#hellcheer buffy au

[theladycarpathia]

So @arisque has heard a LOT about my Buffy AU and while I haven't started a full fic yet, @hellcheerweek spooky prompts was the perfect chance for me to explore the universe a little bit.

Day 1 - Vampire

She’d said she was going to spend the night at Tina’s. 

This isn’t technically a lie. 

The music is so loud that Chrissy can’t hear anyone else unless they shout to her, can’t even hear herself think…which is the way she likes it. All she has to do is dance, lost in a sea of people, and get swept away by the beat. 

Tina’s parents had made the grave error of leaving town and not calling in Tina’s aunt to keep an eye on her. The invite had been extended to anyone willing to come out to Loch Nora on Friday night, which apparently is most of the school.

Chrissy hadn’t taken a whole lot of persuading. She’d made the cheerleading team, but even that hadn’t made her mom happy. Sometimes Chrissy thinks Laura would be happier if she could break Chrissy down into parts, lay out each segment on a table, and twist and carve it down to the daughter she really wants. Sometimes Chrissy thinks she seems to be trying anyway. 

“I’m going to get a drink!” she shouts, gesturing to the kitchen. No one really acknowledges her except for Tina who just nods in return. Carol and Tommy disappeared half an hour ago and Chrissy’s pretty certain that they’re continuing the grand tradition of having sex on other peoples’ beds. 

She pushes her way through the crowds of bodies, narrowly avoiding being elbowed in the head, and slips into the kitchen. The usual punch bowl is there, and she’s already figured out to avoid it. But she has the advantage of knowing where Tina’s family keep their spare sodas. 

She ducks out of the back door, grateful for the cool air. Inside her skin had grown hot and slightly tacky, even in her little dress. The garage door is locked, but Chrissy easily finds the key, hidden on top of the door frame. 

It’s still not completely quiet out here but at least she’s alone. The spare fridge hums quietly along the far wall, next to Mr Cline’s tools and hedge trimmer. Chrissy tugs open the door and grabs for a can of lemonade, the can blissfully cool. She’s drained almost half of it the second she’s cracked the tab.

From here she can still hear the music, and she wonders how the cops haven’t been called yet. But the Morrisons on the other side are elderly and might not notice the music so easily. And the local police usually let a party slide, unless they get numerous complaints. 

She should go back in. She should let Jason dance with her, because he’s made it clear that he’s impatient being kept at arm’s length. It was fine to be linked together in middle school, to have a partner for school dances but now it feels serious. She doesn’t want to be like her mom - marrying her high school boyfriend, because it’s the only option, and letting the cage she chose make her more bitter and miserable with every passing year. 

But when she emerges back outside, the September breeze lifting the curls around her shoulders, something catches her eye.

Chrissy stops. She just saw someone move inside the Morrisons’ front room. 

The Morrisons have lived next to Tina for years. Mrs Morrison bakes oatmeal cookies and always encourages Chrissy to have another. Mr Morrison used to let them come over to use his grandson’s trampoline, until they got too old. Chrissy knows that the figure - young, slim, dark-haired - isn’t either one of the Morrisons. 

It might be their son. But she’s met him, and he’s a man in his forties, with graying hair and wire-rimmed glasses. This isn’t him. 

Something uncomfortable churns in her belly. Maybe there’s another reason why the Morrisons haven’t reported the party to the police. 

She takes a look back at the house behind her. It’s filled with people and she should go get anyone of them to accompany her. Jason maybe, or Patrick. Even Tina would come with her, if she went back and asked. 

But she doesn’t go back and ask. She strides down Tina’s drive and hops across the Morrisons lawn. Their drive is empty, Mr Morrison’s prized corvette tucked away in the garage. There’s a Beemer further down the street, something expensive and new, and she wonders if it belongs to someone at the party, who didn’t want to risk their car getting scratched. 

The house is dark when she reaches the front door, which worries her further still. Surely they can’t be asleep with the noise next door? Maybe their hearing is that bad, or Mr Morrison misplaced his hearing aid again. 

But she knocks on the door anyway, pounding loudly to be heard. 

“Mr Morrison?” she calls. She feels slightly sick - she’s either about to disturb an old couple or there’s something seriously wrong here. “Mrs Morrison? It’s Chrissy Cunningham. I’m a friend of Tina’s?”

But there’s no answer. She peers around to look in the front windows and it occurs to her now that all of the curtains are open. She looks up to be sure and every single one is wide open. 

Why would they leave all of their curtains open? Every other house on the street, save Tina’s, has them closed. And every other house has some form of lights on, a lamp, a porch-light, something. 

Unless someone didn’t want to risk being seen under bright lights. Like the person that Chrissy saw inside the house. 

Chrissy takes a shaky step back, her legs suddenly threatening to give way. The feeling in her body is now screaming at her, telling her that every part of this is wrong. She needs to go back to Tina’s house to use the phone. 

But before she can, there’s a sharp pain in her head, like someone has dug their fingers deep into her scalp. She shrieks and stumbles, her ankle giving way beneath her so that she lands on the grass. But none of that matters, because what she sees in front of her eyes isn’t the clouded night sky, or the quiet mausoleum of the Morrisons house. 

And when it ebbs away she’s left panting, lying on her back on the front lawn. And for a second she wonders if she’s going mad, because she saw, crystal clear, two people breaking into the Morrisons’ back door. It was like she’d been there - she heard the lock break, just audible underneath the sound of the wind chimes. She saw one of them move around, quietly turning off lights. She saw both of them slipping upstairs, barely making a sound on the steps. 

Chrissy pushes herself up on one elbow, even though this makes her head scream in agony. It’s almost tempting to lie back down, let her limbs sink into the coolness of the grass, but unless she’s crazy, someone really did break in. 

If she’d had any of the punch, she might be more willing to believe she was seeing things. But she is painfully sober and has no such luxury. 

She stumbles to her feet, wobbling on shaking legs. She doesn’t know how she saw it or why, just that it has a cost. She’s in no shape to help anyone but she has to try. 

“Mr Morrison!” she shouts, and pounds her open palm on the door. She knows she’s not going to get an answer but she doesn’t know what else to do. 

The dark shape that appears in the window next to her doesn’t even really look human.His face is twisted, with hard ridges across his nose and forehead, mouth slightly too wide like it was made to fit extra teeth. His eyes are the worst, gleaming bright yellow, like something from one of her brother’s video games. 

Chrissy freezes - she can’t help it. Perhaps for the first time she understands what it’s like to be prey, fixed on the spot under the gaze of something hungry. She’s made a mistake by catching his attention. 

Then he vanishes from the window and Chrissy jerks, as though she’s been released from a spell. She only has a second before panic sets in - he saw her. He saw her face. Even if she runs back to the party, it’s not like she can go anywhere. No one is in a fit state to drive her home. 

But the door opens and the face she sees there isn’t the one she expects. 

“Get in!” the school librarian hisses at her, holding out a hand urgently. Chrissy doesn’t move because something about this man has always given her the creeps. She avoids the school library as much as possible, preferring the large public one in town. Something about the dark stacks, the unusual leather-bound books he keeps behind the counter, even the dusty old suits he wears, all make her hair stand on end. And now he’s here, in the darkened doorway of her friends’ neighbors, at the same time as someone - something - terrifying.

“Hurry up!” he snaps and Chrissy moves forward, perhaps against her better judgment, into the stillness of the house. 

Or maybe not that still. 

The front room is still occupied by that man but a young woman has now joined him. Chrissy only has a moment to stare before Mr Bauman pulls her back, tucking her behind the banister of the stairs. There are two other figures there too, young and lanky, but they don’t hold her attention as much as the fight in the front room. 

She knows this girl. They go to school together. She’s wearing combat boots, a sturdy jacket, and she ducks and dodges as the man tries to hit her. She’s fast on her feet, avoiding every swipe of his long, jagged nails. He tries to lunge for her, and misses, and she takes the opportunity to lash out. Her arm strikes, deadly and precise, driving a thick stake into the center of his chest. Chrissy stifles a shriek but his face only shows brief surprise before he fades into dust. 

