detached from the rest of the group.

I part of me wondered how different things have been if Rodimus and his people had come sooner.

Would the first Rebellion have been successful, would the Capital still have demanded to Hunger Games, would their even have been a Hunger Games, would-?

My hypothetical thoughts were cut short when a piercing scream went through the air.

Turning I could see some of the tributes scattering away from the Cornucopia as the male District 2 tribute came barreling out of the entrance swinging a large sword.

“Stop! What are you doing”?!! cried Rodimus, quickly getting up and abandoning his fishing pole “Why are you fighting! Your free now! No one is making you kill anyone”!

The brutish tribute, Cato if I member his name, looked at the robot and actually gave a snarky smile.

“Are you stupid”? he asked “Do you really think you can stop the games? That we'll let you”!

From behind him I can see more of the Career Tributes gather behind him, each brandishing their own weapons.

“We're here for a reason! And I'm not about to let you take that away from us”!

More tributes scattered as the pack of Carriers ready their weapons and stalk forward.

Despite everything, despite all of Rodimus hopeful promises, I'm sure that there's going to be death even if these aliens did call for an end of the games.

Really how stupid was I to believe them, how stupid I was for not grabbing a weapon, or not just running when I had the chance.

“That's enough”! Rodimus ordered taking a step forward, barely restrained anger in his voice “Stop this now or-”

But already Cato was rushing forward sword already at the closest, hapless target.

Luca.

The District 4 tribute quest for fishing line and other supplies had put him just close enough to Cato line of attack, he kneeled by an open bag, to startled or afraid to run.

Rodimus quickly moved , the ground quaking in his hurried step forward. Avoiding get accidentally trampled on I didn't notice when Peeta left my side till I saw him rushing past Rodimus bright orange feet right for Luca.

The instance was too fast and too slow at the same time, Peeta running to the boy, taking him his arms to try and pull him away from the attack, the sword swinging down and blood sprinkling out.

I can feel myself yelling, Peeta name clawing its way out of my mouth as I saw the sword about to swing back down again.

BOOM!

A roaring blast echoed through the air as a bright hot beam of purple shot over the heads of the Carrier tributes.

The arena grew hot, it felt like the very air was singed from that one blast. Leaving A smoking crater in the far off distance that no doubt could have easily sizzled away any puny human in its path.

It felt hard to breath and my stomach threatened to lurch the meager breakfast I stomached back at the tower. But still I turned my head to look at the cause of the blast.

The gray and black mech.

Everyone was silent, afraid too move. Even the Carrier tributes, who had been a savage pack thirsty for our blood were left shaking. The District 1 tribute actually scared off his feet, ass to the ground as he look terrified at the glowering red eyed Transformer.

"You wanna try that again”? the Transformer said, his voice like a rumbling storm, his still smoking cannon leveled at the group of Carriers “I came here because I thought I was saving innocent humans from a cruel game made by a tyrannical society, not a rabid creature who sees fit to attack his own kind"

Cato stupidly tries to argue "Its the Hunger Games-"!

"And as my captain stated, there are no more games from here on out" said the bot, but his face actually looked to soften a bit "Your a Carrier tribute, from what I understand, you were raised for this, all of you" he cast his eyes to the rest of the group "Raised to murder, slaughter, and entertain...but understand that from here on out the games are done….but if you feel so free to continue fighting than do it"

The cannon lights up.

"Come forward and strike, make your District proud, make your owners proud"

Cato seemed to be hyperventilating, he turned to his fellow Carrier tributes but they were all shrinking away under the gaze of the giant robot aiming their weapons at them.

All of these Carrier tributes, made into these roughness killing machines for the benefit of the games, reduced to scared children.

I find it laughable if I wasn't fixed on a moaning Peeta lying on the top of a silent Luca.

But I didn't dare approach till Cato, with an almost wheezy cry, squeezed his blade one more time before throwing it away.

The others following his example.

I rushed forward trying to evaluate the damage, kneeling besides Peeta I carefully tried to move him on his back and off of Luca. The boy looked fine but I startled to see that Peeta had a long slash cutting across his right arm. Cutting deeply by his elbow before becoming shallow by his shoulder. Bleeding very heavily.

I did my best to press on the wound, the warmth stickiness of it pooling between my fingers.

Peeta eyes were open with pain but still he managed a strangled “Katniss…”

“You idiot”! I couldn't help but snap “What were you thinking”?!

He was so close to getting out! Getting out alive at least!

A shadow overtook us and I looked to see both Rodimus and Rewind staring down at us.

Rodimus was clear with horror as he looked at Peeta's wound.

“Scrap” I heard him mutter, I didn’t know what it meant but couldn't help but share his sentiment.

The sleeve of my coat was already soaked with blood. I knew I couldn't continue on like this, then stupidly I member there was a pack besides me.

I grabbed at it hastily looking through, cursing as I only found a few crackers, a empty canteen, and a pair of socks.

Despite this I stretched the socks as far as I could, rembering from my mother and Prims work that no matter what I had to press to keep the blood in! Huh, even with something so obvious I still was failing.

“Here” a voice said and I felt a weight besides me.

It was the young girl from District 11, Rue, and in her hands was a roll of bandages.

Quickly grasping it I thanked her and made to work trying to wrap the wound. Rue wordlessly held up the arm gently to let me encircle it further, though Peeta gave painful gasps still.

“Let's try tying part of the arm” said Rue tapping just above his elbow “It'll help with the bleeding”

I nodded following her instructions, just like I would if it were my sister and mother. I was never a gifted healer like them and I didn't have confidence in the wrappings as I still saw red peaking through the white of the bandages. But I was still too glad that it stopped spilling on the grass.

The shadow above us got bigger and I felt Rue press up to me while Luca fliched.

“Will he survive”? asked the gray and black Transformer

“I-I don't know” Rodimus said “Oh, slag, we really should have brought Ratchet”!

“To be fair he may nor have been as helpful considering this is a human and not a Cybertronian patient”

“Yeah but-will you put that thing away Megatron”! Rodimus suddenly yelled in frustration

Megatron.

I felt my blood run cold as I finally realized why I recognized this specific Transformer.

Images of him, him and his Decepticons, littered the chapter of my history book.

Describing one of the leaders of the two waring Cybertronian factions, this bot name was meantioned as to put a face to the carnage that was the species of Cybertronians. Deemed so evil and callus for his not only his utter disregard of human life but in his delighted in the utter suffering and destruction to the organic life on this planet. Pictures and accounts left no room for nightmarish imagination.

He barely looked any different, I could still recognize him.

This was him.

This was Megatron.

I didn't hesitate to push myself in front of Peeta and the younger two. Despite knowing I was helpless to anything he want to do to us.

“It was just too prove a point” said the metal ravager “Wasn't even looking to maim”

“That's not the point Megs-”! Rodimus would have continued if the whole arena didn't begin to shake causing even the giant robots to become unsteady on their feet.

Suddenly the forest erupted in a burst of flames! And the once tranquil pond bubbled ominously, growing inside till literal waves were sloshing closer to the field the stood.

“I believe the Gamemakers are not too happy with us interrupting there game” said the blue and red bot named Mags as he approached his captain.

Getting a serious face Rodimus loudly ordered “Grab the humans, were getting out of here”!

Rodimus kneeled before us “We got to leave” he said before cupping his metal hand and holding it low “I know your friends hurt but we gotta move you guys”

There's a lot I can distrust Rodimus for, being a Cybertronian for 1. and having Megatron on his crew for 2.

But seeing the earnestness in his blue glass eyes and knowing staying in the arena meant only death, I could only silently shuffle Peeta onto the bright red metal with Rue and Luca following behind us. The metal felt oddly warm beneath me.

“That's it little buddies ” Rodimus said encouragingly “There we go”

His fingers curling as the only warning before Rodimus lifted us up to a dizzying hight, from their I could see the other bots Mags and Rewind collect the rest of the tributes with surprising gentleness.

Something I also noticed is Megatron himself, simply standing there and staring at the Carrier tributes who panicked as the ground around them began to muddy as the tide of the water lapped at their feet.

I guessed that the metal destroyer maybevwanted to finish the job,but to my surprise he leaned down and scooped up the scared tributes.

Soon enough Rodimus and the others rushed us towards their ship

It started dark before opening to a control room full of machinery and screen monitors.

“Magnus, get us ready for lift off” said Rodimus before going towards a large glass tank and gentle settling us inside there. Rewind did the same to the two tributes he held and the bot Mags/Magnus set down the rest.

There was some hesitancy as Rodimus saw Megatron with the Carrier tributes but he only made a clicking noise before jumping into one of the seats, no doubt the Captain chair.

“Are we ready”?

“Thrusters on captain”!

I barely felt the ship move but on the monitors is clearly showed us soaring above the almost decimated arena and lift towards the dome. I shuddered and continued to hold Peeta as once again the ship jolted as it scrapped against the size of the force field.

“Rodimus, I'm detecting several hostile flight carriers coming our way”

“Guess they really didn't appreciate our little peace demonstration” Rodimus said dryly as he gripped the steering device.

The monitors showed what was obviously Capital shuttles coming at the ship.

There was a violent shudder from the side of the ship.

“Rodimus…should we engage” said Magnus quietly

Rodimus voice was determined as he said “No, we agreed we weren't taking any lives today” but then an almost cheerful tone came to his voice “But I got something else in mind”!

The ship gave a jerk and I felt myself bracing against the surface of the tank.

“They want to chase us, then we'll go somewhere they can't follow”!

Despite the optimistic way he spoke it was becoming worryingly hard to breath.

“Rodimus” Megatron said in a stressed tone “Rember the elevation, the humans-”

“I think I know how to transport humans” Rodimus said sarcastically, but I couldn't help but notice that it was getting easier to breath.

I coughed and checked on Peeta, concerned how paled he was though with how alert he looked I was still hopeful.

The jostling stopped and soon it was a smooth ride. Though not a comfortable one as Megatron gazed at all of us within the tank.

I did my best to meet his gaze fearlessly, my eyes flickering to the scared Carrier tributes still in his hands. The squirmed and cried, terrified to be in the hands of a titan who could easily squish them.

The one-sided stare off was broken by Rodimus hysterical laughter “We did it! We did it”! the bot practically leaped from his seat to fist pump the air “We saved the humans and showed those higher cassette up”

“Yes” Magnus said in a tired voice “With 23 anxious young humans and 1 injured tribute in our care”

“Well, we can figure it out” said Rodimus jovially “Doesn't this prove we can do anything”?

“Rodimus-” started Magnus

“Oh, we need to get ready to dock”!

The way Magnus sighed you would think he was a tired parent to a rambunctious child and not the crew member following his captain.

There was another shudder and soon a bright light entered the hall we had come from, soon Rodimus left his seat to the tank we were in.

He was all smiles as he began to roll the very platform our tank was on towards the entrance.

“Your safe now, your safe” he kept murmuring.

I wondered if it was more for his assurance then for our sakes.

The light at the end of the hall was blinding but when we emerged from it a roar of cheers followed.

“WE'RE BACK”! yelled Rodimus

As my eyes adjusted to the light I could see we were in a large hangar of some sort and inside it a group of Transformers stood, bots of versions colors and sizes all whooped and hollered in congratulations to Rodimus and his group.

Once we got closer several of them surged forward.

“You actually got them”? said one with sharp helmet a grey face and red marking around his eyes.

“Ha! I wish I could have seen the faceplate of those Capital jerks when you burst in there” said one bot who only had a single yellow glass eye that made up his greenish blue helm.

“Are these humans”? one small white and blue bot asked as they struggled to look at them from the height of our platform “They're so cute”!

A purple Transformers with a narrow face and red eyes leaned forward “One of thems injured”

“Scrap”! Rodimus said “Ratchet?! Where's Ratchet”?

“I'm here”! called a gruff voice, a red and white mech pushed through the crowd “What happened”?

“Um, we ran into some complications” said Rodimus gesturing to Peeta “Can you help him”?

“A human patient” the robot frowned “I can try, but I can't promise I'll be as much use given how long it's been and what supplies I have ir should I say don't have”

“Haha, he just being modest” Rodimus said nervously looking at Katniss “But he'll be in safe servos”

That obviously didn't assure me and both bots could tell as I held Peeta close to me.

The one called Ratchet came forward before lowering his hand into the tank, tributes did scramble back till it was only me and Peeta before the metal hand that was as big as a storage door.

“I see your worried for your friend, I understand” he said “ But I need to take a look at him, it's the best way to ensure his wound is properly treated”

“Your not a human” I found myself saying “You don't know what your doing”

“This isn’t my first time with an injured human, it's just been some time and I don't exactly have what I need….” He stopped before saying “He looks like aid was administered, was this your work”?

I nodded but admitted “I had some help”

Ratchet hummed and nodded before nudging his hand more instantly towards me “You can come along, perhaps you could help me treat him”

I gulped looking between him, the hand, and a grimacing Peeta. Then finally helped push Peeta onto the outstretched hand before placing myself onto the cold metal of the palm. I braced myself as once again lifted by a metal giant.

Ratchet began to quickly walk away with us, but I could still hear Rodimus speaking.

“Megatron make sure you keep those tributes separated” he instructed curtly, obviously talking about the Carrier group.

His voice became more lighter as he said “As for the rest of you, I want to welcome you all to the Lost Light”!!!!

#transformers #transformers idw #transformers mtmte #hunger games #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #rodimus #rewind #ultra magnus #megatron #ratchet #crossover #the hunger games

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jpitha · 6 months

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Between the Black and Gray 26

First / Previous / Next

"Shit!" Fen dove to the ground and slid into the legs of the first guard, knocking him over, and he tumbled into a pile with a grunt. The second saw that and skidded to a stop, putting the momentum from his run into swinging his rifle like a club.

"That's odd" Fen thought as she ducked under the rifle butt and reached up to twist his weapon out of his hands. "Why isn't he shooting?" She used the momentum imparted on the rifle by its previous owner to swing around and clock him in the skull, knocking him down.

Northern stood there, mouth agape.

Fen cycled the action on the rifle and checked it. It was loaded with armor piercing rounds. That was also odd. Who were they expecting to fight? She looked back towards Northern and picked up the luggage. "Well? Come on then. Grab that rifle, no sense in wasting it."

"Yes ma'am!" Northern grinned as she picked up the rifle and ran after her.

The original guard that had let Fen in was not at his post, his door sliding up and down as it hit an obstruction. Fen looked down only to see a booted foot blocking the door, preventing it from closing. The guard from earlier was face down just outside the doorway, with a pool of blood around his head.

"Northern... do you know a different way out?"

Northern peered around Fen. "I see what you mean. Seems like someone came in before us."

"Come now Fenchurch, surely I'm more than just 'someone'?"

Fen turned behind her, and saw Nal, standing there in the uniform of the Discoverers, flanked by two more guards.

"Nalenni? What are you doing?"

"Me? I'm just cleaning up a source of contraband. Tell me though, what are you doing? First they keep you aboard Dreams longer than me; that's fine, I figure they're trying to recruit you. Then, I hear that Dreams and her two escorts were obliterated when it blew itself up and the only witness was a human in a brand new Frigate with a ton of money and crates of weapons who has 'no idea' what happened." She put her hands on her hips. "I have to say Fen, I am impressed. If you did it, I have no idea how. If you didn't I have no idea how you escaped."

Northern looked down at Fen. "What's all this?"

Fen looked back at Northern. "Tell you all about it once we get out. You have my word I didn't do anything bad." She thought a moment. "Well, nothing I thought was bad at the time."

Nal looked at them both. "A new friend already Fen? My, but you tend to burn through them." She snapped her fingers and the two guards brought their rifles to bear. "Now ladies, let's not be stupid. Cooperate and I'm sure you'll both survive the day."

Northern locked eyes with Nal and mumbled out of the corner of her mouth "How bad do you want to get out of here?"

Fen tried to not react. "Uh, pretty badly? My ship is in the public docs if it hasn't been impounded. We can get there and go. I have no... real ties here." It wasn't exactly true, and it wasn't exactly a lie.

"When it happens, duck and run out of the door."

"When what ha-" was all she could manage before Northern reached behind her and whipped something at Nal and the guards faster than any human could. The K'laxi didn't have any chance of reacting as the concussion grenade blinded and deafened them.

K'laxi have larger eyes and ears than humans. It makes sense as they evolved in the large forests of their home. They were originally crepuscular animals, best suited to early morning and evening. Their sight - while not quite having the same contrast or color dept as humans - was excellent in low light.

The concussion grenade must have hurt like hell. All three of them screamed and dropped whatever they were holding to cover their eyes. Their ears flat on their head and they nearly collapsed onto the ground.

Fen dove through the door, with Northern following close behind. She used the rifle to slide the dead K'laxi's leg out from the door, and it slammed shut. "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Fen, what the hell was that?" Northern's voice rising with each name she intoned.

"Can it wait?" Fen looked around the beige hall. She came from that direction, but it only led her to the bar. She was sure she didn't want to bring this heat on Ullen.

"No Fen, it can't wait. What. Is. Going. On." Northern put her hands on her hips and stood there, her face stony.

"Dreams had a shackled AI and I freed it using the code that Gord showed me, and she was quite... upset at being shackled for a few hundred years, killed everyone, gave me their money and the frigate, helped me leave and then blew themselves and their escorts up!" Fen blurted her story out in one breath, as fast as she could.

"That's... a lot, Fen."

"I know."

Nothern raised her eyebrow. "Why do I believe you?"

"It's true?"

She sighed again. "Yeah, it probably is. You know the unlock code for the AI shackles?"

Fen nodded "Yeah, it's 0001."

Northern's laugh was harsh. "Of course it is."

"Northern? Do you happen to know of an exit from here? I came from that way-" She pointed "-but I don't want to bring this heat down on the guy who let me in. He's...a friend"

Northern looked around, her eyes flashing blue for just a moment. "This way. If we go down here, we can take a freight lift closer to the docks."