“Good shot,” Mr Bauman comments, as the girl brushes dust off her arm. She only looks vaguely annoyed, as though men turning to pieces of ash flaking gently on the Morrisons’ carpet is an everyday occurrence. “Even with the unexpected…interruptions.”

All too late, Chrissy realizes that he’s looking at her. 

“They’re all too cocky,” the girl complains, nudging at the pile of dust with her toe. “Do we need to clean this up?”

“Is that part of our job now?” one of the boys asks, and when he moves out of the darkness behind the banister, Chrissy gets a better look at his face. She knows him too - it’s Jonathan Byers, from the school paper. “Cleaning up afterwards?”

“No, it is not,” Mr Bauman says, tensely. “We’ll let Hopper know…I’ll leave a message with the usual code. The better question is, why is a cheerleader here?”

“There’s a party next door,” another voice says, the final occupant. Chrissy doesn’t ask why two boys and a grown man were hiding behind the stairs, while a fifteen year old girl fights. They’re all carrying the same weapons, a heavy stake, sharpened to a point, except for the boy in front of her, who has a bat hanging from his fingers. It takes her a second to realize that her eyes aren’t tricking her, but the odd shape of the wood is from dozens of nails being driven into the end. “Tina’s thing.”

As if this night couldn’t get any weirder - Steve Harrington, King Steve, is staring at her like she doesn’t belong here. 

“What just happened?” Chrissy asks and is a little surprised at how faint her voice sounds. Maybe the strange visions took that too. The four all look at each other and in that moment, Chrissy realizes a few things. That none of this is unusual for them, and that despite their various differences, they’re here working together. 

“That,” the girl says, pointing down at the floor. “Was a vampire. We’ve been tracking him for a while. We were pretty sure that someone was working Loch Nora. Too many break ins lately. So I staked him.”

“Robin!” Mr Bauman says, looking put out. And a vague memory pushes itself to the front of Chrissy’s head. The Hawkins High band, in fresh green outfits and white gloves, a sea of faces…or perhaps not. Because the girl staring back at Chrissy, her gaze cool, is one of those people that she’s seen out of the corner of her eye on so many mornings. 

“She just saw it,” Robin protests. “It’s not like we can hide it!”

“A little discretion might be advised,” Mr Bauman continues, looking tired. Chrissy kind of can’t blame him. She’s been involved in this mess for five minutes and she’s already exhausted. “It’ll do us no good if your position as the Slayer is revealed to the world by the school paper!”

“Chrissy’s okay,” Steve offers, thumping his bat against one of the mahogany side tables. “She won’t tell.”

“And we wouldn’t publish that anyway!” Jonathan says indignantly. Chrissy doesn’t stop to ask for any further detail - what is a Slayer anyway? - because she’s busy looking around. The rest of the house is quiet, no creaking of footsteps overhead. 

“Where’s the other one?” she asks and is met by four very startled faces. 

“What other one?” Steve asks, tilting his head.

“The other one,” Chrissy says and wraps her arms around herself. They’re all dressed sensibly, thick material prepared for the warmth and any oncoming attacks but she’s wearing a little black dress that brushes her thighs. “I saw…” she trails off, because she didn’t really see, did she? She never went around the back of the house. 

Mr Bauman is looking at her with a strange expression. “And where exactly,” he inquires carefully. “Did you see that?”

“I don’t know,” Chrissy says weakly. “I was at the party and I noticed it was all dark over here. I knocked on the door and there was no answer.”

“Did you see two people?” Mr Bauman pushes. Chrissy licks her lips. She’s going to sound crazy…but what if she’s not? What if there really are two and there’s another vampire roaming free? There’s a party of kids next door, all too high on music and alcohol to be anything other than easy pickings.

“I saw two people come in the back door,” she says hesitantly. “They turned off all the lights and went upstairs…I can’t explain how I saw it but I swear, I-” Mr Bauman holds up a hand. There’s something oddly delighted about his face and she’s not sure she likes the satisfaction there. 

“How interesting,” he says and moves across to her. “I thought your eyes looked a little bloodshot but I just thought that was from the party…does your head hurt? Eyes feel sensitive? Do you feel weak and disoriented?”

“What the fuck, Murray?” Steve asks, stalking across to where Murray is peering into Chrissy’s eyes. “Can we not dissect her?” But Murray has already taken a step back, looking triumphant. 

“She’s a seer,” he says and Robin guffaws. 

“She can’t be,” she says, looking back at Chrissy in disbelief. “She’s a cheerleader. I thought you said true seers are really rare…”

“Is it so hard to believe in Hawkins?” Mr Bauman asks, tucking his stake into his pocket. “She has all the signs. I don’t believe she went around the back of the house - chances are we would have seen her as we came in that way ourselves. And I doubt she was here much longer than a few minutes or the vampire would have found her sooner. So how did she see two vampires? And she has all the symptoms. It’s not an easy thing, receiving a vision. Excruciatingly painful, I’ve heard…and you definitely saw more than one?”

“There’s two,” Chrissy says, looking around at each skeptical face. She’s worried that they won’t believe her but they also just staked a vampire, so she finds that a touch unfair. “I saw two.” Ha! Like I said!

“I fucking told you,” Steve says, sounding disgruntled. He sweeps his hair back from his face, a motion Chrissy must have seen hundreds of times. Normally he does it carefully, aimed at whatever girl has taken his fancy, but this is brisk, efficient. 

“Well, sorr-ee,” Robin snaps back tensely. “I wasn’t expecting vampires to get a taste for rich people.”

“They’re vampires!” Steve says back incredulously, throwing out his arms. “They’re not picky!”

“Alright, children,” Mr Bauman snaps, effectively cutting off the argument. “That’s enough. We have bigger problems afoot here.”

Something about his tone is unsettling. She’s not sure what he’s doing here, like he’s leading three teenagers into battle. She gathers that Robin is something special, but the rest of the dynamics she hasn’t quite worked out yet. The loner, the misfit, and the jock, all here under the lead of the school librarian. 

“I think she’s right,” Mr Bauman says, gesturing to Chrissy with the end of his stake. “It doesn't make sense otherwise. There would have been noise, some screaming. It wouldn’t be possible unless there were two.”

“Two for what?” Chrissy asks suspiciously and the room goes very quiet. Jonathan will no longer meet her eyes. Even Steve looks uncomfortable, an unhappy twist to his mouth. She takes off up the stairs before any of them can stop her, adrenaline pushing her legs to move faster than they ever have done before. 

The terrible feeling earlier now made sense. 

The Morrisons had gone to bed. They’re lying silently, side by side, Mr Morrison in pinstripes, Mrs Morrison in a flowered nightdress. They’re on their backs, faces still and peaceful like they hadn’t even known that they had died. 

It was only the neat holes pierced in their necks, each one wearing a matching pair, blood beginning to dry and crust on their skin that gave away the truth. 

The only consolation is that the music will ensure no one else hears her scream.

[baddreamsandoldbones]

Hellcheer Week Day 3 - Cursed

@hellcheerweek I reference this particular event in one of my previous Buffy oneshots. I didn't get time to write the whole thing but maybe I can finish it after the event.

“Halloween,” Robin says with relish, as they haul boxes. Although some are managing easier than others - Robin can carry three boxes of books with ease and Chrissy feels like her arms are about to drop off. “My night off.”

“Why is that again?” Eddie asks, saving Chrissy from having to do it. She doesn’t look up, even though she can almost feel the heat of his body from where their elbows are mere inches from each other. 

She hadn’t expected this to happen when Eddie joined their group. 

“The vamps think it’s too commercial,” Steve says, passing by. “Like it’s a cliche if they roam the streets when everyone is out in costume.”

“Huh,” Eddie says, resting a crystal ball in the palm of his hand. “You’d have thought it would be easier to sneak around while everyone else is dressed up.” Robin just shrugs. 

“Who cares why they do it, I just know that I get to relax at home and watch Nightmare on Elm Street,” she says and rips through a cardboard lid to peer inside. “Uh…Murray, where do you want the assortment of chicken feet?” 

“Why exactly are we sorting all of this junk?” Steve asks, and gets swatted around the head for his trouble. 

“A fellow watcher retired and sent me all of his resources,” Murray says, as though he hadn’t just removed a few of Steve’s brain cells with a copy of Common Curses. “He thought I might have a use for them living on the Hellmouth.”

“Okay, but why send them to the school library?” Jonathan asks, sitting on one of the stairs as he sorts through yet another box. “Literally anyone could walk in and see…” He pulls what looks like a shrunken head out of the box with an obvious look of disgust. “Well, they might have some questions.”

“I wasn’t about to have them delivered to my house,” Murray says, pushing Chrissy aside so he can take a look at the contents of her box. “My neighbors are notoriously nosy and I don’t think I should leave ancient spell books and relics out on my porch all day.”

“Are any of them likely to come alive?” Eddie asks with interest, tossing the crystal ball from one hand to another. 

“No, but if that ball gets too hot in the sun it will set my house on fire,” Murray says pointedly and snatches it right out of Eddie’s hands. “Spell books to my private collection in the back, everything else needs to be loaded into my car.”

“Some of these books look like they’re bound in skin,” Steve says doubtfully and Murray groans. 

“It’s Halloween,” he says, gesturing to the orange and black sign above the counter, like they could miss it. Murray makes a minimal effort to decorate the library for the holiday - it’s not Chrissy’s favorite event but even she finds the skeleton wearing a paper hat a little sad. “Don’t you people have plans?”

“Taking my brother trick or treating,” Jonathan says, and judging by his expression, his box contains more shrunken heads. 

“Band practice,” Eddie says. 

“Eating and scary films!” Robin chimes in, lifting the last few boxes over her shoulder to bring them down to the front desk like they weigh nothing at all. 

“Tina’s having a party,” Steve says, throwing himself down into a chair. But much like Chrissy, he doesn’t look to be racing out of the door. It’s been getting harder these days to care - about parties, about homecoming, about all of it. She knows what’s out there now. She’d much rather be with these people, watching Jonathan make faces and Robin be giddy about her night off. 

“Great,” Murray says weakly as Robin puts the last few boxes down. Eddie tugs the nearest one open and lets out a shout of delight. 

“Hey, is this a Viking drinking horn?” 

“Yes, and it’s old,” Murray says, looking disgruntled. “Box, car, now.”

But Eddie only pretends to put it away, waiting until Murray’s back is turned before he whisks it out again. 

“Isn’t it cool?” he says, his eyes bright. Chrissy risks a peek while he’s enraptured, watching his long fingers turn the horn around to admire it. “Look at these markings.”

“It’s nice,” Chrissy says, because she doesn’t really see the appeal. It has elaborate etchings and even she can recognise the symbols near the mouth as runes. “What’s it for?” 

“They used to drink out of these,” Eddie says, still admiring it. “This one looks like it was made out of a real horn…” Chrissy makes a face out of sight of Eddie’s eyeline. 

“Man,” Eddie says ruefully, holding the horn up to the light. For a second the runes look unusually bright, gleaming against the library’s overhead lighting. “If only Murray would let me have it.”

“What would you use it for?” Chrissy asks and he flashes her a grin. 

“Drink Dr Pepper out of it?” he jokes, pretending to raise the horn to his lips. “Would give my D&D sessions a real air of drama.”

“You play while sitting on a throne,” Chrissy says, without thinking. “Don’t they have enough drama already?” Eddie pauses, lowering the horn. 

“How do you know that?” he asks and Chrissy nearly lets the large chunk of amethyst slip from her fingers. Damn. 

She’s kept her crush on Eddie pretty cool so far. Before he was just…Eddie. He was in the cafeteria, in the back of some of her classes, a vague memory from a middle school talent show. It was easy to keep at a distance. 

And then he joined their party and it all got so much harder. Suddenly she’s very aware of him in a way that she hadn’t been before, and she’s picked up a few details about him that she probably shouldn’t know. 

“I’ve been downstairs,” Chrissy fibs, picking up another book rather than looking at Eddie. “I’ve seen the drama storerooms, remember?”

“Ah,” Eddie says and puts down the horn. “You know…you’d be very welcome to come see us sometime. I know you don’t play and we don’t exactly get a lot of girls down there but…I’d like to see you.”

It’s not exactly a date invitation. But it sounds like something. She knows how seriously Eddie takes his role as head of the club and Dungeon master. He doesn’t just invite people to watch their campaigns. 

“I’d like that,” she says, heart pounding in her chest. She might be wrong, and he’s just being polite. He might have no feelings for her at all. 

But his pleased smile says something different. 

She picks up a smaller box to put by the door - they’ve borrowed one of the AV club carts to move most of the boxes out to Murray’s car - when Eddie tenses. When she looks at him, his face is almost unrecognizable, frozen into a strange, stiff mask. 

“Hey,” she says, because there’s something not right about that terrible stillness in his face. When he still doesn’t respond, she reaches out and rests her hand on his arm. “You okay?”

Eddie jerks suddenly, all of the tension easing out of his face. But he still looks pale, and probably not too different from how she looks after a vision.

“Yeah,” Eddie says, raising a hand to his head. Chrissy knows that gesture - she uses it every time she’s had a vision and the pounding in her head is worse than she wants to let on. “Fuck. Sorry. I just felt lightheaded for a second.”

“Maybe you should sit down,” Chrissy says anxiously. But he just smiles at her and shakes his head. 

“I’m good,” he says, dropping the horn back into the box. “Probably just need to hit the vending machine. Let me take that. I’ll stop by one the way back from Murray’s car.”

“Are you sure?” Chrissy asks, as he removes the box from her arms and stacks it on top of his own. 

“Promise. Red Bull and a Mars bar will fix it,” he says. Jonathan stops counting heads long enough to make a face. 

“I doubt that would fix anything,” he says bluntly. “Fuck’s sake, Murray, how many fucking shrunken heads are in here?”

“Are they human?” Robin asks curiously, peering over the bannister. Jonathan shakes his head. 

“Mostly birds,” he says ruefully. Eddie nudges Chrissy with his elbow, still balancing both boxes. 

“Bet you never had conversations like this with your other friends,” he says, eyes bright. He loves all this, even with the blood and fear that they live with every day. A Dungeon Master finding out that monsters and magic really exists? He’d almost been unable to resist the chance to touch real spellbooks, watch real magic being cast. Steve had even offered to teach Eddie some basic magic to his complete delight.

“Not even,” Chrissy says and turns to the next box. They’re nearly done and she’s almost upset about it. She much prefers being here, in the light with her friends, breathing in the smell of old books and wood polish, rather than going home. 

“I’ll be back,” Eddie says, and as he turns something strange reflects in his eyes, like headlights catching something in the glare of a beam on the road. The unearthly glow against the brightness before whatever it was scurries back into the undergrowth - certainly not a trait for anything human. 

When Eddie returns he bought a packet of Twizzlers just for her and she forgets all about it.