Northern lead them down a hall, then jogged left and right as they walked through the endless beige. She made a few more turns and Fen decided to stop trying to keep track. The identical hallways were making her thoroughly lost. Northern didn't seem to mind though. She walked on at a regular pace, head high. Occasionally, she'd stop and appear to think for a moment before continuing on.

After what felt like Fen to be an endless series of halls, her feet were getting sore, and she was flagging. "Northern, are we close? I need a break."

Northern turned back and smiled. "We're close now Fen. Gotta keep going if you want to get to your ship. We've walked all the way across Minaren and up about thirty levels. In fact..." She stopped at a doorway, and touched a panel on the side. It slid open with a little vibration brought about from age. "Here we are!"

Fen peeked inside. It was no larger than a closet, and along the far wall was a ladder. "How far do we have to climb?"

Northern looked up. "Not too far. Couple dozen meters probably. Here-" She reached down to the cart that Fen was pulling and pressed a button. Straps flowed out of the bottom and the wheels tucked up inside. "It's a little heavy, but it's got good balance. Strong girl like you should be able to carry it no problem." She winked, and pressed a button on her carts, and they configured similarly. She wore one on her front and one on her back.

Fen struggled to wear the converted backpack. She got it on, but Northern was not lying about the weight. Northern seemed to have no problem with the weight. She started climbing, and Fen followed close behind.

True to her word, it was only a dozen meters or so until Northern stopped. Fen looked up and then blushed. Northern was wearing a skirt. "Northern, why did you stop?"

"One moment Fen, I have to open this hatch." Fen heard keys being punched in on a pad, and a grunt of effort, and then she felt her ears pop with an equalizing of pressure.

Northern scurried up out of the hatch, and Fen followed behind. They were on the dock in front of...

"Fen? Why the name of our blessed Ancestors did you come out of the floor? And who is that with you?"

"Zhe! You came!" Fen was surprised at her own relief at seeing the former K'laxi Discoverer.

Zhe's tail swished. "I did. I thought about what you said, and well, life on Minaren is pretty stable, but it's boring! I'm young. I want to see the galaxy, maybe make a name for myself. If nothing else do something other than lead people in for questioning." Zhe looked up, and up at Northern. "Who is your friend?"

Northern grinned wickedly. "I'm Northern Lights. Nice to meetcha. So that's three of us? Sounds like a crew to me, Fen. Let's boogie."

"Let's what?" Fen couldn't tell if Northern was using strange slang out of habit, or to be annoying.

She gestured towards the ship. "This is yours right? Let's jet. Let's abscond. Let us leave this place."

Fen looked around. Other than Zhe, nobody seemed to notice them. There didn't seem to be extra guards or anyone shouting for them to surrender immediately. Did they get away clean? "Zhe, did you hear anything about Nalenni running a raid on the Basement?"

Zhe's ears swiveled forward and her eyes widened. "How do you know about Senior Discoverer Nalenni?"

"Senior Discoverer? Huh." Northern made a face at Fen. "Uh, She was my last job with Gord. We were contracted to bring her here, actually. When we linked in Gord and Spyglass saw the Supers, dumped her and me into a pod and left."

Northern stared for a moment and then nodded. "Yes, that does sound like Gord actually. He was always a cautious one. I have to say Fen, you have a knack for being around important people at odd times." Northern turned to Zhe. "You still didn't answer the question though. Did you hear about Nalenni running a raid?"

Northern was just asking a question, but she must have intimidated Zhe something fierce. Zhe squeaked and nearly jumped at the question. "S-sorry Miss Northern, I haven't heard anything. I'm pretty low in the organization anyway, nobody tells me anything."

Northern grinned again "Miss Northern? I like you, friend. You can just call me Northern though, it's all right." She turned to Fen. "Shall we?"

Fen walked over to the airlock and laid a hand on it. It opened without protest. Huh. Maybe they really would get away clean. She waved them in.

"Come on. Let's get out of here, and see if we can find some more crew."

#humans are deathworlders #humans are space orcs #sci fi writing #humans are space oddities #humans and aliens #jpitha #writing #humans and ai #humans are space capybaras #humans are space australians #Between the black and gray

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steviestits · 1 month

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My God Longs For Me - Part 1.3

Written for an anon prompt, which can be read in its entirety on this fic’s masterpost.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Rating: T (E for later chapters) Summary: When Steve was a child, he was abducted and brought to the cult, the Hellfire Club, as he was prophesied to be the wife of the dark forest god they worshiped. Steve enjoyed his time there, especially the time he spent with the cult leader's nephew, Eddie. This wasn't meant to last however as Steve was eventually returned to his parents. Thanks to the deprogrammer that his parents hired and time, Steve has mostly forgotten the cult that raised him. That is until he goes on a camping trip and his friends start to get murdered one by one with the only connection between the killings being the ritual offerings to the cult's gods and the strange dreams Steve has before each one. Now Steve must piece together his past to discover who is murdering his friends in the present. (Inspired heavily by various horror movies and is a horror story itself.) Trigger Warning: None Eventual Trigger Warning: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Ritual Sacrifices, Gore, Mpreg, Body Horror, Monster Fucking, Feminization, Brainwashing

(Link to previous part)

Entering the bar, Steve looked around at the shabby wooden walls and cracked floorboards until his eyes landed on Billy and Tommy drunkenly playing pool. Steve tried to catch their eye and even called out to them, but they ignored him. The pool tables were situated on the furthest wall away from the bar, thankfully, but it did have a dingy yet still functional mirror hung up between the bottled of high-shelf (for this establishment anyway) alcohol, so there was no way they couldn’t see him no matter the angle. He took this to mean that they were actively ignoring him, and he honestly wished his dad had selected better friends for him.

“What a bunch of mouth-breathers,” the bartender said with a disappointed shake of his head.

Objectively good-looking, the bartender had long, dark brown curls that cascaded down his back, framing his lean face to make his chocolate brown eyes pop. A tight t-shirt with the logo of a band that Steve didn’t recognize was stretched across the man’s lean body, displaying every single one of his compact muscles. He wasn’t a name tag, but it wasn’t as Steve needed the other’s name as they wouldn’t be staying much longer in the bar anyway.

Steve strode over to the bar, leaning against the wooden counter with one elbow. The other man didn’t seem to mind and instead grabbed a rag to begin cleaning a few shot glasses in front of him. He didn’t say anything but continued to keep an eye on Billy and Tommy, glowering sourly at the pair as if expecting them to cause trouble.

“If they break anything, I’ll pay for it,” Steve offered sincerely.

“Why are you even friends with them? If you don’t mind me asking, because they seem like more trouble than they’re worth.”

“My dad picked them out for me, believe it or not. It’d be good for the company, is what he said. Improve our investments.”

“Your daddy picked them out? Seriously?” The bartender snorted. “Starting to think those ids they showed me were fake. Aren’t you all grown men?”

“Listen, man, I know. But you don’t know my dad. He can make your life a living Hell if he really sets his mind to it. Easier to just do what he asks.”

“You do something to piss him off then? Only reason I can think of that he’d let you and your friends camp out in these cursed woods.”

“He didn’t pick the location. My friend did. But what do you mean by cursed?”

The bartender raised an eyebrow. “You’re going camping out there, and you don’t even know the story of Hawkins Woods?”

“It’s not like it matters. Curses aren’t real.”

“Isn’t that what everyone in a horror movie says right before they’re killed by the curse they were warned about?”

“That’s in the movies. This is real life.”

With a chuckle, the bartender asked, “Isn’t that what they say in the movies too, though?”

“Fine. Fair enough,” Steve relented. “What’s the story behind Hawkins Woods?”

“Well, you see, it started a few decades ago when the Hellfire Club built a commune just a few miles from here. People began disappearing when they went into the woods, and the ones that didn’t swore that they’d seen a horned being right out of the corner of their eye. They said it was the pagan god that the cult worshiped. Well, the police eventually cracked down on Hellfire, broke the whole thing up, but it only got worse. Instead of disappearances, people were dying, bodies mutilated beyond recognition. Thus, everyone in these parts believe that the Hellfire Club put a curse on these woods and that their god still walks between the trees.”

Frowning, Steve turned the story over in his head. He didn’t remember everything about the Hellfire Club, but he hadn’t thought that they were anywhere close to its location, especially since his dad wouldn’t have wanted to be within the cult’s reach, meaning he would’ve said something if the area was too close. On the other hand, the bartender had no reason to lie to him. What did the man have to gain by making him believe the cult was nearby? He guessed it could be a prank, but it wasn’t a funny one if it was.

“Listen, great story, but that’s all it is, a story.” Steve pushed himself away from the counter. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go collect my friends.”

“What friends?”

Steve opened his mouth to answer, but he looked up to see that the mirror no longer reflect Billy and Tommy. Glancing over his shoulder confirmed to Steve that they weren’t there anymore, which didn’t make sense. Even if they didn’t tell him they were leaving, he thought that he would’ve at least heard them since the two were never the quite type of drunks. He didn’t feel panicked, though. In fact, he actually felt relieved.

Billy was an asshole, and Tommy always sided with him since the jerk muscled his way into their group. Steve’s dad said that Billy was “assertive” and had a ruthlessness to him that he said Steve lacked, which was why he didn’t have a nose for business like the others. The comparison always irked Steve since he didn’t see how screwing people over or bullying them made someone a good business partner.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Who needs them?”

Hearing the bartender speak, Steve returned his attention to him only to find that his form was now twisting, growing larger until he was eerily looming over Steve. Branched, deer-like antlers crept out from underneath the other man’s curly hair while his clothes changed into robes that seemed to be made out of shadows. Then, through the darkness, a deathly pale hand nestled against Steve’s cheek, caressing it while he forced Steve to stare up into his fully black eyes.

It was then that Steve realized what was going on, and he leaned into the touch before he breathlessly whispered, “Eddie.”

Part 1.2 ~ Masterpost ~ Part 1.4

#show: stranger things #steddie #my fics #mygodlongsforme #dead dove do not eat #make certain to read the trigger warnings!#anon prompt

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neonacity · 9 months

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Elysium Ch.1: The Beginning of the End

Summary: What do you get when demigods are sent to the human realm as punishment for wreaking havoc on Olympus? Chaos. And a whole lot of trouble the mundane world is probably not ready to face, ever.

PROLOGUE: The Beginning

DRABBLES: Son of Shadows (JENO) | Of Love & Lust (JAEMIN)

NOTE: I know Percy Jackson has picked up again with its new series, but despite some similarities, this fic is not inspired by the lore. I have never read any of the books. All real people mentioned in the story are only my uses. I do not imply any likeness between them and my characters. A lot of the concepts from the original mythology might also be changed to fit the plot. I do not allow any of my works to be shared anywhere else. I only have Tumblr.

*******

“Say you’re given a chance to sit down with any deity and just talk to them for five minutes, who would you choose?”

You crinkled your nose and peered at your best friend from the comfort of the faded bean bag you are slumped on. The room was warm and the weather was making your eyelids droop, but you managed to shift a little on your seat to look at the boy who was currently playing self-catch by throwing a baseball against the wall. Yangyang looked equally bored as he flicked his wrist lazily with ease.

“Should it be a deity?”

“Well, yeah. It’s not like you see them every day.”

“You don’t get to see Princess Diana every day. Or Beyonce.”

Yangyang gave a snort.

“Beyonce’s still alive, Nugget.”

You reached out for the closest cushion pillow and threw it at the boy who effortlessly ducked to avoid it. You glared, but he simply laughed to brush you off.

“My point is that, why ask for a deity if there are aspiring people who I can get a chance to talk to?”

“Do you really hate the gods that much,” Yangyang asked with a slight frown creasing the top of his nose.

“Do you really love them that much, Beep?”

Now, it was his turn to scoff at the mention of his childhood nickname. Yangyang rolled his eyes before fully turning on his seat to face you.

“For someone who studies at Rosewood, you treat the celestial world with so much irony.”

That made you pause. Rosewood Institute… An academy that had centuries of history riding on its back. In the eyes of the world, it is a regular boarding school, albeit a shadowy one. For the chosen—or as what they call it—it is a fort that means so much more than any earthly concept.

Rosewood Institute is the frontier in the mortal world that serves as the learning nest of demigods and half-bloods.

Half-deities and children of anyone connected to the world beyond all pass through the halls of the school. While humanity has since moved on and cut ties with their connection to the gods, their legacy remains and walks among them secretly under shadows. The only exception from the half-bloods housed within the academy were the 'darlings of Olympus,' namely the children of the big honchos residing in Elysium itself.

For many, being a part of the community of demigods is a badge they wear with pride.

Well, except for you.

You don’t want to call it hatred, but as the daughter of a humble forest nymph, you stand in a place that still puts you in the viewpoint of someone destined to look up to those with ‘bigger lineages.’ Alas, big names can come with big egos, and so it has tarnished the way you live your life at the Institute every single day.

You slumped back in your seat now and stared at the dusty, aged ceiling of the room you and Yangyang call the Journalism Club. You wished his question was rhetoric, but the hanging silence told you that he is actually expecting an answer.

“I am just not all hot and excited about it. You already know why.”

Your best friend sighed. The sound of a ball bouncing against the wall started again from his side.

“Not all of them are bad, you know.”

“I’m not saying anyone is ba—”

The crashing sound of something heavy, followed by the shattering boom of breaking glass made you stop. Pulling yourself up from your seat in panic, you stared in shock at Yangyang who also looked frozen from surprise. It didn’t take long for the both of you to get what was happening, and soon enough, you were both scrambling out of the room without another word.

Scratch that. Every single one of these demigods ARE trouble.

*******

“What on earth is going on here?!” The billowing smoke from the room made you cough out your words as you barged through the door. You couldn’t see way past a few feet from the dust that was still settling, but you could make out moving shapes from behind the smoke screen. You squinted hard to make out what was happening when you saw an arm shoot out of nowhere to grab at something.

“What the hell, Haechan. You said you knew what you were doing!”

A few coughs came a little ways from your right.

“I was, I swear! I followed everything that was written in the book.”

“If you did, then how come you blew up half of the room?!”

“I might have read one of the words wrong—”

“You what?!”

“I'm dyslexic, okay!”

You blinked away the sting that was already making you start to tear up to properly make out what was in front of you. Now with more of the dust settled, you could finally put a face on the voices.

Huang Renjun, son of Ares, the God of War.

And Lee Haechan, child of Athena, the Goddess of Wisdom and Warfare.

Both locked up in what seemed to be a deathly grip—well, with more of the latter being strangled by the former.

“I am going to kick your a—”

“Hey. Stop. Is everyone okay?”

You jumped a little as a sudden creak came off from the corner followed by the sudden burst of light into the room. Somebody had enough sense to open a window, which made the rest of the smoke finally escape outside. Standing beside it was a boy with blonde hair that almost glowed like the sunlight.

Mark Lee. The heir of Zeus, ruler of the sky… and the God of all Gods.

“We’re good. But I don’t think the room is,” a dark-haired boy answered on behalf of the group as he toed a fallen chunk of plank from the ceiling. He turned it over with his booted foot, which only made the wood break into pieces again.

“You think? Everything is scorched off. I liked this room. Now we have to—oh… hello there, Princess.”

“Uh-oh…” Haechan whispered under his breath as he pushed back his skewed glasses up his nose bridge. Renjun, despite himself, finally let go of the other’s collar as his eyes shifted towards the other three. Mark cleared his throat and reached out to scratch the back of his neck, so instead you turned to the only two boys who are yet to avoid your withering look.

You froze in your place and glared at the other boy with silver platinum hair who smiled sweetly at you from where he stood. Upon his greeting, everyone in the group turned to look at you, as if it was their first time to notice you there.

Lee Jeno, son of Hades, God of the Underworld; and Na Jaemin, beloved child of Aphrodite, Goddess of Love and Beauty; looked like the poster children of light and shadows. Their current expressions drove the imagery well, too.

“Can somebody tell me why half the room melted off?” You asked through gritted teeth, your eyes boring holes at Jaemin who was still smiling so pleasantly at you—a fact that, to be honest, only made your blood boil more.

“Haechan tried to make a spell that he got from one of the books in the library. He… wanted to make the room cooler,” Jeno answered.

“What do you mean ‘he’? You were all in on the act too! Didn’t you say the heat here was much worse than Uncle Hades’ second circle of the Underworld?!” The brown-haired boy in question bristled.

“Book? What book?” Yangyang, who had run after you, but was too shocked to speak before, echoed from behind. Renjun shifted a little guiltily on his feet.

“Well about that…”

“He got it from the Restricted Section,” Jaemin said, still looking unbothered about everything.

You felt seconds away from an aneurysm.

“You mean he stole it?” You emphasized the word as you shifted your gaze to the thief in question. Haechan slightly frowned and looked away.

“I just borrowed it.. “

“You are not allowed to borrow it, let alone touch it. That’s why it is in the Restricted Section!”

“We weren’t even supposed to use it, but Renjun and the rest—”

“Me?!”

“Is it really not possible to have any of you stay out of trouble for at least one day?!”

You wish you were overreacting, but you couldn't really be as close to the truth as you are. In fact, you are almost ready to sacrifice Yangyang's blood just to go back to the time before the 'golden heirs' of Olympus stepped foot into your life.

It had almost been a month since the boys arrived in Rosewood. As the chosen heirs of their godly parents, they stayed in their respective domains to be trained and raised differently from the rest. When news broke that they were banished temporarily to the mortal realm as punishment for a gaffe, the Academy was thrown into excitement and chaos—well, mostly chaos from your perspective.

You’ve been wanting to know what it is exactly that these men did to be exiled from Olympus, but to be honest, they have also been keeping you up almost every single day with their antics. It’s almost like trouble is always hovering around them, and since then, you have never known peace.

“We apologize. We really didn’t mean it this time. We were just trying to learn new things,” Mark, the eldest of the group, told you placatingly. You turned to look at him with your lips in a tight line.

“This is a school for the demigods, Mr. Lee. Not Hogwarts. You can’t try spells here.”

Jaemin frowned, his curiosity genuine.

“What’s Hogwarts?”

“You can try spells there?” Haechan seconded.