[ymaohoh]

Chrissy the Vampire Slayer AU

“Why are you following me?” Chrissy demanded. Just for once she would have loved to have a normal night out like any other teenage girl, but there was something funny about this guy. She’d been around the block enough to know when to trust her instincts - and this guy was trouble with a capital T. He was eyeing her like she was an ice cream sundae with extra sprinkles.  “I know what you’re thinking, but don’t worry. I don’t bite,” he smirked. “Truth is, I thought you’d be taller. Or bigger, muscles and all that. You’re pretty spry though…” She didn’t for one minute relax her stance. So he knew who she was, what she hunted. He said he wasn’t a vampire but that didn’t rule out all the other creepy things that went bump in the night. “What do you want?” “Same thing you do.” “OK, what do I want?” “To kill ’em. To kill ’em all.” She sighed. “Sorry! That’s incorrect but you do get this lovely watch and a year’s supply of shitty band tee-shirts. What I want is to be left alone…” She could hear music coming from The Bronze, as well as the sounds of kids hanging out and having fun. She was supposed to be inside trying to make friends, damn it, not exchanging wise cracks with some wannabe punk in a dimly lit alley. “D’you really think that’s an option anymore? You’re standing on the mouth of Hell. And it’s about to open.” He reached into the pocket of his faded leather jacket. He tossed a black jewelry box at her and she caught it without thinking. The guy - whoever the hell he was - turned and began to walk away. “Who are you?” she called. “Let’s just say, I’m a friend.” “Yeah, well, maybe I don’t want a friend.” “I didn’t say I was yours.” Inside the box was a pretty silver cross on a delicate chain. Chrissy examined it for a moment before stuffing the box in her pocket. What a freak, she thought.

[hellcheer-prompts]

im leaving the fandom. this are some hellcheer aus i had. please take them

Romance Blue Lagoon: The Awakening Ghost A Star is Born Sing Street Waitress Me Before You The Bodyguard Yesterday Footloose Dirty Dancing A Walk to Remember The Vow Fire with Fire

Period Finding Neverland Dangerous Beauty Wuthering Heights The Phantom of the Opera Pride and Prejudice Titanic Water for Elephants Romeo and Juliet Pompeii Grease The Illusionist Moulin Rouge! Tuck Everlasting A Knight’s Tale

Animated Where the Heart is Howl’s Moving Castle Kiki’s Delivery Service Anastasia Lady and the Tramp Tangled

Fantasy I Am Dragon Penelope The Princess Bride Stardust Peter Pan The Sound of Magic The Ash Lad: In the Hall of the Mountain King Timeline Splash Red Riding Hood Beastly Winter’s Tale Legend

Horror Edward Scissorhands Warm Bodies Horns Disturbia The Blob The Crow Queen of the Damned Nightwatch Buffy the Vampire Slayer V for Vendetta Sleeping with the Enemy Bones and All

I’m sorry to hear you’re leaving. Please take care of yourself. No fandom is worth more than the people in it, yourself included. I hope you find something to bring you joy soon!

[disco-tea]

Hi! Okay so I saw you also ship Hellcheer and yay! Cuz I thought of a hellcheer inspired au for Buffy and Spike and I think you might appreciate it?

So, this would be like, the Buffy we met before she became the slayer (she's a cheerleader and in her cheer outfit). So she hasn't been chosen just yet, but it's coming and she's like starting to see weird things (demons and vamps) but hasn't had to fight yet. But obvi she feels like she's losing it. So she goes to the local drug dealer cuz she just thinks she's crazy and she needs to calm down somehow. Enter Spike (starts off human), who is the local drug dealer lol. But he's not in high school. She's a senior so she's 18 and he's like 25. (Also side note but he has a band too, singer/guitar/songwriter with his bestie Oz on backup vocals/guitar and human Clem on drums lol). And so she's never done drugs she's nervous and Spike looks scary obvi. But then this is where the picnic scene comes in (she's scared cuz of the visions and he's suspicious but then can tell she's really scared, she doesn't want him to leave, he gets her to relax and smile) and then she goes to his trailer and she feels safe with him, he keeps making her smile and laugh. They get to have some moments before! Okay they do get to smoke a bit of weed and it's Buffy's first time (I think it should be her first time) like she's not super high but she's relaxed and still knows what she's doing. So Spike puts a record on, Buzzcocks (I do think Buffy would like them) and it's "Ever Fallen in Love (with someone you shouldn't've)" cuz, yeah lol. And like maybe they're kinda head banging jumping around (cheesy lol) but you know the lyrics, and they kinda slow down and they looking into each others eyes and maybe they're loosely holding each other not realizing it and kinda swaying and it finishes and then they kiss for the first time. And then Giles comes and tells her she's the slayer and some dangerous vamps are coming for her.

It's Angel (no soul) and Dru. They came to get the jump on Buffy. (Idk why but I don't see Darla in this) Dru bites him and is his sire, Spike is obvi drawn to her. But Spike is still loyal to Buffy on some level. So he's def like gray morally speaking in this from the get-go.

(And it's so devastating for Buffy. She thinks she's crazy and then she meets someone she'd never talk to otherwise and they vibe so well and then she finds out she's the fucking slayer. And then he turns into a vamp. And she's going to blame herself.)

(Also let's pretend vamps turn instantly) and that's why she hesitates with staking him and he gets away with Dru and Angel. And then he joins the dark side blah blah. So they have this history, and then kinda like an in season 2 there's end of the world thing Angel is trying to do so it's reluctant teaming up but they know and like each other and it's tense and it's weird and there's UST. So of course Buffy's like, oh I can't want to like him he's a vamp now blah blah but then they're working together and she's like, he's so like the Spike I knew?? Like he acts like how he did before sometimes. And then yeah they can't keep apart duh lol.

Sorry it's like super long😅😅😅 but anyways I think it's such a fun au for them? And also hellcheering was too fun to resist! Lol

Sorry it took me so long to reply, I keep forgetting to check my inbox. I’ll admit I never really thought of a hellcheer AU for them even though their archetypes are similar/adjacent. This is v fun! I especially love the idea of Spike and Oz and human!clem in a band, that sounds so fun.

[lodessa]

✨ 2022 Writing Year In Review ✨

Thanks to @feeisamarshmallow​ for tagging me! Sorry it took me a while to get to it!

1. Number of stories posted to AO3: 10

2. Word count posted for the year: 37,228

3. Fandoms I wrote for: Stranger Things, Star Trek: Voyager ( and a hint of Prodigy), Revolution, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Battlestar Galactica.

4. Pairings: Chrissy Cunningham/Eddie Munson, Kathryn Janeway/Chakotay Charlie Matheson/Miles Matheson, Faith Lehane/Buffy Summers, Lee "Apollo" Adama/Kara "Starbuck" Thrace"

5. Story with the most:

Kudos: Five Times No One Saw Eddie and Chrissy Together (No Make That Four) 303 Kudos on my entry into a new fandom.

Bookmarks: (See most kudos above) 47 Bookmarks

Comments: (Same) 20 Comment Threads.

6. Work I’m most proud of (and why):

"Don't Leave Me Dry" I think. There's something about writing a fic you know is going "bomb" but you just want to write it so much you do it anyway. I knew going into it that once again I was writing a problematic ship in a dead fandom, that would probably be commented on by @romeorevoarchive and one other person, but I was struck with one little moment, that kind of inspiration that usually gets trapped in the shower or car, and I went for it anyway and do you know what: I love the immediacy, the way I ended up using music to frame it, the characterization, the physicality, the rawness and tenderness that feels so quintessentially Miles and Charlie.

7. Work I’m least proud of (and why):. . .

This is maybe going to sound weird (or entitled and bratty) and also sound contradictory to what I said in the prior response, but. . . 23K of the 37k words I wrote were my three part More Normal Things series and part of me wishes I had just left that whole thing with the first part. While the hit count didn't drop that much between them, every other metric (kudos, comments, bookmarks) took a nose and it just makes me feel like I should have quit while I was ahead. Maybe I should have written the more flashy concept Hellcheer AUs I had instead of continuing to just explore their dynamic. Maybe I should have just been pleased with the amazing welcome to the fandom I got on that first fic and moved on after that positive little moment. There are things I really liked about those second two parts, but it is obvious that readers felt diminishing returns, and that makes me wish I had updated any of my other series or WIPs instead.

8. Share or describe a favorite review you received:

Is it cheating to choose a whole series of comments I received / comment conversation I had in response to Salvation and Rapture For the Lonely? They started with this gem

and only got better from there. When I finally posted my Martha/Nine epic in 2018, I knew that it was ten years late and a super niche pairing to begin with, but it was my hope that at least one person out there would stumble upon it and be really excited for the same reasons that most people would not be interested at all, and in the last four years that is exactly what has happened a handful of times. This wonderful human left effusive, detailed, comments on every chapter and then responded to my rambling replies in a way that gave me that high of finding someone who just GETS IT.

9. A time when writing was really, really hard:

Most of the year, honestly. I really struggled to write anything most of the time (pretty much the only time writing was really flowing was August).

10. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you: 

I definitely didn't see Hellcheer as a ship (or writing anything for Stranger Things) coming. If you had told me that my new ship in 2022 would be some freshly introduced high school kids from a single episode of the show, I would have been skeptical.

11. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

From "Whispered" :

“Going to take more than that to get rid of me, Summers.” Faith feels herself smile, mostly because it hurts to move her face that much.

“Good,” Buffy smiles back, doing that lip biting thing that is a suggestion and a protestation of innocence at the same time. Perfect. Humanizing. Prudish. Primal. The reluctant hero. The girl who knows or doesn’t know she’s hot. “We still have a First Evil to defeat.”

We. When was the last time either of them actually believed that even existed? Had Buffy ever? Or was it only Faith who even wanted that to be true? No. Buffy just wanted everyone to play by her rules, not the other way around. Sometimes, Faith even wished she could do that, be relegated to a sidekick instead of a problem. If there’s one constant in the world it is me being a disruption, a wrinkle in someone’s perfect life… No. She reminds herself. I don’t have to be. I can be different.

Buffy is looking at her, really looking at her, and Faith wonders what she sees. She must look like shit. Feeling superior as usual, B? she thinks, but that’s not really what she sees in her expression. If I’m vulnerable, so are you. That it? She’s not sure that’s quite right either, but no more comforting thought is coming to mind, so she looks away.

12. How did you grow as a writer this year: 

Honestly 2022 was pretty much a fallow year for me as a writer. I suspect I won't see what changed in my writing until I am looking back on it from the perspective of what I write in 2023.

13. How do you hope to grow next year:

I would really like to get better at being able to push through and get words typed more consistently even when they are not flowing.

14. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc): 

@romeorevoarchive who held my hand through everything I wrote or didn't write this year and even read some fic for a fandom she doesn't care about. Also special shout out to @anverli for the visual inspiration for (Don't Leave Me Dry) and many people but especially @phoenixwrites for the enthusiastic welcome to Hellcheer.

15. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

Probably the most personal work I wrote this year was Exhausted Midas. I've been feeling really overwhelmed and burnt out, both like I need and want to do more and like I need to cut back on my commitments. I've been dropping a lot of balls. It is hard not to feel like this is who I am now, and I feel like that's a lot of what I was exploring with this character study of Janeway, pre-Prodigy.

16. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

This isn't new but here are a few reminders for myself and others:

Just because you are struggling to write right now doesn't mean you will never write again. Try to relax. Read. Trust that inspiration and focus will come together again someday.

Learn to scale down the scope of a writing project, just because "what happens" is big, doesn't mean you need to show it all: skip to the most interesting part, do abrupt transitions if you need to, add flashbacks if you need context instead of writing thousands of words to get to that critical detail

Find a buddy you can talk through the process with while writing, someone who you can send snippets to, someone you can bounce ideas off of, someone to make you feel less alone and in your own head.

Sit down and do flash fiction based on any prompt. There's something about just finding a way to make some constraint work and typing out whatever you can in what sitting before setting it loose on the world.

17. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

Last week, I came across a list from two years ago with 20 things on it. I had actually written and posted 1, which means who knows what will happen but right now:

I would really like to update (and possibly even finish) one of my major partly posted WIPS: k'war'ma'khon (my Georgiou!lives Discovery AU) and Dragon Marked (my soulmarks, reincarnation, modern with some magic Dany/Jorah epic).

I would like to complete my long planned sequels for The Smallest Twine (my Janeway and Chakotay meet before the end of the Cardassian War and that changes EVERYTHING AU . . . though it makes me sad to think about how Laura inspired it all and she's not here to enjoy the rest of it now) and the next installment of Balancing Act (my Logan/Veronica/Weevil threesome + series)

I would like to finally finish and post some of the in progress fics that have been languishing in my Google Drive for years, including but not limited to: the Veronica Mars Season 3 AU I started in 2014, the Greek Myth AU Janeway/Chakotay fic, my Jaime/Brienne, Sansa/Aegon, Davos/Jon Connington ASOIAF solution.

Some fic ideas I have not actually written, including but not limited to: Miles gets swapped with an alternate timeline version of himself Revo fic, Hellcheer Room With a View AU, that BtVS/Punisher crossover fic with Faith/Billy Russo (okay that pairing actually the whole idea), my inevitable Elendil/Mirael fic.

18. Tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read.

Let's go with: @clarasimone, @liminal-zone, @janiedean, and @lilalbatross but anyone who wants to do this, should

[we-are-only-halfway-home93]

Chrissy the Vampire Slayer- Beauty and the Beast- [Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham]

Summary: Chrissy Cunningham learns a secret about her not-boyfriend.

Characters: Eddie Munson, Chrissy Cunningham, Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers, Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley.

Warnings: Language, rough sex, oral sex, violence.

AN: I saw a picture on here a few months ago depicting Chrissy as Buffy the Vampire Slayer and I couldn't get this idea out of my head. Thus, I present: Chrissy the Vampire Slayer

~*~

It was between fifth and sixth period when Chrissy realized her not-boyfriend wasn’t human.

She’d been walking down the hall heading from French to Government with Nancy Wheeler when she heard the chanting of “fight” break out ahead of her. A crowd had started to form and she threw her elbows around to get through. 

Dustin Henderson was leaning against the far lockers, his books scattered across the floor and his eyes wide. On the other side of the hall, against the lockers, Eddie Munson had Andy Johnson in a chokehold. 

It was easy to guess what had happened. Andy probably knocked Dustin’s books out of his hands and, knowing Dustin like she did, he probably mouthed off and Andy got pissed. Eddie then would’ve come to the rescue though she was surprised he’d gotten physical with Andy. In the time that she’d known him, she hadn’t seen him instigate anything against the jocks of Hawkins High.

Whatever set him off, must’ve been really bad. 

Eddie stood up and sent a solid punch to the side of Andy’s head. “Eddie, stop!” She called. Andy sent a jab to Eddie’s ribs and he was released from his choke hold. When he stood, Chrissy could see that Eddie had already gotten a few hits in. Andy’s nose was bleeding and he had a cut above his right eye. 

Andy geared up to charge at Eddie when Chrissy stepped between them. She held both hands out, one on each boy's chest. Her presence shifted their attention from each other, to her. “Enough!” She cried. 

Andy glared at Eddie and spat blood at his feet. Chrissy turned to look at Eddie and froze. While his eyes were narrowed, she could clearly see that they were not his traditional brown. They had shifted to a golden-yellow and she could see the points of fangs behind his upper lip. 

“Eddie,” she said. He glanced down at her and seemed to realize where he was. His eyes widened and she saw them fade to their original brown. He started to back away from her and when she tried to follow, he bolted. 

She watched him retreat, the sound of the bell fading as she followed him. 

.

The summer Chrissy turned sixteen her life changed. Of course, she was thinking it would change in the sense that she would feel older, more mature, finally ready to let her boyfriend go all the way, take over Tammy Thompson’s spot as head cheerleader. What she was wholeheartedly not ready for was a strange British man in tweed to show up at her front door and tell her that she was the “chosen one” and that it was her “destiny” to fight the “evil that roamed the land” or whatever. 