“To the office, all of you,” you said as you pinched the bridge of your nose. You have just turned on your heel when someone else stepped into the room, his eyes silently roaming the mess stretched out in front of him.

Mark straightened at the sight of the man. You did the same, slight surprise marking your features.

“Headmaster.”

“Papa?”

Your father, looking the least bit troubled by the mess, turned to give all of you a smile.

“Hello kids, it seems like you are having quite an interesting afternoon.”

“Sir, we can explain—”

“They used a spell to—!”

Both you and Mark stopped mid-sentence as he raised a hand.

“I’d love to know the full story, but for now I need to talk to all of you. Can you all please come to my office?”

*******

The boys looked around silently as they settled on their seats at the Headmaster’s office. You, not being a stranger to the place anymore, sat on the closest one to your father’s table, your fingers fidgeting slightly on your side. The man in front was peacefully making coffee as if he has not a care in the world, but you could sense in the air in the room that something was up. That was the thing about your father. Nothing ever seems to ruffle him up.

You know, having been raised by him in the walls of the Institute himself since you were a kid. Even before you officially became a student here, you have seen the way he had handled all kinds of matters in Rosewood. After all, being the Headmaster of one of the select places in the mortal world where the offspring of gods and otherworldly creatures reside does come with its fair share of trouble.

“Is something the matter?” You braved to ask the question that everyone in the room was itching to voice out. He turned to all of you with a smile and lifted the coffee pot he just finished brewing.

“Coffee, anyone?”

You and Mark caught each other’s gazes before slightly shaking your heads. The rest did the same.

“Mm. More for me then,” your father murmured more to himself with a chuckle as he settled behind the ancient-looking oak table. You all watched nervously as he took his time to sip on his drink. The whole room seemed to be holding its breath. Off on your other side, Haechan seems on the verge of chewing his fingers off.

“Papa—”

“We might have to temporarily close off Rosewood,” the Headmaster said to gently cut you off. You froze, processing what he just said for a few seconds. You expected everything, except for this.

“What??”

“There has been a little bit of trouble brewing in the borders of our world and Elysium. Today, I am going to make an announcement that students and their families have the choice to go home or stay here if they want.”

None of what he is saying makes sense. Beside you, the boys looked paler under the light.

“What do you mean we are closing down Rosewood? We never close the Institute ever!” You blurted out, unable to keep yourself quiet anymore.

“We have never done it, yes, darling. But this time, the case is a little bit different,” the man replied to you kindly and under control still. He then turned to his other visitors with the same even temperament.

“I have been in touch with all of your parents to tell them about the changes in the Academy. They are yet to give me their answer as to when you will go back to Olympus.”

Mark fidgeted a little on his seat and gave the boys beside him a quick look.

“Uhm… About that…”

“Can you at least tell us what’s happening?” You said through gritted teeth as you turned to your father again. The man in question paused a little as if to study you… weighing whether to answer your question or not. Finally, he leaned back against his seat and removed his wire-framed glasses.

“Several places in the mortal world had been under attack. Monsters and beasts have been roaming the place. The celestial army has been keeping the cases down, but we expect the events to… grow.”

That is the second time you were speechless today. You felt your palms turn cold as you stared at him, mouth open. The headmaster met all of your gazes evenly, his usually warm facade finally showing a glimpse of the seriousness of the situation.

“What…”

“Tartarus is collapsing on itself and the world, I’m afraid, is not ready for it.”

Your heart dropped to your stomach.

Tartarus, the deepest place of the Underworld.

Tartarus…

The prison of the gods’ greatest enemies.

You stared breathlessly at your father until something clicked. Slowly, you turned to the boys sitting beside you who seemed to have turned to stone. One look and you knew. One look and the question was drawn automatically from your lips.

A/N: Look who's back... I know I haven't been active in this account for months, but 2024 is literally just a few hours away and I wanted to close the year (and hopefully start the new one) by picking up writing again. I have no promises, but I hope this little chapter can do its magic. Happy New Year, everyone!

“You… What have you all done?”

*******

#mark nct x reader #mark x reader #nct dream fanfic #nct dream angst #nct dream imagines #jaemin x reader #jeno x reader #renjun x reader #nct demigod au #nct fic

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ofliterarynature · 3 months

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TBR TAKEDOWN: Week 4 (June 23)

TLDR: I have too many unread books, and I’m asking tumblr to help me downsize. Pick one or none, and comment if you can - a convincing sentence is worth a dozen votes! You’re also welcome to just choose the one that sounds the worst :D Book descriptions below the cut, see my pinned post for more info.

Stars Uncharted by S.K. Dunstall

Three people who are not who they claim to be:

Nika Rik Terri, body modder extraordinaire, has devoted her life to redesigning people's bodies right down to the molecular level. Give her a living body and a genemod machine, and she will turn out a work of art.

Josune Arriola is crew on the famous explorer ship the Hassim, whose memory banks contain records of unexplored worlds worth a fortune. But Josune and the rest of the crew are united in their single-minded pursuit of the most famous lost planet of all.

Hammond Roystan, the captain of the rival explorer ship, The Road, has many secrets. Some believe one of them is the key to finding the lost world.

Josune's captain sends her to infiltrate Roystan's ship, promising to follow. But when the Hassim exits nullspace close to Roystan's ship, it's out of control, the crew are dead, and unknown Company operatives are trying to take over. Narrowly escaping and wounded, Roystan and Josune come to Nika for treatment--and with problems of her own, she flees with them after the next Company attack.

Now they're in a race to find the lost world...and stay alive long enough to claim the biggest prize in the galaxy.

A Prince Without a Kingdom by Timothée de Fombelle

(description taken from book #1, Between Sky and Earth)

A breathless adventure from international award winner Timothée de Fombelle charts a desperate search for identity across the vast expanses of Europe.

In a world between wars, a young man on the cusp of taking priestly vows is suddenly made a fugitive. Fleeing the accusations of police who blame him for a murder, as well as more sinister forces with darker intentions, Vango attempts to trace the secrets of his shrouded past and prove his innocence before all is lost. As he crisscrosses the continent via train, boat, and even the Graf Zeppelin airship, his adventures take him from Parisian rooftops to Mediterranean islands to Scottish forests. A mysterious, unforgettable, and romantic protagonist, Vango tells a thrilling story sure to captivate lovers of daring escapades and subversive heroes.

The Dark Days Club by Alison Goodman

London, April 1812.

On the eve of eighteen-year-old Lady Helen Wrexhall’s presentation to the queen, one of her family’s housemaids disappears-and Helen is drawn into the shadows of Regency London. There, she meets Lord Carlston, one of the few who can stop the perpetrators: a cabal of demons infiltrating every level of society. Dare she ask for his help, when his reputation is almost as black as his lingering eyes? And will her intelligence and headstrong curiosity wind up leading them into a death trap?

#y’know looking at these I think I have my answer #but I’m not going to spoil it this time and make you guess lol #bec posts #tbr takedown #books #booklr #bookblr #poll #stars uncharted #sk dunstall #a Prince without a kingdom #Timothée de Fombelle #the dark days club #Alison Goodman #from instagram #bookish

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allamericanfinalgirl · 2 months

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folklore

The battlefield was no longer visible in Gawain’s background when he crossed the threshold of a dark forest, dismounting at the stream so that Gryngelot may drink; Gawain led the horse to the water and then leaned down and cupped his worn hands together.

Before Gawain could drink, he felt the sharp point of a dagger pressed into his neck too late. A thief stood behind him; Gawain sensed another to his left with a club.

No words were exchanged.

The situation was clear. Gawain hurried to mount Gryn, but the sound of a bowstring stopped him dead in his tracks at the sight of the scavenger from the battlefield appearing in the copse of trees.

Gawain raised his hands in surrender, and the two thieves rushed him, kicking his legs out from under him, seizing his underarms, and forcing Gawain to his knees.

The scavenger reached behind Gawain's ear, pulled out the coin that Gawain gave him, and then flipped it in the air. “Weren't enough.” He gestured to Gawain's chest as the thief with the dagger pulled Gawain's knapsack from his shirt and cut the cord that held it around his neck.

The prince tried to escape, but the thief jammed the dagger back against his throat as the other thief with the club went to Gryngelot and began to untie the saddlebags, pulling the sword out of Gawain's scabbard and throwing it to the scavenger.

The Scavenger looked it up and down; he looked pleased to see such a fine weapon as he tossed it to the thief, who held it to Gawain's neck along with the dagger.

—

“I want auroras and sad prose,” A gentle voice’s song carried through the dark forest; A young woman in a simple white shift dress sat in the middle of her forest, worn hands holding a bowl to collect the sweet syrup that flowed out from the inside of the large tree she sat underneath, it’s large, colored leaves catching in her wild curls.

“I want to watch wisteria grow over my bare feet,“ The sound of pained cries filled the forest, slowing the witch’s song. “‘Cause I haven’t moved in years-“

“Please.”

“Please?”

A chorus of cruel laughter and taunts echoed from downstream that Kavya began to follow curiously, interest piqued as three silhouettes in the distance took on more detail the closer they came to her; A man in a persimmon-colored cloak was being hauled forcibly down the riverbank by highway thieves.

Kavya could watch in plain sight; she remained unseen to men’s eyes from the curse over the forest that kept her there.

The man in the persimmon cloak’s chest rose and fell with panic as he begged frantically with the thieves.

“You said you weren't a knight.” The scavenger accused with an upturned nose as the dark-haired man repeatedly tried to get to his feet.

“I’m not!” The dark-haired man cried, shaking his head frantically. “I’m not a knight!”

“-But you said you were.”

“I never said I was a knight,” Kavya couldn’t help but pity the man as his words tumbled over each other as he panted between panicked breaths. “You said I was a knight; I never said-“

“Smells like a knight.” The thief with the club inhaled deeply into the man’s hair as the scavenger lifted his dagger to rest upon his now tear-stained cheek, dragging it down his face until it clinked against the chainmail that stretched across his broad chest.

The scavenger then wandered over to the horse, passing Kavya by as if she did not exist; he saw an axe handle, grunting he tried to pick it up, but his attempts were in vain; motioning for his thief friend with the club to help him.

They try to move it together but cannot, while the man watches, knowing there is nothing he can do.

“Just tell me then,” The dark-haired man looked over his shoulder with tearful eyes, “Is there a really chapel?” The scavenger laughed and gestured to the trees, the stones,

the creek itself, the man’s eyes run over it all before resting on Kavya with a horrified expression.

Gawain was silenced, stripped of his armor, and bound at wrists and his mouth; The scavenger tied a rope around Gryngelot's saddle, trying to use him to pull the axe.

It didn’t seem to be working. Kavya frowned at the poor horse that may as well have gotten tied to a post. The horse’s owner struggled and screamed through his gag to warn them of the woman watching in the trees, but the thieves paid him no mind.

The sun moved lower in the sky. Shadows grew longer. The man was still bound but no longer struggling, having worn himself out. ‘The knots are too well tied.’ Kavya thought, waiting for the sun to set before she began to hunt.

Breathlessly panting through his gag, the man watched hopelessly as the thieves tried to pick the jewels out of the axe now, and it seemed not to be working.

Crickets were chirping as the sun sank into a redness past the trees.

The night was coming, and the man was now alone, still tied up, lying very still, axe laid on the ground; The thieves never managed to take it.

The horse grazed nearby; He looked at Gawain, then Kavya, and then wandered away, heading downstream and out of sight with the mystery woman following.

Gawain realized with a sinking feeling that he was now entirely abandoned. Despaired, he threw his head back, quite nearly weeping through his gag, thinking about his fate out there in the woods with the woman in the trees waiting.

—

Kavya followed a trail of fallen coins into the forest; Familiar voices grew louder as she came upon the two thieves and the scavenger, slowly walking up behind the brunette boy as he addressed his peers.

“I think I’ll finish his quest from here.” The scavenger said with a proud grin that slowly turned into a pained frown as he struggled to crane his neck to the left. To the horror of the two thieves, The scavenger’s neck began to bleed a waterfall down his chest as twin blood trails dripped from his eyeballs and nose.

The scavenger mindlessly reached out for the thieves, whose screams echoed in the forest as the fall of his corpse revealed a woman in a dress, smiling and dark eyes sparkling as she wiped the blood from her mouth and opened her mouth wide to reveal rows and rows of sharp teeth.

—

Meanwhile, Gawain was terrified of what the future might hold for him if he did not break free; A vision of his skeleton rotting throughout the seasons compelled him with newfound vigor, and he rallied his strength once more.

Laid there on his belly, panting, Gawain sees the axe; an idea occurs to him as he begins to squirm his way along the ground.

It's slow going, and Gawain knows he looks like an inchworm, flopping his way toward the axe; He makes it there and positions his body so the rope on his wrists catches ever so slightly on the axe blade and begins to rub the binding back and forth against the sharp edge, rope fraying until he sliced from the top of his thumb right down to his wrist.

Gawain cried out in pain, and it sounded unlike himself; blood gushed out, pooling in the dirt; recovering from the pain and working at it, Gawain heard a woman’s scream, followed by two more.

Finally, Gawain’s hands went free; he sat up

and squeezed his torn-open thumb. Again, that same woman’s scream made his blood run cold as he stumbled through the woods, following the burbling sounds of the stream as he looked for his horse.

Rapid footsteps made Gawain’s head snap up in fear as the two thieves came running toward him, screaming and crying like children as they rushed past him; the thief with the club ran head-on into a tree, his face connecting with the bark with a sickening thud as he collapsed to the ground, still and silent.

Heart pounding in his ears, Gawain’s slowly turned in the opposite direction to see what had made the thieves flee in such a manner; The same woman, who had endlessly long black curls, twisted and moved her body in a way Gawain had never seen.

The chudail reached her arms out as if she were beckoning someone into an embrace and inhaled deeply, throwing her fists down to let out that same scream that caused the thief, still on the run, to fall to his knees and shriek in agony, smacking his head repeatedly on the ground until he fell limp and silent like his friend.

The night that had fallen was dark and wet and cold.

The trees loomed like shadows around Gawain; He heard twigs snapping and the occasional growl.

A mist rose from the ground, lit by the light from an invisible moon; Gawain suddenly froze. Every hair on his body stood straight up.

A woman’s voice, softer now, humming a melody, mixing into the wind that led to a clearing and a bubbling spring,

Kavya slowed at the sight of the man in the persimmon cloak, Clutching his arms around himself for warmth; the axe clutched under his arm, his hand tied with what once was his gag, blood spilled all over himself.

‘Why is he not afflicted by me?’ Kavya wondered how he had ended up this way, hauled alongside the river with a head wound upon his forehead, seemingly immune to her magic as she tried to unleash another piercing scream upon him.

Gawain struggled to catch his breath, staring at the messy silhouette that looked back at him, blurred even more by the thin branches of the dark forest around them. “What are you?” He cried out, holding his axe out in fear.

Leaping back, Kavya concealed herself in the shadow of a nearby tree, holding her breath and reaching her hands up to cup her throat in confusion. ‘Have I lost my power?’ She began plucking her fingers in the open air as if playing the harp.

Gawain felt light-headed as his world went upright, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he fell unconscious. Kavya glanced around the forest for safety, wondering where this mystery man was traveling.

Briefly considering disappearing back to her cottage, Kavya dared to peer over her shoulder to try and make out the state of the vagabond, breathing a sigh of relief when it became apparent he would not awake any time soon.

A sigh left Kavya’s lips the longer she admired the man and his sharp, scruff-covered jaw and full lips, watching him with morbid fascination as she ventured further to stroke his mud-stained cheek gently. ‘He won’t last long with an injury like that,’ Kavya noted the dark blood patch covering his left temple.

Unable to keep down her curiosities, Kavya knelt beside the man’s head, letting her hand trail from the side of his dirtied face down to his torn tunic, revealing the bare expanse of his broad chest.

Splaying her hand across his dark skin, Kavya leaned forward until her cheek was pressed against his warm chest, dark curls falling over him as she held her breath to hear his heartbeat.

‘God,’ Kavya ran her finger down the length of the man’s large body, smiling when he did not stir as she draped herself across him and inhaled until his scent filled her senses, falling into the leaves and stretching out like a cat as she laid herself across him once more. ‘What are you?’ He was wholly male, but he wasn’t human; he felt like her.

Firmly patting the ground twice with an open palm, the man’s horse emerged from the dark, kneeling beside his master for Kavya to drag atop the horse’s back and take him into the pitch black of the forest.

—-

Two hands placing a cool rag on Gawain's forehead, and crackling fire and the smell of pine roused Gawain from his deep slumber, groaning as he braced his hand against the small cot he laid upon and pushed himself upright despite the ringing in his ears that told him to lie for a moment longer.

Looking down at himself, Gawain found he had been washed and dressed in clean bedclothes and tucked beneath the covers of a small cot in a candle-lit room.

Gawain ran a hand down his face; memory slowly returned to him as he looked around the cottage he found himself in; its walls were hewn together by various twigs and branches with bundles of sage hanging from them, and a large fireplace underneath a black, bubbling cauldron.

Rising too quickly, Gawain cursed and held his head when his forehead knocked against the ceiling. “Damn it.” His voice was hoarse, causing him to look for-

A relieved gasp left the prince’s lips as he seized a nearby bucket of water, not bothering with a spoon or cup as he downed its contents, even as water dripped down his tunic and soaked his beard.

Looking ahead, Gawain saw a door, realizing he was in a hut. Reaching out his right hand, Gawain paused when he saw it unmarked; his wound from cutting himself on his blade was gone, and his skin unblemished as if it had never happened.

Pressing an open palm against the door, it swung open to reveal the hut was a large stone cottage; an opening in the center lets the smoke from the fire in the center of the room escape.

Gawain glanced around as if he had been here before; Jars and pottery lined the shelves, filled with all manner of chemicals and liquids and other unsightly things.

The wooden bucket in his hands fell to the floor with a loud clatter as Gawain began to back away in shock at the sight of a chudail in the doorway. Beautiful, a woman of indeterminate age immediately, her eyes zero in on Gawain as if she had been expecting him.