She didn’t believe him at first. It wasn’t until later that night when she was walking home from cheer conditioning that she was attacked by some guy with fangs. Mr. Tweed came along and saved her and it was then that she started to wonder if what he said was true. 

For the rest of that summer, she learned all about what it was to be the slayer because apparently that’s what she was. Mr. Tweed, who she later learned was called Richards, made her read books about all kinds of monsters. Vampires were the most common threat she’d face apparently but it was her duty as the slayer to “stand against demons and the forces of darkness” according to Richards’ speech.

Following Richards’ appearance and his revelation about her life, more things changed. For the worse. Her grades started to slip. It wasn’t because she wasn’t trying, she did. She’d just stopped turning in homework and studying. When she spent most nights patrolling the graveyards for any miscreants, it got kind of hard to study. She slept a lot more in class, too. Just like those late night patrols made it hard to study, they made it hard to get enough sleep at night. 

Jason broke up with her at the start of second semester because she kept blowing him off and lying to him about what she was doing. Honestly, she didn’t end up being too broken up about that change. She was sad to lose who she thought were her friends though. 

After Jason broke up with her, her “friends” picked sides and they all chose Jason. The other cheerleaders whispered about her in the hallways and none of them talked to her outside of practice. It didn’t help keep friends when she couldn't tell anyone about her status as the slayer. She couldn’t make plans after school and she couldn’t spend the night at anyone's house for fear of being attacked or exposed. 

It made for a lonely junior year.

It was the summer before senior year when she learned she wasn’t the only one in Hawkins hunting the things that went bump in the night. 

She was doing her rounds in the cemetery like usual when she heard a scream. She ran towards it like she’s supposed to when she saw Nancy Wheeler run screaming from one of the mausoleums. There was a vampire right on her heels and Chrissy did what she does best. She staked him. 

She turned to Nancy, ready for her gracious thank yous and a forced explanation, only to find one pissed off girl. 

“I needed him,” Nancy said. Chrissy had been confused. She looked around, waiting to see if Richards had set her up for some test but didn’t see anyone besides Nancy. She looked back at her. “You screamed.” 

Suddenly, Jonathan Byers, Steve Harrington, and Robin Buckley appeared from the woods nearby and quickly flanked Nancy. “I was bait,” she said. 

Chrissy had grown more confused so Nancy just jerked her head to the side and they all started walking. Chrissy learned more from Nancy in that night’s conversation than she did from her own watcher. 

Two and a half years ago, Will Byers disappeared without a trace. A few days later, a body was found and there was a funeral. A few days after that, Will Byers appeared like he’d never been dead in the first place. The whole town found it strange and unnerving but quickly moved on. Chrissy remembered these events but hadn’t thought much of them at the time. She did know that the kids at school still called Will zombie boy.

Apparently, Will had been abducted by a demon and transported into a hell dimension where he spent the next week running and hiding from said demon. Nancy told her that the demon had been released by an evil priest who was siphoning the powers of psychic children to open portals to hell to make him more powerful.

Mike Wheeler, Lucas Sinclair, and Dustin Henderson kept the only remaining psychic child, named Eleven aka El, away from the priest while Joyce and Hopper looked for Will. Apparently, El had escaped from said priest when the demon first came through the portal. There had been so much chaos that she’d been able to slip away unnoticed only to be found in the rain by the three boys as they searched for their missing friend.

Nancy and Jonathan found another portal that the demon had opened. Nancy’s best friend Barb had gone missing too and she and Jonathan had gone looking for her. They didn’t find her but they did find the portal and inside of it, the demon. They, along with Steve Harrington, fought said demon while Joyce Byers and Police Chief Jim Hopper ventured through the original portal to retrieve Will. 

They were able to close the portals with Eleven’s abilities and Hopper later adopted her and called her Jane. The priest had met his demise at the hands of the very demon he called through the portal. If that wasn’t poetic justice, Chrissy didn’t know what was.  

When Chrissy asked how Robin fit in, she learned that last year, a new portal had opened up beneath the Starcourt Mall and that Robin had been instrumental in decoding the Russian messages that told them how to locate and close the portal. She also learned that Billy Hargrove didn’t die in the Starcourt fire. The Starcourt fire wasn’t even a fire at all. It was a hell dimension that had opened because a demon possessing Billy Hargrove tried to take over the world. Eleven was able to get through to Billy who fought the demon and died as a result.

She felt bad then because she remembered Billy had a younger sister and she called to mind the angry red head who walked around school ignoring everyone. Nancy said that Max had been struggling since Billy’s death.

It had been a lot to take in. 

Chrissy didn’t know what to do with all the information that had been thrown at her. For over a year, she believed she was the only one in Hawkins who knew about the supernatural beings and occurrences. Now she knew that there were several people, children even, who knew what was going on. 

The next morning, she promptly fired Richards (who strongly objected and claimed she couldn’t fire him as he was appointed by the council in England) and started working with Nancy and her friends. 

She learned more about them that summer as she got to know them. 

Although Will had survived the hell dimension he was in, he had emerged with latent demonic abilities. He could sense when demons were near and he was able to communicate with El (Jane) telepathically. 

Eleven (Jane) could do a lot of things with her psychic abilities. With proper conditions, she could travel into another's mind and see their memories. She could move things with her mind and also, apparently, close portals to hell.

Dustin, Mike, Lucas, and Will liked to play a fantasy game called Dungeons and Dragons and they took to naming the different monsters after villains from their game. The demon that kidnapped Will was the demogorgon or so they said. Chrissy didn’t understand any of it but thought their enthusiasm was cute. 

After Will’s disappearance and subsequent events, Nancy took up witchcraft. She wanted to be able to protect her family and friends in the event that something else happened involving demons and hell dimensions. 

Hopper insisted that all the kids take up self-defense. Every day after school, he instructed them in basic self-defense techniques before moving on to attack tactics. (Max was the best followed by Lucas). With Chrissy’s dance and cheer experience, she easily mastered self-defense. 

It was firmly decided from day one, that the younger kids (El, Will, Lucas, Mike, Dustin, and Max) were strictly research. They didn’t partake in any hunting or patrolling duties and stuck mainly to research and information. They complained a lot about this arrangement but when Hopper claimed that someone needed to always be at their homebase, their arguments got few and far between. 

Steve, Jonathan, Robin, and Nancy took on the more dangerous role of patrolling. As much as Hopper and Joyce didn’t like it, they couldn’t do much to dissuade them. Hopper did what he could to arm them and Joyce focused on first aid and health. It wasn’t perfect but it worked for them. 

Nancy had invited her back to their “lair” as Dusin called it to meet the rest of The Party (another Dustin name). She obliged and happily met the rest of them. To say the younger kids were shocked to see that Chrissy Cunningham was the slayer was an understatement. 

Chrissy spent the rest of the summer patrolling with the older teens and studying with the younger ones. 

Although her old life was over, she was glad to find a group of friends she could trust in her new life. Although, there was one new friend that didn’t seem to know about their dabblings in the supernatural. 

Eddie Munson came along with the younger teens. He was a super senior at nineteen, having failed senior year twice. He had long hair, tattoos, bulky rings and an fuck off attitude that rubbed most of Hawkins the wrong way. Dustin worshiped the ground he walked on.

Eddie was the Dungeon Master of the Hellfire Club at school and all the boys were members. The younger boys had a hard time fitting in at school and Eddie had taken them under his wing. He’d made them feel welcomed and comfortable and stood up for them whenever they had trouble with the more popular kids. Eddie was strictly against conformity and the boys thought he was the coolest thing since sliced bread.

Chrissy only met him a few times over the summer when he would drop the kids off at Nancy or Steve’s house and she was there. They got along well enough and he always talked to her. 

It wasn’t until school started senior year that they really spent more time together. 

While she had friends in Nancy, Jonathan, and Robin, they didn’t face the same pressures at home that she did. Jonathan’s mom was aware of his supernatural escapades and Nancy’s mom was too oblivious to notice. Robin’s parents were strangely absent and Steve’s traveled a lot for work. Chrissy was the only one who felt that her home wasn’t really a welcome place for her.

Her mother still hadn’t gotten over her break up with Jason even though he was the one to break it off. He had even started dating someone else but Chrissy’s mom insisted that if she just pulled herself together he’d come right back to her. Her father kept his mouth shut and his head down most of the time so Chrissy was left to her own devices against her overbearing mother. 

Chrissy was tense all the time and she began to wonder if there was something that could take the edge off. When she asked, her friends told her that weed was the best solution. (Steve had blurted sex but Robin elbowed him so hard in the gut that Chrissy was afraid he’d pass out). Jonathan said that Eddie was the best source of weed in their age bracket.

She cornered him one day in the hall and asked him to meet her at lunch under the bleachers. He did. He didn’t believe her when she first asked him for weed but once he saw she was serious, he told her to meet him after school and they’d go to his house. She was surprisingly trusting of him when he made this suggestion. 

One Friday after school, he took her to his trailer, blasting Metallica the whole way there. He’d been embarrassed by the mess, cracking a joke about the maid being on vacation as he threw dirty dishes into the sink. She laughed and settled down on his couch, feeling more at home in his dinghy trailer than she ever had in her own house. 

That afternoon, Eddie taught her how to roll a joint and smoke it. After just a few pulls, she’d felt the tension in her shoulders ease and the muscles of her neck relax. 

When he asked her what she needed to relax for she kept her answers honest but simple. School was stressing her out and her mom was on her case about Jason. He’d laughed and rolled another blunt, shifting to the floor and thumbing through his records. He put on an oldies record that she recognized and laughed about. She told him that she didn’t peg him for an oldies fan but he just shrugged and said he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. A thought had crossed her mind that she didn’t think she could ever be uncomfortable around him. 

They smoked two joints and then he took her home, promising to meet up again. 

It became part of her routine. Every Friday after school, she’d go over to Eddie’s house and they’d smoke and talk. She learned that his mother died in a car accident when he was eight and then his father died in a police shoot out when he was ten. He’d been living with his uncle ever since. 

She told him how her mother pressured her to date Jason because he was perfect and he’d take care of her. Never mind that Chrissy had no feelings for him or that he had actually been mean to her for the brief year that they dated. She told him how her mom kept her on a strict diet and didn’t care that she was on cheer and needed a high calorie diet. He laughed when she told him that she didn’t follow the diet at school or when she was at friends' houses.

It was about two months after they started their smoking routine when she first kissed him. They’d been talking about music while listening to Iron Maiden in the living room. Eddie was going on some rant about how people judged metal music because it didn’t fit into the stereotype of their perfect world. She’d just started admiring the curve of his lips as he talked and getting lost in his passion for music when the thought entered her head that she wanted to kiss him. 

It had startled her. Mostly because she hadn’t wanted to kiss anyone for a long time. She was so busy with her slayer duties and trying to maintain a good cover with her parents that she didn’t look at boys. Eddie was the first boy who’d even seemed remotely interesting to her. 

She didn’t let her thoughts roam for too long before she leaned over and cut him off mid sentence. He sat frozen for a while before he leaned up and kissed her back. She’d almost pulled away, he hesitated so long, but she was glad she didn’t when his tongue invaded her mouth. He tasted like weed, bbq chips, and Eddie. She’d moaned and tangled her fingers in his hair. 

That seemed to startle him because he pulled away and asked her what she was doing. She giggled and said she thought it was obvious. Eddie laughed too and kissed her again, his hands sliding down her back and pulling her across his lap. 

Their Friday smoke sessions began to include make out sessions. 

She was hesitant to tell her friends about him mostly because he didn’t know about her slayer abilities. She didn’t want them reminding her how difficult it would be to keep him safe or balance a relationship. She liked Eddie. A lot and she wanted to keep him. She figured the longer no one knew about them, the safer he’d be. 

Smoking turned to making out and making out turned to fooling around. 

They hadn’t gone all the way yet, but Chrissy found herself wanting to for the first time ever. She wasn’t a virgin. In the year that they were together, she and Jason had sex a handful of times. Chrissy didn’t enjoy it but Jason always insisted that it brought them closer together. The idea of having sex with Eddie sent shivers down her spine and wetness to her panties. 

She already knew it would be better than it ever had been with Jason. In their fooling around, Eddie had made her come around his fingers on the couch while she straddled his lap. His rings had brought a factor into it she hadn’t considered. The feel of them against her heated skin brought goosebumps to her flesh and made the slick between her legs double. 

Chrissy wanted to tell Eddie who she was, what she did on weekends and with her friends. She wanted him to be a part of her life in more ways than he already was. She loved the time they spent together but she wanted people to know that. She wanted her friends to meet him and get to know the kind person that he hid behind his persona. She wanted Joyce and Hopper to shake his hand and call him “son” in that affectionate reprimanding way that they did. 

She wanted to hold his hand in the hallways and kiss him before class. She wanted to sit with him at lunch and share food. She wanted him to call her princess and sweetheart and sunshine where everyone could hear. She wanted to be able to call him her boyfriend. 

It was thoughts like this that were plaguing her that cool spring afternoon when Eddie got into a fight with Andy Johnson and his eyes turned yellow.           

.

Chrissy banged her fist on the trailer door. Wayne was at work pulling a double shift and Eddie had just hightailed it out of school following his fight with Andy. She’d followed him out of the building and knew he was home. His van was parked sideways in the grass. 

“Eddie!” She yelled. She banged again. “I know you’re in there!” She called. She squinted and peered through the window of the screen door. She didn’t see anything. She banged again. “Eddie! Open the door or I’ll break it down!” It was an empty threat but he didn’t need to know that.

He swung the door open and pulled her inside by the neck of her sweater. She whipped around and faced him, her hackles up. 

His eyes had shifted again to their yellow-gold but his teeth were back to normal. She glared at him and looked him over. 

He looked exactly the same as he did this morning. Except for his eyes. She met them again and was surprised at the anger she saw in them. 

“What are you doing here, Chrissy?” He growled. She could hear it rumbling deep in his chest. She swallowed thickly, nervous for the first time. 

“You ran away. I wanted to make sure you were okay.” She whispered. He snorted. She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. 

“Really? You sure you didn’t come here to slay me?” Her arms went slack and she stared at him wide-eyed. He nodded. “I know what you are. I’ve known for a long time.” He ran his hands through his hair. 

She shook her head. “Why didn’t you say anything?” She asked. He snorted again and shook his head, beginning to pace. 

“Really? Tell the slayer that I’m a werewolf? No thanks. I like my head exactly where it is.” She looked him over again. She could see him being a werewolf. He was wiry and lean. He was strong both mentally and physically. It didn’t really surprise her now that she knew. 

“Eddie,” She took a step forward but stopped when he held out a hand to her. 

“Don’t.” He growled. She drew her eyebrows together. He was still on edge, his hands shaking and his face red. 

“What’s wrong?” She asked. He shook his head and resumed pacing. 

“Full moon’s in a couple days. It’s harder to control myself.” He answered. She nodded and leaned against the edge of the counter. 

“Do you need anything?” She asked. The idea of him being slightly unhinged sent heat to her belly. She unconsciously rubbed her thighs together. Eddie clocked the movement in his periphery and narrowed his eyes. 

“No. I’m going to smoke a little and then probably crash. That usually helps.” He said, his voice low and guarded. Chrissy nodded and bit her bottom lip. 

“Would anything else help?” She asked quietly. Eddie turned fully to face her, his eyes hard and narrowed. She didn’t think she needed to outright ask him to have sex with her. He already told her he had a harder time maintaining his control and a part of her (a big part if she was honest) wanted him to unleash that control on her.