Convinced that this chudail would snuff out his life, Gawain backed into the corner of the cottage with his broad shoulders squished against the narrow space and the woman peering up at him with an almost curious expression.

“You should sit.” Unable to speak, the chudail looked at him and motioned for him to enter. “You took a nasty fall,” Her voice was soft and gentle, a strange relief to Gawain after weeks of mistrust and exhaustion.

“The thieves broke this.” The chudail held up his broken shield, intricately painted by his sisters the night before Gawain took his leave from Camelot.

Gawain’s dark eyes locked on the axe, set down upon a long wooden table and unwrapped. The chudail leaned in close to the blade, putting her ear to it; it hummed strangely. “Like a tuning fork whose one note does not decay.” She rested her cheek against the cool metal; her curls splayed across it as she looked up at Gawain with sparkling dark eyes. “I hear no hex.”

Gawain was at a loss for words from this woman, there were a million questions on his mind, but the one that left his lips was not what he meant or expected. “Why did you take me from my quest?” The prince's tone came out in the tiny cottage, filling the space like a hot air balloon.

“I meant no harm.” The excited smile fell away from the witch. “You were bleeding on the forest floor,” Her curls fell on her face, voice shrank. “You would have died had I left you there.”

The anger faded from Gawain’s demeanor when the young witch began to rub circles into her palms, contrasting with the wraith he had witnessed in the forest. “You can leave,” she softly whispered, turning her face away.

Gawain would not admit it aloud, but after his brush with death, he was less eager to return to the forest and realized upsetting the woman, witch or not, was not the wise option for him.

“I am a traveler,” The prince in disguise furrowed his dark brows, “I have lost my way.”

Dark eyes widened in surprise, and Kavya’s head snapped up with a shocked expression “…What?” she questioned, surprised when he sat down beside her, clearing his throat and adjusting his chair. “Camelot. My home.” He explained, hoping the same charm he had used to bed Essel would aid him now. “I left it to go on a quest and have been led astray.”

“You must be exhausted.” The witch frowned sympathetically, resting her hand on his bruised arm. “Please sleep through the night, and I will give you safe passage out of the forest in the morning.”

The traveler nodded, suddenly bashful as he struggled to bow without upsetting his aches and pains. “I am Gawain.”

“I am Kavya.” The chudail bowed low to the floor, her handkerchief-like skirts splaying around her. “I am the witch of this forest.” She walked back to the room Gawain had awoken in, finding it magically remade and ready for him to rest. “I will be out here if you need anything.”

Kavya smiled as they bid each other goodnight, and she got into her bed, hugging her blanket and pretending it was Gawain. “Goodnight,” she bit her lip before speaking again, “Gawain.”

“Goodnight, Kavya.” Came Gawain’s voice from across the cottage; The witch had to tuck her face into her pillow to muffle an elated sound from hearing her name on Gawain’s tongue.

—

The bacon hissed as it met the hot pan; two more pieces joined it as soft humming began to fill the cottage, the sun rising and warming the small space.

Without looking, Kavya reached out to pluck two eggs from a nearby basket, cracking them against each other and opening the shells to empty their contents in the pan next to the bacon, her homemade spices sprinkled in between them.

The scent carried behind her to where Gawain lay asleep, rousing him from his slumber when one dark eye opened to take in his surroundings, reminding himself this was not home.

If this were his home, Gawain supposed the cottage wasn’t the worst place to be, primarily if it housed pretty girls who made him breakfast. “Good morning!” Kavya greeted cheerfully from her crouched position by the hearth. “I made breakfast,” she gestured outside. “Gryn has carrots, so you do not travel on empty stomachs.”

Gawain raised a dark brow. He did not remember telling the witch his horse’s name or nickname. Kavya winced when Gawain rose too quickly and hit his head on the top of the cottage, grumbling to himself as he sat beside her and began to dig in, realizing he had not had a hot meal, certainly not a home-cooked one, in a very long while.

“You do not have to tip-toe around me the way you do, you know.” Kavya gently chided the young man when he tensed after she moved to take her to drink, then reached out to pat his knee and swipe his remaining piece of bacon in the same gesture. “I promise not to bite.” She said with a teasing grin as she bit down on the meat, revealing rows of lovely sharpened teeth that Gawain found oddly alluring.

Gawain sat on the edge of a well as Kavya scooped water from a bucket with a gourd; she took a sip and then handed it to him, watching Gawain intently as his dark eyes wandered over the shelves that held her books. “Do you like poems?” She asked, rising and plucking a weathered blue text between a green and red one, holding it out to Gawain like a prize.

“I tried to.” Gawain shrugged, never one for hobbies such as reading or academics, more inclined to hunting or swordsmanship.

Kavya raised an unconvincing brow, a grin on the corner of her mouth. “Do you even know how to read?” She could not help but laugh at the incredulous look that crossed Gawain’s features.

“Of course I do!” Gawain became more flustered when his voice rose an octave higher, crossing his arms defensively and turning his face away like a displeased child. Opening one eye, his gaze drifted to a bemused Kavya. “Do I look like I don't?”

Kavya shrugged her exposed shoulders as if to say: ‘Maybe.’ “Tell me something,” She shifted closer to Gawain and propped her elbows atop the knees of her dress. “If you are a knight, and a knight is chivalrous above all else, why do you lie?”

“I am no knight.” Kavya nodded; it seemed to be this man’s favorite word. “So you say,” She toyed with her curls, trying to appear nonchalant. “Do you have a bride? Back home, where you came?”

Gawain immediately shook his head. “No. Maybe someday.” The image of Essel rose in his mind, and Kavya caught it in his face. “A lady?”

“At one time, yes.”

Kavya nodded knowingly. “So you do know something of love.” The prince became uncomfortable by the subject of questioning.

“A little.” Gawain finally looked at the witch for the first time; he couldn’t help admiring her willowy frame, the way her dress hung from her like a handkerchief, her long curls trailed to the ground but did not seem to bother her as Kavya pushed her hair back, giving him a good view of her sweet face and endlessly dark eyes. “Surely you know more of love than me,” He gestured to her, “Than a hundred of me.

Kavya threw her head back and laughed, the sweet sound filling the forest as she leaned far back over the well and placed a hand over her heart. “A hundred of you? What a scourge upon the land that would be.”

Reaching out, Kavya took Gawain’s face in both hands. “Come here.” With her thumb, she casually wiped the water from his lips; she then turned his head to the left and then to the right as if inspecting him.

“I suppose this is goodbye.” Gawain suddenly rose, adjusting his cloak, trying to come off as the traveler he had made himself to be to the witch despite the many signs he was not.

Kavya frowned and looked down at her intertwined hands, “I suppose it is.” She replied in a melancholy tone, looking out into the lonely forest she would be a part of once more.

The traveler in disguise couldn’t leave, as if his boots were stuck on the forest floor, and the strangest part of it all was that after all Gawain had witnessed Kavya do, he did not want to go.

“Thank you. Again.” Gawain bowed respectfully to the witch but did not waver from his spot, his fingers still looped loosely around Gryn’s reins. “I fear your hospitality will be too hard to leave.”

Kavya nodded, confused as to what was holding the man back, as he seemed so eager to take his leave only hours ago. “Can I see you again?” Her head snapped up from where she had been idly stroking Gryngolot’s mane, dark eyes widening with growing excitement.

Gawain avoided her gaze, unfamiliar to someone so pleased by his presence.

“Yes!” Kavya covered her mouth with her hands when her elated reply echoed through the forest, scaring a few birds. “Please, come back.” She smiled and smoothed out her skirts, pulling her hair over her shoulder to toy nervously with her curls. “I would like that very much.”

Nodding in agreement, Gawain hoisted himself upon Grin and looked back at the witch with a worried look. “How do I find you again?” Kavya only flashed him a mischievous grin as she began to back away into the arms of the forest.

“You will.”

#oc #dev patel #mine #writing #writing on tumblr #sir gawain #the green knight #the green knight 2021 #sir gawain and the green knight #tgk (2021)#bulbbul #tripti dimri #one thing about me ?? one thing about me; i LOVE a damsel in distress #and the Love Death and Robots episode Jibaro #the green knight script by david lowery was a HUGE inspiration #also inspired by If I Can’t Have Love I Want Power by Halsey #the green knight x bubbul when #my writing

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livealittleoc-cb · 1 year

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The Magics Spell 🪄 [Daily Tasks]

[Greyson on a typical day likes to rearrange his bookshelves a lot, if they’re not by color code, they’re alphabetically organized. He always has a new organization for his books he can’t choose.]

🐉: *placing another pile of books down* Time to arrange all of these books~ *pops his back* ugh but how is the real question now…

[Emilia always has a new recipe in mind be it for potions, enchanted syrups and foods or new spells to try. She’s constantly at her brewery when she’s not working at Club Luna!]

🍹: Hmm…some strawberries, blueberries and raspberries from the enchanted forest should be good~ *smiles writing stuff down and mixing some herbs*

[Jooheon is always writing or working. His textbooks have annotations, any book he’s reading for fun has annotations and any book for work has annotations. Annotating is important and necessary to him to keep him organized so it’s become a daily task and habit.]

✨: So he wasn’t at the crime scene before the crime… *writes something down while mumbling* Then where was he?! *blinks looking down at his book, pushing his reading glasses up*

[When not at the Weather Tower Diego is the designated babysitter in his family and family friends. He understands Ari’s struggles the most whenever he gets asked my his aunts to take care of his baby cousins.]

☔️: Heyyy! Antonio! Stop running, you’re going to slip and fall! *sighs jogging after the baby* I made you puddles to jump in not run, cariño!~ *picks up the baby*

💧: *squeals with a laugh and giggle*

[Bonnie when not at work she’s in her greenhouse taking care of her baby plants and making sure they’re all big and strong. Being half a forest nymph being surrounded my plants is also a good energy boost for her in the long run!]

🌱: Come on now you wee little plant baby, I need you to stand straight and tall *tying a bean sprout plant with a stick to keep it up tall* Now m’eudail [my darling] I’m going to water you~ *walks to get a watering can*

[Leo goes to the gym every single day but normally he mostly does weights or sparring. It’s a bit more mandatory or royal guards to go to the gym constantly but Leo also just enjoys going to keep in shape. He picked up boxing along the way and now it’s become apart of his daily routine.]

🎐: *stretching his neck as he lets out a breath* Gods I should have stretched more before starting… *grumbles as he starts re-taping his hands*

[Ace is on a daily bases doing Cupid duties but when he’s not he’s in his tailoring shop! He enjoys sewing and making outfits so he’s constantly there making new clothing patterns, looking at new fabrics and making himself outfits!]

♥️: Hmm! *bounces while switching between fabrics on the mannequin* I think this dress calls for some nice white silks and tulle! *runs off to get more fabric*

[Skyler is a gallery artist along with being an illustrator and comic artist, he also likes doing graffiti art on his free time. He’s typically working on things for gallery showcases and exhibitions so he can be found in his studio painting unless his epilepsy is triggered. He sings a lot when working and sounds like a literal angel.]

☁️: *cleaning off his paintbrushes while singing to himself*

[Marci is constantly at work. They’re always chasing the bag and will always be found at the hair salon they work at!~]

🕯️: *blow drying a customer’s hair* You’re looking so pretty! The dye you got today fits you so perfectly dear!

[Being a princess Lelani has a lot of stuff to do which includes a lot of fancy gatherings with other kingdoms, big fluffy dresses and lots of talking. She hates having to do it but it’s the only way her moms would let her out of the castle to do normal witch stuff!]

❄️: *sighing and whines* Why todayyyy! *whines more* my feet hurt and this dress is so puffy *huffs with a pout and crossed arms*

[When Angel isn’t streaming they’re doing band practice. Them and Fenrir are in a band together, Angel playing the drums and Fen on the lead guitar. They’re constantly practicing whenever they have the chance and sometimes use their drumsticks on kitchen counters and tables]

😈: *twirls one of their drumsticks in one hand before finishing the song they were practicing* WOOO! I deserve a goodddd drink~ *hops off to get a Monster can and gummy worms*

[Jay normally in the day works at a potion and spellbook shop she owns but at night they tend to do their reaper duties. They ask for their duties at night time just for the sake of not having to sleep. She tends to borrow steal one of Jooheon’s bikes and rides around and scraps her scythe on the ground to create sparks along with scaring people around her.]

💀: *laughing her ass off as she scares another pair of humans* HA gods humans are so easily scared~ *snorts lifting her feet up and dragging her scythe along, creating sparks, holding on with one hand* the gate isn’t until a couple hours from now ughhhh

🩵🩵: @monsterhigh-cb [🐟🤍💍 && ⚡💙 && 👻💜 && 🐺💕 && 🎤💖 && 👑💛] @evicted-oc [☕️🤎 && 🐼🖤] @theinvitation-bot [🐭🩶💒] @welcome-to-maniac [🐇🖤 💍 && 🌻❤️ && 🌕❤️‍🔥] @fantasyaespa [💚🐈 💍&& 💎☀️] @fantasydreamcb [🔪❤️‍🩹] @k-venturetime [🍓❣️] @multi-joong [🌧️🧡 && 🎨💚] @kardpackcb [🌙💝 && 🐺❤️‍🔥]

possible new residents: @faywithlove @badbf-cb @clubwnderland @domxbot @dawnswonderland-entertainment @beastfights-starting @starhunters-reign @divineblood-cb @urtwice @welcometosector1 @lunaaofthemoon @littleboywooyoungie @reve-rv @multi-esme @the-hellhounds @3rachabot @san-cb @beaconhillsxbot @hoteldelluna-rp @league-of-assassins @dreampodcast @enhanced-cb @lostwoods-cb @boyzplanet @kimheebby @camboys-com @lavienrosecabaretxo @yandereskzcb @thedevoted-cb @rapperracha-cb @lucky-charmsanhwa @multeez-cb @oppositesattraxt @domrachaa @hwangsiblings-oc @coffeexdreamcb @silcntxnight @crimson-l [DM + / -]

#magics update.txt #🐉greyson.txt #🍹emilia.txt #✨jooheon.txt #☔️diego.txt #💧antonio.txt #🌱bonnie.txt #🎐leo.txt #♥️ace.txt #☁️skyler.txt #🕯️marci.txt #❄️lelani.txt #😈angel.txt #💀jay.txt

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tothepointofinsanity · 1 year

Text

Greener Grass Awaits Lore "Masterpost"

[This post contains major spoilers for the game, so please be careful while interacting.]

[I would call this a fancy piece, but really it's just me incoherently blabbering about something I like not being talked about enough again. Read it with a kilogram of salt and view it as a discussion piece instead of what it tries to be. Be warned that this is a very long post, and it is encouraged to play the game before scrolling this.]

The Fundamentals: Greener Grass Awaits is advertised as a sport and horror game. In the former, your main objective is to finish all 12 holes on the golf course. In the latter, your character is stalked by undead entities under the moonlight that distract you from your said casual golfing spree. Before all else, we should start by considering the environments presented to us within the game itself, as it contains history and lore relevant to the bigger picture.

The Setting: You break into a prestigious golfing course known as the Green Canyon Golf Club, a club that has appeared on a magazine issue before which crowns it as one of 'the most inconvenient' courses in the world, likely due to the fact that it was built on an island, also featuring courses that loop around bodies of water. A bit of history given to us was that the course was initially meant to be left as open space before it underwent renovations accordingly in 1982. Today, you will find a large bridge that looms in the skyline between hole 9 to 11 which serves as one of the alternate entry ways to the island, as well as long walkways that cut between winding grasslands and forests.

The Golf Course: The lush and verdant environments of Green Canyon's courses boast the transplant of distinctly non-native, European trees to sport its current iconic look, and this impressive landscape is maintained by an outsource lawn-care company known as Greener Grass, a team that specialises in 'large, remote areas' and is known for its apparently weird advertisements. It is also implied from the bizarre ad and posters that plays at the end of the game that Greener Grass Co. has capabilities in helping to 'revive' dead or dried up lawns, and use a special brand of either soil or fertilising materials that assist in this process. The latter is implied from what you find around the caddy shack.

The further you pick and go with your ball, however, the more oppressive the atmosphere becomes. At some places you will see the illusion shedding its scales - bald, exposed trees on yellowed patches of ground despite being surrounded by other lush trees.

The Caddyshack: At the end of the twelfth hole lies a building you were warned to stay away from because "it's bad", according to an actual Green Canyon club member you met previously. All the doors in the building are locked except for the employee's only room, which will reveal a bloody scene. Presumably, the person you encountered previously who gave you the warning was dead on a chair, while a charred body lies on the office table in the middle of the room. Strewn about are cans of gasoline and Greener Grass Awaits co. bags, possibly containing the fertiliser or soil speculated before. The caddyshack is an important place as it functions as the gateway between the human world and the realm of the residing deity.

More of this will be explained later on.

The Forest: Entering the darkness of the room in the caddyshack will magically transport you to a different space of existence. Here, temples are separated by deep forests, with sacrificial alters occasionally in between them. The forests are dark, and staying in the light is necessary for survival. There are two objectives in this section of the game: pop The Blister and then Kill the Tree. You will need to repeat this objective twice as you march further into the home of the eldritch deity. The Blisters are pulsing gobs of flesh, like a heart, that are stuck onto the orifice of a tree in the forests. However, the game developer interestingly refers to them not as blisters, but as wounds. More on this later. Popping the blisters with your ball will open up the temples' entrance to access the Trees in question, hence the latter objective. You Kill the Trees by swinging your ball into the hole beneath its trunk. There are two Trees (so two Blisters altogether) to kill. When both trees are killed, your action provokes the deity living in this space of existence so much that a boss fight is instigated.

With that being said, it's important to now discuss the enemies we encounter in question.

The Antagonists: Sneaking in for some midnight golfing has its consequences the longer you overstay your welcome on the field and continuously stare down the face of evil. Interestingly, this game presents a surprisingly thought-out mechanism and line-up of enemies as they do not operate on a singular basis, but rather as a triangular feedback between a cult, a forest of angels, and a God out of this world.

The Cult: Under the guise of a landscape company skillful in maintaining the surrounding flora, it is heavily speculated that the Greener Grass co. are an elusive cult that has been offering human sacrifices to a foreign deity that promises everlasting scenery (satisfaction, contentment) in exchange. It is implied from some sign boards that the Greener Grass cult have been spreading the deity's influence outside of its realm and into the human world through the transplant of the aforementioned 'saplings from Europe'. The flora of this game are symbolic of the presence of this God, and potentially serves as an anchor for it to assist in the maintenance of the landscape. Some clues eluding to us that it is indeed a cult were the bloodied altars in the forest sections, as well as a weird book lying on one of the chairs in the Caddyshack. The inscription on the front cover is hard to make out.

The three enemies that stalk you through the game are Greener Grass employees, and are the poster children for both the cult and company given they are one and the same. The 'bizarre ad' that plays at the end also features the same trio, and the song played in it has lyrics hinting towards the company's true intentions. Some of these notable lyrics are: "my life is not what I imagined", "what if you could find that green, and all you had to do was come with me?", "it's the answer to your problems if you come with me". Definitely ominous, and the cult's whole ordeal with 'greener grass awaits you' is a play on the proverb of "the grass is greener on the other side".

Essentially, it is a cult that capitalises off people's insecure dissatisfaction with their own lives (which is pretty much in character for most cults in the real world anyways), takes advantage of sentiments of envy stemmed similarly, all with the lure that you will be happy if you join them. However, the cult does not just follow the stereotypical 'what if happiness was evil' trope, but because their motif is directly tied to the deity they serve under.

The 'Angels': The forests between the temples and altars are occupied with a crowd of stone statues that have that trademark grin the employees had. The angels operate in a very unique mechanism. Unlike the trio employees that stalk closer when your back is turned on them, the statues littering the forest grounds follow another modified system of the weeping angel formula - the second you stay with them in the dark without a light source, it will prompt flashing visages of their faces to psychicly overwhelm your vision. They do not directly attack you, instead choosing to paralyse you in with their surrounding numbers if you're left to wander in the darkness. I call them 'angels' as they seem to be closer to the original weeping angel family in terms of how they work, but also due to the fact that they look much more friendly in the light. They are also enthusiastic statues who rotate between striking an unnecessarily cute abundance of poses. All these poses involve them expressing their joy, almost in ecstasy. Praising, worshipping...something. The ironic liveliness of their poses grants them an impression that they are dancing behind your back.

I also like the detail that when a light source is on them, their expressions are always shut-eyed, but with the visages that flash repeatedly in dark areas, even if you can't see them well, the game shows you that their eyes are open, and thus the impression their expressions give off is that they're mocking you.

On their own, the angels are not a difficult enemy given their psychic esque attacks are ceased with keeping the light close to you. But this game is sadistic, so it eventually throws in the Greener Grass employees into the forests as well. What occurs then is that you're forced to move away constantly - so you either get killed by the employee for trying to keep the light with you, or you're killed by the angels once the employee drives you out of the light's radius. Extremely evil. Once again, it is to enforce the idea that everything that wants to kill you in the game are in cahoots with each other. Another minor detail I noticed was that the trio employees from the Greener Grass commercial also broke into dances over something viewed as trivial as growing lawn grass, which is likely a parallel to the Angels' poses. The expression of 'dancing' and a carved, permanent grin, I think, is done to honour their God.

A God: The overseer of the Greener Grass cult, a deity not from our familiar world who is connected to trees, nature, and most importantly, joy. The final enemy of this game is Exuberance, an eldritch divinity who has nefarious intentions of fully crossing over to 'our' world once the Last Sacrifice is Broke Open. A face with a grin stretched wide by tree branches.

Exuberance is an interesting name as it is generally defined by 'the quality of being full of energy, excitement, and cheerfulness; ebullience.' It's not simply the emotion of happiness, but rather, referring to a state of high spirits, of ecstatic liveliness being. Furthermore, and perhaps this is merely a clever coincidence, but 'exuberance' can also be used to describe, 'the quality of growing profusely; luxuriance' particularly with plants, which would circle back to how it is related to trees and the Greener Grass cult. The entities associated with Exuberance are then constantly in a state of 'bliss' and carve their own faces to resemble their deity. After all, since when was the last time you felt so happy the only method of expressing it is through a dance? It's a primal trait, undoubtedly.

It is thus speculated that this God is quite ancient given the appearance of its realm, the forest, contains archaic architecture of temples. Yet, the bodies we find on the sacrificial altars are fresh, the blood more red than rust. Exuberance had been collecting human sacrifices through its cult, as evident by the large amount of bodies/souls that are released whenever the deity takes damage. It has that same air of confidence and arrogance towards humans that most eldritch Gods carry themselves with. Likes to speak a lot. Here are all of its lines:

Abandon this endeavor. You can't kill a God! You will join me eventually, everyone does!

Now I realise who I'm talking to! No matter. Your suit of flesh is fragile. I will break it open, and you will pour out. That body will be the last sacrifice I need.

You cannot keep that world! I will take your dinner from you.

Upon your first playthrough, though, Exuberance's dialogue sounds like complete gibberish or madness when the context is not made clear yet. This whole journey thus far has not made much sense on how it transitions from casual golfing to killing a God, how Green Canyon Golf Club has to do with a cult; but it will hopefully become clearer with the next introduction: The Protagonist.

The Protagonist: Our local golfer may not just be as local as we thought.

We've discussed the setting and the enemies. Now we must talk about the main character: yourself. In the game, you have no reflection to view your character's appearance, but if it helps in any way, you seem to be slightly shorter than the majority of the enemies and NPCs you encounter. This isn't important information, I just think it's funny. Your character is generally regarded as a weirdo, even speculated to be mentally unstable or inebriated by some people discussing this game. The signs seem to be there: vaulting fences into a premium golf course after dark to play golf in the dark, having a tendency to stare at other characters straight in the eyes, unsettling even the security guard, and appears to be obsessed with the sport of golf. Your character is played up to be an infatuated madman with the latter, with mental barriers scribbled about how they wouldn't miss golf for the world, and the leading theory as a result was that the entire game was a hallucination birthed from their obsession with golf, or rather, too bloody drunk and passed out with strange dreams near the canyon. This would have been the case until you consider two things: Firstly, despite claiming to be a hardcore golfer, your character carries around a beginner's guide on the sport, and has only a simple putter and driver in their sling bag. When you kill Exuberance and wake up in front of the club's front door, you also do not recall where you were, only recognising your car was parked, and that you should leave. Not recognising Green Canyon Golf Club indicates to us that something is off, given as discussed prior, it is an infamous place for golfing, and had the character really been a die-hard for the sport, they would have realised it without problem. Secondly, the character you play from the start to the end of the boss fight compared to when you wake up seem to have differing personalities. The character you have been stuck with seems to know what they're doing at all times, and gives instructions on their next move. They're stiff, rigid, and are not easily excitable even in the face of the stalking employees or a dead body. They don't seem to care much about anything at all except for an odd aversion to water, as well as wanting to kill Exuberance. What is even stranger is that the font for the character's monologue is completely different after the boss fight ends.

During the game:

After the game/ending:

The former is more messy, like it's written by hand. The latter is a plain font. This implies that something about your character has changed — the truth was that you were possessed all along, most likely by another eldritch God whom is not Exuberance, and came to the golf course to slay it. There are some allusions to you being a separate eldritch entity: Exuberance recognises you. Not the character you were playing as, but whatever that was occupying the human vessel temporarily. An eldritch God has no reason to remember or know a mere human, after all, hence explaining the second and third line of dialogue by it in the temples, as well as why when the original owner of the body wakes up, they have no recollection of what occured whatsoever, and, effectively as other players have thought - it's all chalked up to both the ordinary you and the players as 'just a dream'.

Your character also refers to themselves as "this body" whenever you enter the water as the vessel you are possessing has no swimming skills. At the very start of the game, you even get to 'choose body'. You're choosing a vessel suitable to your liking to possess. What is more evident as well is the ominous answers that you can use to respond to whatever the NPCs are saying, as well as frightening them due to the possibility even they knew you felt off. You would often hear screams drone louder and louder in the background whenever you got near to these NPCs, as they are actually dead. We 'hear' the truth from what is not directly told to us by these spirits that were trying to advise against proceeding deeper into the course.

Yet, we proceed. The enemies would have directly charged at you from the get-go instead of waiting for you to look away since the way you look at something (eyes are the windows to the soul, and I wonder what kind of thing they would see in the place of one when others look at you) since you clearly hold a certain influence over them by presence and stare alone. The undead should have nothing to fear, and yet even they practice caution against something that reminds them of their patron God. Another reason I believe you're being possessed is because the font you have always used in the game feels handwritten, the same way Exuberance's font is more cursive and messy. Clearly, you are a deity by some means, just a different kind with different intentions; some intentions that are left unanswered even after finishing the game.

Just what exactly does all of this writing amount to?

The Final Story: An expansive golf course known as the Green Canyon Golf Club opens up in 1982 after being renovated from its previously barren state. It was founded on a large island, featuring a diverse, challenging number of holes for people to enjoy while they traverse the canyon's scenery. In order to maintain the green and natural state of the course, Green Canyon managers hired a company known as Greener Grass to assist them. Greener Grass co. appeared to be a rather new company, having only few reviews, but an eye catching advertisement and specialises in the lawn keeping for large, remote areas, which seemed to fit the canyon's liking and geographic description. The hired company set to work, transplanting in gorgeous trees supposedly from Europe, as well as using their own brand of soil to allow the environment of the course to prosper. The environment was clearly well tended to, with the course even forbidding golf carts due to how sensitive and delicate the fields were, as well as advising golfers to not hit their balls into the trees as native birds nested there. Despite these rules, the course was fairly prestigious, its popularity captured in several sports magazines.

What was unknown to the club, however, was that this lawnscape company they hired was actually a cult, and the permission to freely introduce foreign flora to the land had been with the company's intention to bring in anchors tied to the God they made contact with, Exuberance. Through the golf course and perhaps other places not mentioned, Exuberance had been steadily increasing its influence over the human world as it received more and more sacrifices thanks to its formidable cult. The cult worked in a caddyshack on the golf course, and would lure in members of the golfing club with normal statements of refreshments available, only to offer them up as sacrifices to the altars of the temple. The sacrificed bodies were then burned and made into the materials the Greener Grass front used to maintain the lush landscapes. Countless rinse and repeat sessions of bloodshed later, Exuberance required just one more body still to cross over to the human world and, from there, become unstoppable with the fact that its associating flora were planted everywhere by the cult by then.

But the violent rituals of the Greener Grass cult had resulted in innocent souls trapped on the grounds of the course and realm in-between worlds. The souls screamed in their fate of immortalised anguish, and eventually this unbearable abundance of noise roused the deity of the human world from its previous state of inaction. Exuberance is a source of insolence, believing it could attempt to compete with Us for the world we looked after. Something must come out of this. The problem was that Exuberance's realm was closed off, difficult to penetrate without proper mobility. A plan was thus hatched: possess a suitable vessel to appear human in order to get closer to the home of the enemy. It risked vulnerability as the human body was fragile and had a mind occupying it already, but that doesn't matter when casting a heavy filter of obsession with the sport would properly motivate them to do the bidding. This different deity knows that Green Canyon Golf Club had been discreetly converted to a massive ritual ground at this point, and playing by the rules of the world of golf, even if tedious, was necessary to reaching the gateway and destroy the anchors tied to Exuberance.

You play the role of a victim as the undead start to stalk from behind, but something was off about this sacrifice, and the employees take turns reporting back to their God of this issue. Exuberance believed the disguise of a human, not being aware of what laid hidden under the layers of blood and bones. You finish the 12th hole, enter the caddyshack, and find yourself where you wanted to be: on the turf of the enemy's temples. Staying in the light was vital to survival here, and as fresh blood collects in the basin of the altar from a previous sacrifice, the innocence of a stolen life had purified to form a glowing orb. An orb that lights up like a star in the dreary landscape, taking the filth of flesh as it goes. By the time Exuberance had realised the scheme of a trojan horse, you had already successfully killed the trees, and all that was left was to kill Exuberance itself. With each swing, you take out pieces of the God, releasing the souls into the surroundings.

The fight ends with a clear victor, and you wake up outside of the golf club with no recollection of any of this. The deity possessing your vessel had relinquished control, allowing you to continue your life as normal. What occurs after then is unclear, as the advertisement sings its jingle, and we get to see the spine of a book inscribed with strange symbols on the right as the game ends with the sound of a closing door.

TLDR; Local grass cult goes overboard with human sacrifice rituals, acidentally summons worse eldritch being to kill their patron deity just so it would shut up. Happy golfing!

#Grass Archives #Greener Grass Awaits #Greener Grass Awaits game #today on: explaining things to the thin air #i really like the game's lore since it's written like a proper cosmic horror/lvcraft esque #but even outside of ignoring the lore it's an effective horror game #and by that i mean it takes advantage of paranoid people (me)#sound design and songs for this game rock too #Yatoimtop Archives

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dastardly-imbecile · 2 months

Text

Not the Dungeons Pt. 4

He has not been so content as the warden of this place to never look towards the sky, reach a hand out towards the lushness of the forest and try to snatch a leaf from the tree, a tuft of fur from a roaming wolf, hold it in his good hand and never let go. --- Interesting conversation. More interesting dreams.

---

Introspection, exploration, more introspection.

Wordcount: ~2700

Pt. 1, 2, 3

---

“We can leave,” the person upon the bed says, so delightfully naive that, for a moment, he wonders how they have survived so far. Of course, he saw—or, rather, felt—it all happening, but still, he must look down at himself and back up in disbelief. Down, at the thick wooden club sprouting from a shoulder, at the chest scarred from a thousand battles, at the beak always in this vision, crosseyed with the effort of capturing it.

And up. Up at them, still sprawled out, leg wrapped as well as his clumsy hands were able, flickering between a thousand forms at a time. He is unsure whether they are male, female, neither, both—it’s hard to tell both from the merit of a dirt-smudged face, bulky armor, nondescript hair, and from the twist of his eyes. Unused to evaluating anything besides how many hits it would take to kill someone. Still—that doesn’t matter, not much. Same sentiment either way. Same falsehood.

Slowly, he shakes his head, and they tilt their head, mouth—mouth, lips, not beak, so soft, so pliable—curving downwards. “You want to leave.”

Nod.

“We can leave.”

Shake of the head. A flicker of fear, deep in the eyes—he’s not sure why he registers this, and not gender. Perhaps he’s seen it so many times that picking it out has become second nature. “...We aren’t leaving?”

This one takes longer to consider. Eventually, he shakes his head again. It’s the we that’s the problem here. They can leave. He cannot. Tied to this dungeon, tied to the swollen guards, tied to the things that scream and things that crawl and things that do worse than that.

It seems that the explorer understands as well, because finally, they say it. “I can leave?”

One final nod. To imagine it is to blaspheme in some way over the ephemeral things that rule this dungeon, but he can’t help it sometimes. Sky a shade so blue that it scorches the eyes, air clear and sharp with dew and flowers, a palace too far away and a man within that.

…A man?

A knight. A… he stops in place, though he was not moving much in any case, and tries to think. A wall. He remembered this, he knows this, but already the memory is a tattered flock of crows soaring away, dropping a trail of feathers down upon the ground to follow. He picks one up, and then another, but by the time he reaches the third, the wind has already blown the trail all askew.

Someone important, in any case. He cannot spare much more thought for this—there are two things that he must know, right now. You are not the dungeons.

And, connected-

Keep the person safe.

If he loses one, he might lose the other. At the moment it is…. Unsure why this is quite so important, but if he doesn’t remember now, then he did at one point—and, hopefully, he will again. For now, hang onto two points, and solely that.

“Why not?” They ask, and then shake their head, forbidding his answer. “I apologize. Yes or no. Rudimer. Rudimer?”

Nod. The name hurts, burns, sparks some hidden, dried-out husk of kindling deep within his heart, but that is good. That is the same feeling he got when he studied this person, back before all this, when he knelt over their bed and counted the space between breaths. The burning, the purpose.

“I… heard of you,” they say, “vaguely. Before I entered, people talked—whispered, more like. About the dungeons’ danger. Said it had taken you and many others. Trortur, Isayah. More, unimportant.”

He knows them, if not by those names, then by a cobble-together of memory and personal experience. The man who inspires odd irritation in him, and who he took delight in beating down during their singular fight. The one with a mask and a hand disfigured—kindred?—who talks, in his sleep, of maps. And the rabble—the ones clothed in yellow, who follow the bodyless man, the dark-robed rats who crawl into corners with piles of books and glut themselves on blood.

He is still thinking, recalling, when they finish their sentence in a whisper. “...Le’Garde too, I suppose.”

Blonde man—at least at first. Favorite of the priestess. Victim of the irritating one. His companion’s… whatever he is.

Jerkily, he nods, unsure of what else to do. It’s true. The man is dead. Another life taken by the dungeons—another one in a line of deaths, one-by-one-by-one. Well- perhaps the others are not dead, including him, but he’s sure that this is worse somehow.

A moment of silence. He certainly cannot break it, not unless he wants to screech incomprehensive words to the heavens—or the hells—so it is upon the only one with a functioning tongue. “I can leave. You’re saying, yes. You… the dungeons? Are they keeping you? Rudimer?”

A part of them seems to delight in saying his name, and he cannot say that he minds completely. Perhaps it reminds them that he was human once, that he is not all hulking brute painted in scars and blood. Which is, of course, what he is, but humanity is comforting in ways that he cannot describe.

Response—what to respond? He deliberates for a long moment, turning the question about in his mind. It is not… well, he cannot say that it is not a physical bond, because it is, in a way. He has not been so content as the warden of this place to never look towards the sky, reach a hand out towards the lushness of the forest and try to snatch a leaf from the tree, a tuft of fur from a roaming wolf, hold it in his good hand and never let go.

Always, however, always, there is something that stills him, catches his foot before it crosses the threshold back out. Chirps and chittering behind his eyes, improbably throbbing in the wood of his arm, phantom pains from flesh that no longer exists.

The memory of… something. Someone? The man in the palace? He is dead now, he must be dead, or he must be something worse than that, but just as he thinks this, it occurs to him that he has never lingered on his presence beyond this moment.

For, always, he’s been simple vermin, been one of the many pests that come in and do not come out again. If he crosses paths with one of them, he will fight, as is his duty—duty from whom? From what?—but, usually, he puts little effort into seeking them out.

But it is not impossible to find. In his mind, floating somewhat suspended in a mire of half-eaten memories, is a vague awareness of the dungeon. Crude at the best of times—he is not able to pick out a stone from thousands, to track the lumbering patrol of a single guard—but it guides him when he wanders through the labyrinth, alerts him when trouble comes.

There are guards in the hallway outside. Above and below, for many floors. The deeper he goes, the larger they get, the darker their presence in his mind, until they’re indistinguishable from tarry feathers and subtly-shifting wings. There is nothing of note on the upper floors—a few of the quieter denizens such as the Pocketcat, casting his own sort of shadow, but outside of that, the only humans present are unremarkable and small. Even Le’Garde, infirm as he was, had a stronger presence.

So deeper. Blackness in his mind, and the chirping grows louder, and the beaks stronger, first cartilage and now bone, scraping scraping scraping.

So deeper. Even the crows shy away, now, and he has never attempted to extend his dominion so low—even in the days when he was not this god-touched creation, he’s sure he never ventured down here, never laid eyes on whatever rests in the depths—but he goes, keeps going, and still has not reached the edge. If he attempts to extend too high above, into the uncursed world, then he will scarcely get a touch of brightness before the crows start up a racket and begin smashing their heads upon the walls of his skull. But below, below, they are quiet—almost as if even they are afraid of drawing attention.

So deeper. He realizes somewhere, dully, that someone is calling Rudimer, but he’s unsure if it’s happening below or above. Maybe both. Maybe neither. There are monsters down here, scuttling in the darkness, away from his reach, but he does not know them as he knows his guards, even tremulously. Other things too, things near-indescribable, darker than the Pocketcat and brighter than Le’Garde both, and if he focuses upon them for too long, then he feels them begin to focus on him—so he does not do that.

So deeper. Finally, he feels something that is neither of those two. Small—not human, but not completely beast either. Familiar in a way that he barely remembers, in a way that floats just out of reach. It’s what he is looking for. He’s what he is looking for.

And then, he withdraws himself from those dark places whip-fast, and the idle movements of brutes and monsters in the lighted world is almost a relief compared to whatever roams down there.

As is the face before his, wide-eyed. In that first moment of return, confronted with the visage of a human, his mauler twitches and he half stands, but with a vicious wrench of his mind, he quells the motion completely.

You are not the dungeons.

He is not.

“Rudimer,” they say, and the thought resurfaces that perhaps it was them calling a name. His name. “Are you…”

He blinks. Is he?

Still, they have not flinched back, even with his initial early movement. Impressive, he’d say, except maybe it’s foolhardy instead.

“The dungeons,” they repeat. He remembers the question—still unsure how to answer it though. Eventually, he settles on a tilt of his head, neither a nod nor a shake, and they sit back.

“You do not know? Do… do this if you do not know.” They make a motion like the rolling of one’s shoulders, up-and-down, and he copies them, feeling the energy within those corded muscles, eager to bash. Not here. Not now. Soon? Perhaps. If he wishes to go down…

“The dungeons,” they say once again, “stopping you?”

He does the motion. Slowly, they nod, taking the information in.

“How?” They look down, searching for chains, maybe for evidence of some sort of pact. He almost laughs. If it was a voluntary contract that led to this, he would have learned how to break it long ago.

Not a question answerable by yes, no, or shoulders, but there’s another motion he can make.

He points-

Down.

To where all things go eventually. Always, he has been too wary of it to go fully, but he supposes that this prophecy must come true eventually as well.

Down he goes.

“That’s where…” they say, and then stop, shaking their head. “What’s down there?”

Roll of the shoulders again. Quite the useful motion. Struck by inspiration again, he raises his hand and points at his head, shakes it, rolls the shoulders, and points down again. I have impressions, but I do not know much.

To their credit, they seem to get it almost immediately. “So that is what keeps you here.”

Nod.

“We will set out tomorrow, then,” they decide, and he hesitates. Again, the most important of all those words is we—both of them? Slowly, he points at them, and then up. Out. Freedom. They asked him whether he wanted to leave, is that not an implicit indication of their own desires?

“No,” they say, “or not now, perhaps.”

He tilts his head. Inquisitive—it comes naturally. Perhaps it is the influence of the crows.

“I came down here for Le’Garde. He is…” they hesitate, shake their head, “he is no more. He wanted to find what lays below. Thus…”

He draws back, regards them, all of them—disheveled and dirty, armor the slightest bit ill-fitting. Fought through seven levels of creatures, survived here where few do, at least in the open.

They are not naive nor foolhardy, he realized, but insane. As all the living in here are. It should have been obvious, but he has not analyzed the mind of anybody in a long time, not unless ‘mind’ counts gray matter splattered against the wall.

Slowly, hesitantly, unsure whether it is the right thing to do-

He nods.

***

The last part of the day is uneventful, all things considered. Not after the mental foray into the darkness, not after the plans sketched out to travel below. Painstakingly as well—in the end, all that could really be confirmed between them was kill all monsters and keep each other alive.

Good enough. More than anything he’s had in years.

They sleep. He doesn’t. Not to keep guard—the monsters don’t breach this safe zone, not besides him, but because he doesn’t sleep.

And perhaps because he likes watching.

Force of habit. They fall asleep as they always do—slowly and with fluttering eyelids, a leisurely relaxation of their body, so out of place here. Soon, come the dreams, the faint twitching of limbs, the movement of their eyes behind the lids, flicking back and forth. He is used to it all, able to recite the steps in his own sleep, if he both slept and had a voice.

Tonight, though, something changes. They roll over completely, unusual—they are not an animated sleeper, not usually—and then, the movement behind the eyes grows quicker, grows frantic.

Moments later, the first sound. A cry, quiet, like a hurt creature, the noise that all things make when they die, monster or human or something else entirely. Momentarily, there is a brief flicker of excitement—is this the moment that it happens? The moment that the crows have found them? He watches, waiting for the beak, for the feathers and the transformation of limb to weapon, but it doesn’t come.

Only more sounds. Struggling sounds, hurt sounds. Thrashing—enough to throw the thin sheet thrown across their body off, onto the ground.

Eventually, the excitement fades, enough that he’s sure that tonight is not the night for them to become one like him. Perhaps, then, they will be able to talk, caw and croak in a language only the two of them understand, and the parts below will shake as both descend upon them, swinging and killing in tandem-

But, again, it is not the night.

Something else… he leans closer, looms, watches. There is another feeling in his chest beside that of excitement. Should he muffle them, in case this does attract some wandering creature? Not by force, surely, that feels counterintuitive, but…

He reaches out a hand. Draws it back. Extends both, and then brings the mauler down so quickly that he scratches himself. Not that. Only one good hand anymore—remember that.

One hand, carefully, so uncertain of the strength needed, upon their arm. That is all—he does not dare to squeeze, for fear that it will be the strength he uses to crush skulls.

The sensation is unfamiliar. Cold metal against colder skin. He cannot remember if he’s done this before—not touch metal, but touch a person with such calculated softness.

Perhaps he has. Not since the dungeons took him.

The thrashing stops, but the sounds continue—quieter though, at further intervals apart. He can’t help but feel it’s because of him. Is this pride? It’s the same bubbling feeling as when he communicated his words with nothing but pointing and jerks of his head, the same feeling he got when he bashed his mauler into Trortur’s head and sent the man stumbling away.

Must be. For however long it is, he’s content to sit there and watch, wait with a single hand upon their arm.

All the sounds thus far have been incomprehensible, simple noises of surprise—wordless exclamations.

Right before they awake, however—as he can feel the beginning of sunlight barely warming the dungeon stone in the highest level—there is a word. Or at least an amalgamation of letters that sounds more like a word than anything else. They jerk harder than they have since he put a hand upon their arm, and from their mouth comes an exclamation of, “Ma’habre!”

#fear and hunger #funger #f&h #crow mauler #crow mauler x reader #x reader #x gn reader #edward cullen who?#maybe noncanon in some way i gave up before i finished the game

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larsnicklas · 7 months

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hockey writing appreciation club part ii (part i here) hi team. let's support good sportswriting, whether with clicks or subscriptions! here are some more of my favorite articles i've read in the past little bit! i'll keep sharing articles every few weeks or so, and i always welcome recommendations if you have them as well!!

A mysterious illness halted his promising NHL career. Eight years later, hope and a comeback 🔒 Hodgson didn’t think about the mysterious illness that caused him to walk away from the game. Or the tests for lung cancer, brain cancer and liver cancer that he’d endured in a fruitless quest to figure out what was making him sick. He wasn’t thinking about the months of on-ice work and yoga and a grueling weight-loss regimen that led him to this point. He wasn’t even feeling the blunt soreness of the broken rib he had sustained in his first professional game after his long layoff. All he was thinking about was the gimme pass he’d just received. “If I hadn’t scored on that one,” Hodgson joked, “I might’ve had to shut it down.”

How the NHL rookie class has handled life on and off the ice Confidence becomes more than just a buzzword: It's a mantra. The rookies, after all, have to believe they belong -- even among the future Hall of Famers. "It's not like the guys you're playing against are not human, you know what I mean?" Carlsson said. "You realize you can be a good player here too, and you don't have to be worried that you're not going to make it. If you have confidence out there, you're going to be fine."

For players on the roster fringe, every day in the NHL is a treasure — and a challenge 🔒 Confidence is a funny thing. Even superstars routinely lose theirs during a stretch of what qualifies as mediocrity by their impossible standards. Hang around the game long enough and you’ll lose track of how many times you hear a player talk about just needing to “see the puck in the back of the net” to get himself going again. Never mind that he’s been the best player on the ice at every level. Never mind that he’s scored hundreds of goals in the NHL. Never mind that he’s been so good for so long that he’s paid massive sums of money and showered with love and affection every night. Even the toughest players can spiral mentally. Hockey’s hard, and the pressure’s high.

Nils Hoglander on growing up in a tiny village, why he stays on the ice after practice and his 'hidden talent' Is it harder to shoot a moose or stay in the NHL? A hint is a never-satisfied 5-foot-9, 185 pounds of bowling ball persistence and last player off the practice ice on Tuesday. “I guess I have to say hockey is the hardest,” said Hoglander. “But if you’ve never been out in the forest or anything, it’s kind of hard to know what to do. If you bring Petey (Elias Pettersson) he would have no idea what to do, he’s a city boy.”

'Open people's eyes': How the NHL's evolved in the decade of data The chemist's cell phone rings. He finds a quiet area of the lab to take the call. Hockey Hall of Fame forward Ron Francis is on the line. It's the 2014-15 season, Francis' first as general manager of the small-market Carolina Hurricanes. Francis asks the chemist - who's assumed a part-time consultant role with the NHL team - about a few players. How would you rank them? The call is short. The chemist slides his phone into his pocket, slips his gloves on, and walks to his work station. Back to the day job for Eric Tulsky.

After 1,400 games and counting, Alex Ovechkin still doesn’t break 🔒 When Alex Ovechkin was a rookie, his teammates were concerned he might have a heart attack. The Washington Capitals forward, who was 20 when he played his first NHL game in 2005, has always done things his own way. Back then, that meant a pregame routine of three Red Bulls. When the rest of his teammates were drinking Gatorade or water between periods, Ovechkin was downing soda.

Why a first-round pick walked away from the NHL — and found peace doing odd jobs 🔒 Over the course of his 10-year career, Koekkoek admits he paid far too much attention to external noise. He read negative articles about his play. He paid attention to critics on social media. And he put too much stock into various coaches who didn’t believe in him. “I lost that self-value that someone believed in me to take me in the first round,” he said. “I wish I could have kept my swagger.”

#you guys liked the last hockey writing recs! i would like to share newer articles periodically in case you were interested.#also i selfishly want to be able to keep track of my own personal favorites as i go along lol #fewer places to find good feature writing these days. it's actually depressing i'm afraid!!#meg.recs #<- new tag. lol #of this bunch my personal favorites are the fifth and last ones!!#but all of these are really good reads.

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notexactlyrocketscience · 1 year

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These Witches Don't Burn duology by Isabel Sterling

one of my favourite YA reads in recent years!

Elemental witches! The magic is somewhere between Winx Club/W.I.T.C.H (sans the magical girl transformations) and Avatar, and it’s just so familiar and fun.

The narrator authentically sounds like a teenager, but remains engaging to any reader.

Diverse ensemble cast with very detailed characters.

Ballet aesthetic with some of the main characters—this really brought back my childhood. It was so vividly written and beautiful.

City/forest ambience is really well-done.

MURRRDERRR!!! Which came as a complete shock.

Things turn into a very dark and intense mystery/thriller/adventure with angsty betrayals.

And yet it still manages to remain so wholesome and warm.

The second-chance romance and other relationships are very sweet.

The sequel is as good as the first book and the ending is really satisfying!

I recieved a free ARC at an author event a few years ago, and I really wasn't expecting much from the duology. You can imagine my surprise when I finally picked it up. The audiobook is very fun, and the plot includes everything I want in a YA read—fantasy, romance, friendships, aesthetics, even murder and adventure. Truly one of my favourite series ever probably. I've seen some pictures of copies floating around so I just want to throw in my enthusiastic two cents—Highly, highly recommended!

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pxrxcxa · 2 years

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Opposite Ends

Chapter Eleven - I'll stay if you'll stay

C1 | C2 | C3 | C4 | C5 | C6 | C7 | C8 | C9 | C10 | C12 | C13 pt 1 | C13 pt 2 |

Chapter Twelve is out now, enjoy Sunflowers x 🌻

Pairing | Eddie x Female reader 18+. Steve x Robin x Female reader platonic friendship

Series summary | Dustins older sister got brought into the group during the events of Starcourt mall, 3 months on she's in her senior year and the kids are starting high school. After everything that went down she feels that she has to keep them safe at all costs, that includes keeping them way from the charismatic 'freak' Eddie Munson that runs a club based on their favourite game. They've both hated each other since freshman year -with good reason-, but when keeping distance between the kids and Eddie means putting herself in the firing line, boundaries get blurred, intentions get lost & the heart speaks louder than the brain.

The story is told from both Y/N & Eddies point of view.

What to expect | Slow burn enemies to lovers, Angst - with a happy ending (fix-it-fic if you will), fluff & smut (in the later chapters). 18+ to read this story.

Series Warnings | Mentions of abuse, drug use, 18+ smut content

Chapter word count | 9 K Word Count

Chapter warnings | Harsh language, swearing, heavy makeout, angst.

Authors Note | Forever grateful for you patience, I truly hope you enjoyed it, I cancelled my plans today (I told work to screw themselves because writing is what makes me happy and I was neglecting that) to finally get the posts out. Thankyou all my loves for reading x

As always, any & all comments/reblogs are most appreciated - Thankyou, P. x 🌿

Y/N | March 1986

“Come on.” I groaned into my fist, tearing strips of skin away from my bleeding nails beds with my teeth as the still trees skirted past my window at an agonizingly slow pace, watching the wide wings of the Eagle sinking into the blinding sunset. My thoughts flashed to a matching bird that adorned the cover of a book I had seen Eddie’s uncle read a hundred times over.

“Can you pick it up a bit Steve?” I snapped, turning back towards the driver’s seat as Robin chattered away nervously next to him. Dustin was pinned between Max and I in the back, his twitching knee sending shaky vibrations throughout my whole body. Steve’s brown eyes flashed up in the rear-view mirror with a storm brewing behind them.

“Oh forgive me y/n if I’m not racing towards a fugitive wanted for murder possibly hiding in a big all time dealers house.” His face reddened as he ran out of breath, ripping his gaze away from mine as I stared back angrily at him, but to his credit he did push the accelerator down a few inches.

“He’s not a murderer Steve!” Spit flew from Dustin’s mouth as he leant up between the front seats.

I cut off their arguing as I recognized the turn off to Holland road. “Turn down here!.” I gasped for breath as the sharp swing of the steering wheel sent me flying into Dustin and Max, jamming them against the door. The packed forest gave way to the slim opening of the concealed road as the cracked asphalt turned to dirt, flicking up little rocks beneath the car.

“Slow down.” I breathed, squishing Dustin as I pushed off of him to sit back up.

“Oh now you want me to go slow.” Steve snapped as his headlights cut through the quickly falling darkness, illuminating the aged brown panelling of Reefer Ricks house as it came into view at the end of the way. My breathing turned harsh as my thoughts fell to the last time I’d been here.

“Well if Eddie is hiding here, we don’t exactly want to go in all guns blazing and scare him off.” Robin strained against her seatbelt as Steve hit his breaks and shot her a frustrated look.

“Stop here.” I interrupted, unclicking my belt and reaching for the door handle.

“Wait.” As my fingers curled around the cool metal, Steve’s hands shot out to push down the lock on his own door, trapping us all in as a snapping noise surrounded around the car.

“What the hell Steve?” I yelled, pushing against my door hopelessly as I sent him a betrayed scowl.

“Considering everything we’ve been through – can we just be cautious please?” He sighed and banged his hands against the steering wheel, peering out through the windshield towards the rundown house in front of us. Dirt, dust and dead leaves littered the front porch like it had been untouched for a long time, likely since its owner was sitting in a cold jail cell.

Darkness flooded into our seats as he killed the engine and switched the lights off, the only sound was the gentle waves of the lake lapping at the shore and our mixed breaths of anxiety swirling together in the silence as I fumed in my seat.

“Stuff this.” Dustin grumbled after a still moment, I yelled out in surprise and anger as he reached out to roll down my window and launched himself through it, trampling my knees as he pushed off against them to struggle through the slightly too small opening.

“Hey! Don’t do that – Jesus Christ.” Steve panicked and fumbled quickly with the lock as I leant up to follow suit after my brother, checking that the ground was clear after he landed with a loud and painful thud beneath the window, before I pulled myself through it.

“Just use the damn doors.” Steve sighed and rolled his eyes as I had my arms halfway through it, throwing himself out his side of the car as Robin turned in her seat to shoot me an amused smile.

“Eddieeeeeeee.” Dustin took off tearing towards the stairs of the main house, sending up clouds of dust as his sneakers slapped loudly against the gravel, leaving us to speed up after him as he disappeared into the dark.

“Here – flashlights.” Robin whispered, sliding up next to me and pressing the cold metal into my palm, tossing a matching one towards Steve as he clapped and held his hands out.

“This is where you got your drugs from y/n? Pretty creepy…” Steve’s voiced carried out across the wind as Max shot us a concerning look, huddling closer to us as the screech of a hidden bird made her jump out of her skin. I pushed on the button at the bottom of the flashlight, blinding beams of light swept across the grey dirt beneath our feet as we side stepped out of the way of sharp rocks and uneven ground.

“You must have really hated Eddie to go to Reefer Rick.” Robin side eyed me, caressing me out the shell I’d curled into with each step that brought us closer to the house. I couldn’t tell which option made me sicker, finding Eddie and facing him for the first time since what happened between us on the field, or not at all, and someone else with entirely other – sinister – intentions finding him instead.

“Must have.” I shrugged, pressing my lips together and scanning my light over the disturbing trees that lined the side of the house, sending menacing shadows across the empty road. Dustin’s heavy footsteps echoed into the night as he mounted the stairs, Steve sighed and ran ahead of us to keep up with him.

The crossed beams of our lights shone into the darkened house through the dirty glass panes of the front door as we bunched close together behind Dustin on the deck, the rest of us swung our heads around to keep an eye out as he reached for the doorbell.

The high-pitched shriek sent a tingle up my spine as we waited for a sign of movement inside, when we were met with complete tranquillity we all let out a collective sigh as Dustin reached up to bash his finger into the buzzer again.

“Okay, well that’s settled. I guess he’s not here.” Steve waved his hand as Dustin mashed down the doorbell in quick succession, giving up and banging his fist against the wooden door frame.

“Eddie it’s Dustin!” I reached forward to pinch at his arm as his voice reverberated into the empty night, shaking my head as he brushed me off.

I exchanged a frustrated look with Robin with the same thought behind our eyes. Subtle

“Great.” Steve murmured, holding his flashlight higher as he shone it over his head.

“Look we just wanna talk okay?” Dustin yelled out, banging his fist against the withering door.

“No cops, I swear. We just wanna help.” He wrapped his hand around the nob and rattled loudly.

“Dustin shut up!” I hissed, swinging my head back and forth as the others looked queasy. “You’re going to bring anyone in a ten-mile radius straight for us.” I turned my back on him and made my way across the weathered floorboards towards the front room window, peaking through the open blinds.

“I thought you cared about him; don’t you want to find him?” Dustin’s words, spat at me with an angry look on his face, brought me up short. I realised he probably had no idea what had happened between me and Eddie, and even though the truth was, was that I was barely hanging on by a thread, the thousand painful images of him in dangerous predicaments sent stabs of agony through my core. But the neutral expression that was exerting all my effort to keep in place, and my tight lips that kept me from crying or screaming – or both, probably made me look awfully blasé about the situation.

I shot Max a probing look as she leant against the banister, but she just gave me a slight shake of her head before turning back to look at Dustin’s quivering frame.

“Of course I do.” I whispered; half my words drowned out from the sudden gust of wind the rifled my hair around me face. He ignored me entirely and spun back around to the door.

“EDDIE!” He slammed his hand back against the glass pane, making it rattle dangerously before reaching for the bell.

“Shh.” Robin and Max’s flashlights trailed after me as they followed my footsteps, staring into the messy room as our lights reflected off empty beer bottles strewn across the tabletop.

“RICK.” He rung the doorbell for what felt like a thousand more times.

“REEFER RICK” Dustin switched back to banging with his fist as I jumped down from his deck lightly, stumbling as Max landed with a thud beside me.

“Don’t scream that.” Steve sighed, pushing him away from the door.

“He’s not there.” His tone softened as he stared down at Dustin.

“He could just be really high.” He argued back, ducking his head to peer in through the cleaner glass panels.

“Is that a foot?” Steve’s voice rose with panic and disgust.

“No it’s a shoe.” Dustin shot back, laughing lightly at Steve’s expense.

I turned away from Max to face them, shining my light across them as they raised their hands to protect their eyes. “He’s not there, he’s in jail.”

“And you just let Dustin scream like that knowing this Reefer dude isn’t even here?” Steve dropped his hand, anger clouding his face as he glowered at me.

“Rick wasn’t the one I was hoping for.” Overwhelming sadness tugged at my heart, rendering me speechless as the pain almost had me doubling over.

“Okay. So Eddie’s not here –“ He continued, not noticing my ache as I spun away from the group and wrapped my arms around my chest, smothering the beam of my flashlight in the crook of my elbow.

“Hey guys!” Max’s voice rung out, loud and urgent. Steve fell silent as we all shuffled over to see what she had her light pointing at. There, nestled behind the swaying trees, was a boat house resting against the water’s edge.

Steve and Robin barely had time to share a worried look before my legs took off running of their own accord, speeding down the dangerous slope and across the ground, dislodging loose rocks that caused Dustin to trip as he followed close behind me. A cold wave of realisation washed over me as I halted to a stop, pausing at the open doorway of the shed as an off smell floated through it.

My heart stopped for a second before I forced myself to banish the evil thoughts away, Eddie was alive and well until I saw with my own eyes that he wasn’t. I was purged back in darkness as I let my flashlight fall to my side, catching my breath as the others caught up to me, their rushed footsteps thundering to my side where I stood shaking.

I looked up to meet Steve’s eyes as he wrapped his hand around my wrist, holding me in place as his chest heaved from being out of breath.

“Just – wait. Always in a Goddamn rush.” He breathed, placing his hands on his knees as he leaned forward. We all looked at the whiteish panelling softly glowing in the new moonlight that filtered down through the crowds, faltering as the door swung back slightly in the wind, exposing a pitch black beyond it.

“Well?” Dustin gulped, turning expectantly towards Steve.

“Why the hell do I have to go in first?” He snapped back, standing up straight and placing his hands on his hips.

“Oh my god.” Robin retorted, reaching out to push the door open further, holding her flashlight to her chest as she poked her head through it, I quickly stepped up to follow her in, Dustin practically stepping on my heels in his haste as he headed in after us – Steve bringing up the rear.

“Hello? Is anyone home?” If my nerves weren’t practically on fire, I would have laughed at Robin, but I kept quiet as we all filed in silently after her, the aged floorboards creaking under our weight as we swung the flashlights across the room.

“What a dump.” Steve clicked his light off as he reached for an oar leaning up against the wall as Dustin passed by him, taking off with the others as we spilt to search separately.

I walked after Robin as we made our way across the other side of the room, I slowed as she and Max picked up empty pieces of food wrappers of the grainy workbench. Everyone jumped in fright as a loud smack and crinkle of fabric boomed off the walls, I spun back to see Steve prodding the tarp carelessly draped over the small fishing boat that was suspended on the middle of the room.

“What are you doing?” Dustin whisper-yelled in surprise at him as I stared at him in shock, Steve glanced up to meet our stunned stares as he shrugged his shoulders.

“What are you doing?” He demanded again, his voice a little surer as Steve made several more stabs at the lumpy piles under the tarp.

“He might be in here.” He grunted, I grinded my teeth together angrily as confusion swept between us over which ‘he’ he was referring to.

“So take the tarp off.” Dustin waved his hand between them madly as he glared as Steve.

“If you’re so brave you take the tarp off.” He shot back angrily.

“Hey, look over here.” I swivelled to face Max as she gestured towards the half-eaten candy bars and beer bottles, I froze in place as I joined her. Just slightly, almost barely even there – if I hadn’t been waking up to the scent for the past three months, I wouldn’t have even noticed – but under the stench of rotting fish and growing mould, was a hint of Eddie’s cologne.

“Someone was here.” Max’s beam shone across the bench.

“Maybe he heard us, got spooked and ran?” Robins voice jolted me out of my trance as I spun around to face the guys.

“Don’t worry, Steve will get him with his oar.” Dustin’s face contorted in a half smile half grimace, my yell of warning stuck in my throat as Steve raised his makeshift weapon back towards his shoulder, angle towards the suspicious lump under the tarp.

“Ahh I know you think you’re being funny Henderson but considering everyone in this room has nearly died about a hundred times, personally, I don’t find it funny in the slightest –“ My yell of warning turned into a scream as Max stumbled back into me and Dustin yelled out across the room.

It was hard to tell who was who and if it was Max or Robin standing on my foot and digging their sharp nails into my arm, or if it was my hair or someone’s else blurring my vision. In the mass of confusion and combined screams, I watched through the curtain of hair in my face, a large dark shadow spur from the depths of the boat and tackle Steve out of sight. The chains that suspended the boat rattled loudly as he screamed out.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.” Steve’s voice was smacked out of him in a rush of breath as he was pinned against the wall. My stomach dropped in a mixture of nerves and almost giddy excitement as the familiar outline of the Eddie’s vest reflected in the moonlight.

“WOAH WOAH WOAH.” The beams of our flashlights swung around the room madly, illuminating pieces of a terrifying puzzle that didn’t make sense. Robin tripped as I shoved her out of my way to race them around to the other side, scrambling to reach him before the fragments of the image in front of me really came into focus. Steve was frozen against the exposed metal sheets of the wall, pure fear clouding his face as the veins of his neck strained away from the broken beer bottle held to the thin skin under his jaw.

“Eddie, EDDIE! STOP.” Dustin’s arm slammed out against my chest and knocked my breath away, shoving me back into the unsuspecting arms of Robin and Max as they caught up with me.

“Eddie.” Dustin’s voice was low and careful, like he was dealing with a startled animal as I struggled beside him. Max had her hand clenched around the tail of my jacket as I thrashed against her, not caring about Steve whimpering under the threat of the exposed sharp glass, just needing to get to him. All I could see, all I cared about was that Eddie was here. Living and breathing just mere inches out of my grasp, I needed to hold him, to be able to reach out and touch him to make sure he was really here.

But that’s when I looked at Eddie and really saw him. His hair was wild, plastered to his forehead in sweat and swinging madly around his chin because he was shaking from head to toe, his eyes pinned to Steve’s face like. He didn‘t recognise him, or any of us. If Steve looked scared, Eddie was downright prettified, like we were monsters. My still heart beat once, and then clenched painfully as the possibilities of what could have possibly had Eddie so terrified, flashed through my mind.

I’d failed, whatever new cursed happenings were befouling our town again, had Eddie clutched in the depths of its claws. I hadn’t kept him safe, and a gnawing sense of gloom in the pit of my stomach, told me I was the reason it had captured him in the first place.

“Edward.” I whispered, hanging off Dustin’s arm as my knees shook, Steve gasped out a cry of pain as the broken bottle dug in deeper and Eddie’s eyes flashed to mine. I buckled completely at the look in them as our gazes met, there wasn’t a trace of the love and adoration I’d woken up to most days, there wasn’t even any of the disbelieving pain that filled his eyes with tears when I lied to him on the field yesterday.

Only pure, unyielding rage and fear stared back at me from the depths of his now black eyes, narrowed in suspicion as he either refused to or didn’t recognise me.

“It’s us.” Dustin pleaded, holding his hand out in front of him slowly as I stopped struggling beside him.

“It’s Dustin, and Steve.” He probed further, taking a step towards them as Eddie’s shaking eased up.

“He’s not gonna hurt you, right Steve?” Robin slid her hand into mine and squeezed as our eyes locked on the pair of them.

“Right, yeah.” Steve nodded as much as he could without risking further injury, glancing over to us in panic as we hesitated.

“Steve, why don’t you drop the oar?” Dustin suggested, it clattered to the ground beside us with a resounding crack, the muscles in Eddie’s arm tensed as he dug the bottle in further, drawing a dark dribble of blood that curled down the curve of Steve’s neck.

“He’s cool! He’s cool.” Dustin yelled out, half to us because Robin tensed to charge forward at the look of pain on Steve’s face.

“I’m cool man, I’m cool.” Steve agreed, panting heavily.

“What are y’doing here?” Hearing him finally speak caressed my burning soul, even laced in anguish and disbelief, he still sounded like Eddie.

Like my Eddie.

“We’re looking for you.” I trembled, reaching out and curling my fingers hopelessly in the empty air in front of us as Eddie refused to meet my gaze, tightening his lips at Steve as he held back tears.

“We’re here to help.” Robin encouraged, her grip around my hand turning vice like as I wobbled dangerously.

“Eddie, we’re your friends.” Dustin pleaded, his voice cracking.

“You know Robin, and you know Max, and y/n-“ Dustin stopped as Eddie’s glassy eyes shot back at me, the hardness in them softened as he slowly ran his gaze up and down my frame, going wide like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“Eddie, we’re on your side.” Dustin promised, my throat tightened as the need to speak up overwhelmed me, but I let my brother take the lead.

“I swear on our mother,” Dustin snapped to look at Max, Robin and I huddled half behind him to get us to agree. “Right guys?”

“Yes, yes we swear.” Max narrowed her eyes in earnest.

“Yeah, on Mrs Henderson.” Robin breathed, swivelling her eyes back and forth from where Eddie still had Steve pinned tightly against the wall.

“Yeah Dustin’s… Dustin’s mother.” Steve gasped for air as his grip loosened and Robin shot forward to catch him as he slid down the wall, his hands flying up to cup his throat as the others went to check on him. I’m sure I’d feel bad about it later, but I only had eyes for Eddie,

“Eddie, we just want to talk.” Dustin followed him as he crumbled against the far wall, sinking down onto a crate as he began to shake madly.

“We want to know what happened?” Eddie flinched at the sound of my voice, closing his eyes as I crouched down beside him, he recoiled but then relented as I reached out to wrap my fingers around his wrist to steal the broken bottle from him, the others breathed a sigh of relief and moved in closer around us as I passed the weapon back to Dustin.

“You won’t believe me.” Eddie’s whimper caused his pain to feel like my own and I moved to grip his hand in both of mine, his lip trembled as he met my stare, running his eyes over my face as I soaked up the scratches and light bruises across his cheekbones. I tightened my hold on him so hard my own hands began to shake.

“I will.” I promised. In the moonlight that glowed softly through the open space of the back wall, the ring that Eddie had given me glinted on his pinkie. I bit my lip to stop myself from crying, reaching out to twist it along the length of his finger. He glanced down at me as my skin brushed his, a thousand unsaid words flashing between us the memories of yesterday reared its ugly head, accusations and confusion reflected in his gaze while apologies and admissions flared in mine.

Eddie | March 1986

“Her body just liked, lifted up into the air and, uh, she just like hung there. In the air. And her bones… Uh, she… Her bones, started to snap. Her eyes, man. It was like there was something, inside her head, pulling. I didn’t know what to do, so I… Ran.” I hunched over and pressed my hand against my head, digging my fingertips deep into my skin like I could pull the images through my skull to throw them away.

“You think I’m crazy right?” All of their faces stared down at me in what had to be shock and scepticism. I was the one saying it and I still didn’t believe it.

“No we don’t think you’re crazy at all.” Dustin sounded so sincere, I almost believed him for a moment.

“Don’t bullshit me man, I know how this sounds.” My voice rose to an unattractive shrill as my thin veil of patience snapped and the panic seeped through, the sounds of what I described echoed in my mind as I dug my nails into my head, trying to rip them away.

“We’re not bullshitting you.” Max’s fierce face shone with truth as she scowled at me, almost endearingly as my violent words hung in the air between us all. I’d paused for a moment to wait for the screaming, for the accusations and disbelief but they’d just stared back at me with shared expressions of timid worry – like they’d been expecting bad news for a while and here I was handing it to them on a silver platter. This entire thing had to be some cruel nightmare, or maybe or bad trip because there was no way they’d barely had any reaction to me admitting to being a witness to a brutal supernatural murder.

“I believe you.” Her words sent an unwelcome thrill through me, and I was slow to look back at her where y/n crouched beside me because I didn’t want to feel the things I knew I would, that I wasn’t allowed to anymore after what happened on the field. Because even here, under the looming threat of evil killer forces and angry towns people out for my head for a crime I didn’t commit, seeing her still made me heart clench and my stomach twist excitedly. My gaze travelled to her lips as they trembled and she ran her tongue over them, sending a jolt of desire through me that I tried to ignore. She shrunk under my unblinking stare as I met her eyes.

I’d been right, she believed that I wasn’t the one to hurt Chrissy, and had come looking for me, or maybe Dustin had dragged her along with him. Either way, her face shone with blinding truth, urging me to open up to her and trust that she meant what she said. As much as every fibre of my being yearned to rip her up into my arms and into melt into her with gratitude for not giving up on me yet, her cold and cruel words that broke and shattered my heart yesterday resounded in my ears , undermining everything she was telling me and showing me now.

“Look, what I’m about to tell you might be a little … difficult to take.” Dustin broke the silence between us as the heaviness between our gazes began to suffocate me. Y/n shot up from her position and dropped my hand, turning on little Henderson as black rage filled her features, a warning burning in her eyes.

‘Okay.” I dragged out, doubting there was anything he could say that could top the events of my last twenty-four hours, and noticing the uncomfortable glances that the others shot each other as he leaned towards me eagerly.

“Dustin… Don’t.” Y/n snapped, advancing on him and trying to block me from view. Robin’s face grew alarmed as Steve moved forward, placing a hand on Dustin’s shoulder as y/n shot him a betrayed look.

“You know how people say Hawkins is… Cursed?” Dustin leaned around her to stare me down, ignoring her as she snapped at him to stop, turning on the others with a furious scowl as they murmured agreements that Dustin was right to tell me ‘it’.

“Dustin, stop.” She warned, clenching her fists by her sides as the hairs on the back of her neck raised.

“They’re not, way off.” Dustin’s mouth turned down as he shot his sister an apologetic look, keeping his eyes trained on her as she stormed away from us and reached up to tangle her hands in her hair, a quite sob drifted through the air as she turned her back. Dustin’s gaze, as was the others, was full of turmoil and pity as he looked back to me.

Even without my wristwatch I knew what time it was, I was stiff and sore from sitting in the same position by the opening in the wall all night, watching the moon dance across the sky and now the blinding sun take its place, the glittering water of the lake turning from a deep dark blue into a dazzling sister of the sky above it.

The warm breeze that floated through and rifled my loose hair around my chin, also swirled around y/n’s exposed skin. I glanced over at her sleeping form in the gently swaying boat, she had taken off her jacket and rolled it up as a makeshift pillow that she’d tucked under her head and the gritty tarp was resting around her waist. She’d drifted off around three or four, after a deep silence filled the charged space between us as our stiff words trailed off into the dark night.

Dustin’s implausible story had been playing on repeat all night, jolting me awake whenever I was lucky enough to nab a few seconds of slumber. I couldn’t believe him, the words tumbling from his mouth belonged in one of our DnD campaigns, not real life. Not our lives, we lived in boring old judgmental Hawkins, things like this didn’t happen here. Except apparently they had, because y/n and the others didn’t counter what little Henderson was saying, they only spoke up to add details as they offered up a different, darker, sinister retelling of the past few years.

“There’s another world. A world hidden beneath Hawkins, sometimes, it bleeds into ours.”

“Like ghosts and shit?”

“A curse.”

“Vecna’s curse.”

“An undead creature of great power.”

It was enough to mind fuck me for the rest of my miserable life, as short as it might be, but it was what y/n had talked about once the others left that had kept me on edge as I watched the morning sunshine crawl slowly across her. The group had agreed that someone should stay with me and after one look at her face after Dustin told me the truth, no one had tried to argue with her when she offered to be the one.

Henderson tripled checked the lock on the door as she slid it closed behind the others, pocketing the walkie Dustin had left her as they muttered goodbyes and promised to be back at dawn. I watched her stalk past the front windows as she pointedly avoided my gaze, busying herself with the rusted locks on the glass panes.

“So… upside down hey?” She flinched slightly as my voice cut through the heavy silence, her eyes were guarded as she slowly turned to face where I sat in the middle of the swaying boat, twisting my rings as the moonlight reflected off of them. I sounded a hell of a lot calmer and confident than I felt, and her eyes searched my face like she was thinking the same thing.

“…Yeah. It’s a lot to take in. I know.” She fiddled with the hem of her jacket as she stood awkwardly ridged, glancing away quickly whenever our eyes met. She looked the same as she had yesterday, just completely sober and with darker circles under her eyes. But it was like I was looking at a completely different person.

“You didn’t tell me.” I accused, anger flowing through me as the realisation came crashing down all at once. A tingling heat danced across my skin as she met my gaze with a scathing stare.

“What was I supposed to say Eddie? It’s not exactly first date material.” She scoffed, pacing across the flooring as she clenched her fists menacingly, as angry as I was I couldn’t deny how cute she looked when she was mad.

“I don’t even know who you are.” The truth of the words broke my heart as they stumbled from my lips, and from the look on her face as she froze in place and swivelled her eyes up to meet mine, they stung her just as bad.

“Me? I thought I knew you.” She spat the words at me as her chest heaved, stomping a few steps towards me glared down at me. The words flowed from her like a broken dam as she tripped over some of them twisting on her tongue.

“Like I get that you saw me with Jason and you don’t know why you don’t know anything I mean Dustin told you some things but not everything because I haven’t even told them everything so you don’t understand the whole story and I wasn’t doing it to hurt you I swear but I had to keep you safe so I said those thing things I didn’t mean and oh god they fucking hurt me to Eddie but you had no idea what I was trying to keep you safe from and it didn’t even work because look at what’s happened now but that’s why I tried to stay away from you in the beginning but I fucking couldn’t and I know I said it wasn’t but I thought what we had was real…”

Her shoulders slouched as the words wrapped in honey sprang forth, I sat still, shocked for a moment as their meaning washed over me. It took me a second to wrap my head around it and my heart barely had time to beat alive again before she threw another curve ball at me.

“I saw you with her… with Chrissy.” How well I knew y/n, because under the pain and anguish the filled her face as she brought up the traumatic event that now involved both of us, undoubtedly affecting if not ruining the rest of our lives, I could still see the jealousy beneath the surface.

“It was drugs y/n.”

“What?”

“Drugs, she wanted something stronger than weed. And I… I never would have done it, but I wanted to get back at Jason… for y’know.”

“Nothing happened between me and Jason. They found me after I ran out of class, and I was destructing. What Dustin said to you, about the fire… and how it wasn’t actually a fire that killed Billy and the others. It haunts me Eddie. Billy wouldn’t have been flayed or dead if it wasn’t for me and after… I dreamed that I was the flesh monster and I killed Billy… and I liked it – in my dream. It feels so fucking real, I can hear his bones snapping apart and feel his blood dripping down my arms and hear everyone’s screams. I don’t know why it happens, when we tried to save Billy the monster sliced me.” She reached down to tear the end of her shirt up her stomach as she pushed down on her pant line, turning to the side so I could see the jagged, red scar again.

“I thought that some part of the monster buried itself within me and changed me – poisoned me - or maybe I’m some sick psycho, and then after a while I started dreaming of a flayed version of me, and she turned grotesque and messed up, I don’t know. I couldn’t sleep, like at all. I was literally going crazy, and I started seeing this shit in real life, that’s why I started smoking weed. Everything felt so fucking real, and then the headaches started… I killed Billy every night in my dreams Eddie, and after a while…

…He turned into you. I couldn’t be the reason you died or got hurt Eddie. Just imagining it was enough to drive me crazy, if it actually happened, I had to do – say- something to keep you away, I am so fucking sorry for what I said. None of it was true Eddie, I-“ Her frame relaxed in defeat as she spoke, dropping her eyes from mine like she was expecting me to react in disgust.

“I’ve made many mistakes, so many that I have to fix for the rest of my life. But you Eddie, are not one of them.”

The boat swung manically, and the chains rattled off the wall as I sprung up and jumped down onto the creaking floorboards, given that I was probably wanted and being hunted for murder at that very moment, and everything I’d seen and heard in the last twenty-four hours made absolutely no fucking sense, I shouldn’t have been thinking about kissing her.

But y/n was the person I loved more than anything on the planet, no matter what she said or did to push me away, she’d have to tie me to the heaviest boulder at the bottom of the deepest ocean to keep me away. But I all knew was that she was in pain, and it was all I needed to know, but it was my responsibility to protect her from everything. Ironic since she was the one sitting in a drug dealers boat house trying to save me.

It didn’t matter what my excuse was because I needed her back in my arms where she belonged and never should have left. The wounds her words on the field had created, screamed in joy as the feeling of her wrapping herself around me as I swept her up and pinned her against the wall, lapped at the festering sores healingly.

The stale smell of our sweat mixed together but it was the most intoxicating thing I’d ever inhaled as I buried my face against her skin, pressing my lips against anything and everything I could get to. Y/n tightened her legs around my waist, and she tilted her head back, crying out my name as tears sprung to my eyes.

Fuck, I needed her.

More than I needed air to breath, my mouth travelled along the soft curve of her neck as she twisted her hands in my hair and my hands tightened on her hips, helping her grind down against me as I moaned into her collar bone. She tugged my head up as her lips searched for mine, moulding to them as we devoured each other. I had never cried from happiness, but the tears swelled over my cheekbones as I crushed y/n to me. I was finally home now, she was home, and no matter how fucked my life got – and it was pretty fucked right now – if I had her, I’d be okay.

The crackle of static from her pocket made us both jump apart in fright, spurring towards the window before we realised it was just the walkie talkie, I let her down to the ground so she could reach for it, but I kept my arms around her waist and my eyes on hers as she brought it between us.

‘Stay safe out there tonight guys, we’ll be back as soon as possible. And we’ll figure this out, we always do. Over and out.” Little Henderson’s optimistic voice signed off as silence surrounded us again, we stayed locked in each other’s embrace before y/n reached up with a steady hand to wipe away the fallen tear that betrayed me.

“It’s going to be okay; I’m going to get you out of this.” Her angelic face moved towards mine purposefully and softly to place one lasting sweet kiss against my lips, when she pulled back her own eyes were glistening with unshed tears as her lips trembled around unsaid words as she stared at me like it was the last time.

Y/N | March 1986

I sprung up in a panic as Eddie launched himself across the room, crouching behind the dirty window as he peered out into the empty forest beyond.

“What is it?” I whispered, sitting up further and letting the tarp pool around my waist. His rings strained against his knuckles as he gripped the windowsill, turning to look at me with fresh fear in his face.

We both jumped a foot high as the door swung open with a loud bang, I let out a frightened scream as Eddie held up his sharp beer bottle that I thought I’d hidden.

“Jesus.” Eddie let out an annoyed sigh of relief as Max, Robin, Dustin and Steve all sauntered through the door, sheepish grins on their faces all still dressed in yesterday’s clothes. Steve gave us an offhand half wave but I could see the relief under his face that we were still here, and seemingly okay. Robins wicked smile grew as her eyes flicked back and forth between Eddie and I, his crumpled jacket in my hands.

“Delivery service.” Dustin grinned, holding up a bag of food that surely didn’t hold any nutritional value, I groaned internally as I thought about how nice a hot shower and my bed would be right about now. Eddie let the bottle clatter to the ground with a smash as he lit up and swiped the bag from his hand, jumping down into the boat across from me as I sat up and crossed my legs, pushing my nest of hair back from my face as they others drew up chairs and made themselves comfortable.

“So we got uh, some good news and some bad news. How do you prefer it?” Dustin asked as Eddie shoved his hand into a box of honeycomb cereal, shoving a fistful of the food into his mouth before his eyes flicked up to me and he held it out with a half-smile, I returned it with a tired smile of my own and grabbed a handful, bringing it to my lips one piece at a time as I listened.

“Bad news first, always.” Eddie grumbled through a mouthful of food as he reached to take a swig of his yoo-hoo.

“Alright bad news. We tapped into the Hawkins PD dispatch with our Cerebo, and they’re definitely looking for you.” I let the cereal tumble through my fingertips as Dustin confirmed what I already knew, but it hadn’t made it easier hearing it out loud. The ghost of Eddie’s smile dropped from his face as his gazed lowered slowly to mine.

“Also they’re uh, pretty sure you killed Chrissy.” Dustin cringed over the words as my stomach shrunk.

“Like a hundred percent kind of convinced.” Max butted in before anyone could react. Silence fell between us as whatever slim veil of hope we’d vainly been holding onto, vanished up in smoke and despair filled the air around us.

“And the good news?” Eddie scoffed, rubbing the knee of his threadbare jeans.

“Your name hasn’t gone public yet. But if we found out about you, then it’s only a matter of time before others do to. And once that gets out everyone and their shallow minded mother will be gunning for you… and anyone close to you” Robins eyes rested on me, worry raging in them. Eddie voiced my thoughts before I could.

“Hunt the freak right?” Eddie had his eyes locked on me as rage filled me, I wouldn’t let anyone touch a single hair on his head, I could see the anger in the lines of my face reflected in his wide-doe eyes.

“Exactly.” Robin agreed.

“Shit.” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes as he hung his head.

“Robin.” I snapped, shaking my head at her. The outlook of our situation was pretty bleak, but I didn’t need her feeding into Eddie’s fears.

“So before that happens, we need to find Vecna, kill him and prove your innocence.” Steve nodded alongside Dustin as shrugged his shoulders like he was talking about taking a stroll in a park.

Eddie wasn’t so easily fooled. “That’s all Dustin? That’s all?”

“Yeah no, that’s pretty much it.” He shot back.

“Listen Eddie, I know everything Dustin’s saying sounds totally delusional, but I’m sure y/n told you some stuff last night. We have actually gone through this kinda thing before-“ Eddie cut Robin off as he chewed on his cheek, turning back to look at me as I picked at my raw nail beds.

“Yeah, y/n filled me in. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.” Eddie gulped and didn’t look convinced at Robin’s reassurance, she glanced at me for back up, I planned on doing everything it took to save Eddie – even if it meant my own life- but I wasn’t going to lie to him.

“Well, bottom line is, collectively… I feel like we’ve got this.” Robin smiled and gave a satisfied shake of her head as everyone else spoke up over each other.

“Theres nothing to worry about.” Dustin waved his hands to get Eddie’s attention as his eyes flung back and forth between Steve, Max and Robin arguing over Demogorgon’s and Russians. Steve scoffed in agreement as Eddie shot them both disbelievingly looks.

My blood ran cold, and everyone froze for a split second as the inclosing sound of police sirens blared fast and loud before everyone sprang into action.

“Shit.” Steve muttered, leaning up from the wooden support beam and turning towards the door.

“Tarp, tarp tarp.” Robin reached down and hastily threw the blue fabric over my back as Eddie launched across the space between us, wrapping his hands around my waist and pulling me down with him as I quickly spread the tarp out over both of us.

The sirens blared closer until they quickly passed, speeding off as the sound died in the distance. Steve let out a deep breath and turned back to us, tugging the tarp down to tell us it was all clear.

“Here, we’re gonna go check that out. Keep the walkie on you, we’ll be in touch. Just – stay here.” He picked up the walkie and tossed it into the boat where it landed against the seat with a clang, swiping his keys and waving his hand for the others to follow.

“Y/n?” Robin called, turning back when she noticed I made no move to follow them, she raised her brows at me but after a quick glance at Eddie’s face, I knew I couldn’t leave. I doubted I’d even be able to, the thought of not being able to see him so I knew he was alright, choked me. If we were separated I would spend the entire time being worried sick that he’d been found or something worse had happened, plus we didn’t know the whole story about the Vecna thing and if it came after Eddie again, I couldn’t bare to let him face it alone.

“You’re gonna stay?” Eddie asked shocked as I shook my head at Robin.

“Always.” I promised, and this time, I meant it.

It had been hours, more than hours. Days, well, technically just one but I was starving and dramatic. The others had kept us updated with their every move, radioing through on the walkie every few hours, they’d told us about Fred, running into Nancy and what they’d found about Victor Creel.

I’d had to pass the walkie to Eddie when they radioed last night to tell us about Max and her symptoms of Vecna’s curse and what it meant, my hands had been shaking so bad I kept pressing all the wrong buttons. Eddie wanted for murder and Max on a death countdown? With the group spread thin and wide, things couldn’t get much worse. They were on Max watch, and hadn’t checked in in a few hours, but it was well past dawn now and I was getting angsty, Eddie as usual, was trying to keep me distracted.

“So… have you thought about where you want to visit first? I mean, once we’re out of this mess.” He was standing at the edge of the hole in the floor beneath the boat, dipping his shoe into the water below and swirling creative patterns. He glanced up to grin at me with a lopsided smile, but his face dropped as he watched mine fall.

“Eddie, I was telling the truth last night when I said that what happened on the field was because I was trying to keep you safe, but… I’m still not good for you, and you need to stay away from me.” My heart clenched horrifically as I watched a spasm of pain cross his features. Water droplets splashed and stained the dry floorboards as he stormed across them to back me into the wall, slamming his hands against it beside my head as he closed in on me.

“Tell me I’m not stupid.” He begged.

“You’re not-“

“Tell me that you love me.” He demanded; his eyes were fierce as I struggled to breathe.

Love

“Please tell me I haven’t been imagining this y/n, if you’re telling the truth and you just said that to keep me safe then tell me that I’m not crazy and you love me.” His gaze searched mine as he bent to my level, forcing to look at him.

“I don’t-“ My voice caught in my throat as a wave of pain threatened to drown me, after what he had already been through, how could I be selfish enough to keep him close to me and in the constant path of danger?

“Please y/n.” His voice had me tittering on the edge.

“I can’t-.” I tried to fight back but it was no use.

“Do you love me?” He pleaded, his dark eyes shining as they flashed between mine.

God, if my love was a grain of sand, there still wouldn’t be enough in all the oceans of the world.

But still, my words failed me.

I curled over as a wrecking ball of physical pain floored me, a ringing sounded in my ears as my head felt like it was about to blow apart, in a flash Steve’s voiced echoed in my mind about what they’d discovered about Vecna’s curse. The headaches and the visions, it all matched up. But the timeline of it was off, I’d been having them for months, how was I still alive?

Eddie’s hands gripped my shoulders as I slowly straightened up, his face contorted in a multitude of emotions as he came to the same realisation. His grip tightened as Dustin’s voice crackled through the walkie in a panic. I stood frozen to the spot as Eddie tore away from me briefly to snatch it up.

Robins quick voice floated through the machine in a frenzy, her words were a blur as my mind spun in a panic and my stomach turned, the words of ‘Victor Creel’ and ‘Music’ broke through my trance as I watched Eddie’s eyes go wide. Dustin’s rapid panicked response shot back through as Eddie raised the walkie to his lips, his eyes locking onto mine as I reached deep into my jacket pocket to pull out the mixtape he’d made me, had it really only been a few days ago? It felt like a lifetime.

I tightened my grip around my lifeline as my entire body shook.

“DUSTIN! Play Max’s favourite song now.”

“What?”

“I DON’T HAVE TIME TO EXPLAIN! PLAY HER FAVOURITE SONG.”

I traced soft circles around the pretty patterns Eddie had drawn on the tape as my headache returned ten folds worse and my vision blackened around the edges.

I was never Eddie’s protector, he was mine.

Chapter Twelve

Let me know what you thought about this chapter, take care sunflowers 🌻

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