“What are you asking, Cunningham?” He said. She blushed and looked away. He took a step toward her and leaned into her space. She faced him and glanced from his eyes to his mouth and back again. His nostrils flared and he smelled the arousal coursing through her. He shook his head. 

“I won’t be gentle.” He whispered. She uncrossed her arms and cupped his face in her hands, her thumbs stroking over the skin beneath his yellow eyes.

“I won’t break,” She said. The words had barely left her mouth before he was pressed bodily against her, his mouth locking with hers. Their teeth knocked together and she moaned, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

Eddie slid his hands down her back and over her ass, giving it a quick squeeze, before cupping the backs of her thighs and lifting her onto the kitchen counter. She gasped against his lips and tugged his hair, biting his bottom lip. He groaned and put a hand against her chest, pushing her to lay back.    

She was pressed hard to the surface of the counter. She didn’t have time to even take a breath before Eddie was shoving his shoulders between her thighs. He pressed his tongue flat against the cotton of her panties and licked a long, slow stripe up her center. She gasped and dropped her head back against the counter. 

His growl was inhuman as he straightened, his hands trailing down the outside of her thighs like claws. He brought his hands up to the collar of her sweater and gripped it tight. She froze and said his name. He glanced up, his eyes a startling shade of gold, narrowed his eyes and ripped the fabric straight down the middle. She inhaled sharply as he roughly maneuvered it off her shoulders. In the process, she sat up and wrapped her arms around his neck as they were freed. She slanted her mouth across his and probed his mouth with her tongue. 

She squeaked when the clasp of her bra loosened and Eddie’s fingers slid it down her arms. His hands trailed back up her flesh and descended on her breasts, kneaded the flesh in his rough hands. Chrissy moaned as Eddie pinched her nipples between his fingers, tugging on the pebbled flesh. She arched against him, her pussy flush with his cock. He was diamond hard between her legs and she tightened them around his hips. 

He hissed as she rubbed against him and wrapped a hand around her hair, giving her head a sharp tug back. She separated from him with a gasp and an audible smack, spit connecting their lips.

He glared at her, his eyes searching. She squeaked when he shoved her back down on the counter. He trailed his hands across her breasts and stomach, his thumb dipping briefly into her bellybutton. His fingers curled into the waistband of her skirt and he tugged with force. It slipped low on her hips but didn’t come off. The growl in his chest startled her and she sat up, covering his hands with her own. 

“Zipper,” She whispered. She moved her hands behind her and, with shaky fingers, unzipped the skirt. Eddie nudged her back down with a nose at her throat and she went, raising her hips as she did so he could pull her skirt and panties down her legs in one go, her ballet flats disappearing with them. 

Her face was warm and she knew her blush trailed down across her chest. Eddie was staring, transfixed, between her legs. If he wasn’t standing between them, she would’ve closed her knees. He looked up at her and slowly slid his hands up her legs. 

He started at her ankle, trailing his hand feather light up the skin of her calf, palming the muscle. He turned his palms inward as he moved, sweeping his thumbs over the crease of her thigh where it met her hip. Chrissy inhaled sharply. 

Eddie brought his hands to her knees and jerked them open. With her heart thundering in her chest, she watched as Eddie lowered his head to her glistened cunt and liked her from bottom to top. She gasped and arched back, her eyes sliding closed. 

No one had ever touched her like that before. The few times she was with Jason, she’d be lucky if he used his fingers before he rutted into her. With Eddie, just his eyes on her brought heat to her core. 

His tongue probed her entrance briefly before settling on her swollen clit. His lips settled around the pulsing nub and he sucked. Chrissy cried out as lightning shot down her spine and settled low in her belly. She arched up, her legs trembling. Eddie held her still, his hands locked around her thighs, keeping her open for him. She curled her toes against his back, the fabric of his jacket rough against the skin there. A new wave of heat sent her trembling at the knowledge that he was still fully clothed and she was naked.  

The sounds Eddie was making were obscene as he ate her. She prayed that they were alone as his slurping made her shiver. She tangled her fingers in his hair as her legs began to shake. He had brought her quickly to the edge of her orgasm. She could feel her pussy fluttering as he sucked without abandon on her clit, his tongue occasionally lashing the stiff muscle. 

She lifted her head, looked down at where they were connected to find his glowing eyes already on her. As soon as she met his gaze, he sucked harder and scraped his teeth over her clit. Chrissy shrieked as her legs locked up  around his head and her pussy clenched down around nothing. She leveled back out on the counter as Eddie continued to lick between her thighs, her body jolting like she’d been electrocuted at each pass of her clit. 

With a tender kiss placed against her pubic bone, Eddie stood up straight. Chrissy’s legs collapsed without his hold and she lay splayed on the counter before him. She could hear a deep rumble emitting from his chest and almost laughed. Even werewolves basked in male pride.

She heard clothes rustling and raised herself to her elbows. Eddie tossed his jacket onto the armchair behind him before reaching behind him and pulling his t-shirt over his head. Chrissy’s breath trembled when she got a full view of his chest for the first time. 

He wasn’t chiseled in muscle like Jason was but he was lean. The muscles of his chest and stomach may not have been obvious but they were there. She could see them outlined beneath his skin. He had a smattering of chest hair between his pecs and a dark line of hair below his belly button that disappeared beneath his jeans. She could see a scar on his side from when he must’ve been bitten and turned. Additional scars were scattered across his chest and sides from whatever tussles he’d gotten into as a wolf. Two tattoos sat on the left side of his chest, one above the other. His guitar pick necklace glinted in the light of the kitchen. 

The sight of him made her mouth water and her pussy clench.

His nostrils flared like he could smell her arousal. He probably could. 

He stepped between her legs and wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing her to his chest and hoisting her off the counter. He took a few steps deeper into the trailer before he sank to his knees in the living room. She arched against him, pressing her breasts against his chest. He growled and trailed his lips across her jaw and down her neck. He licked a line from her collar bone to her ear, tugging the lobe between his teeth.

Chrissy groaned and reached a hand between them, palming his erection. He grunted against her neck and rocked into her palm. She squeezed and he hissed. He brought a hand up to her throat and settled it there. He didn’t squeeze. He just kept the weight of his hand on her neck. 

She turned her head and nudged his up, looking at him. He was breathing deeply, his eyes still their unnatural gold. “I can’t be gentle,” He huffed again, his breath fanning across her face. His voice was wrecked. Deep and hoarse like he’d just finished a Corroded Coffin concert and smoked a cigarette after. She nudged his nose with hers and wrapped her arms around his neck. 

Eddie rose up on his knees and pushed at her hip, urging her onto her stomach. She went willingly and rose up on her hands and knees. Eddie groaned behind her and she heard the clinking of his belt and the rustle of fabric before he settled his hands on her hips. She felt the tip of his cock nudge her weeping entrance and she shuddered. 

He smoothed a hand up her back and cupped the nape of her neck, urging her down. She relaxed her elbows and widened her knees. Her ass was left high up in the air while her face and chest were pressed to the floor. Eddie groaned again and stroked the head of his cock up and down her pussy, wetting the end. 

With little warning, Eddie shoved his hips forward and sank deep inside her. She cried out and dug her fingers into the carpet until her knuckles turned white. Eddie wasted no time as he thrust in and out of her, pounding his hips against the flesh of her ass.

She reached down and circled her clit with shaking fingers. Eddie moaned and tightened his grip on her hips, sure to leave bruises. Chrissy cried out when he suddenly jerked her up against his chest with a hand in her hair. He reached his other hand around to her front, slipping his fingers between her legs. She shuddered as he circled her clit with guitar calloused fingers. She brought a hand up to the back of his head, tangling her fingers in his hair. He groaned against her neck and the pressure of his fingers between her legs increased. 

She shivered and her pussy fluttered around Eddie’s thrusting cock. She arched back against him and cried out, tears coming to her eyes as she trembled through her second orgasm. Eddie groaned and released her, settling her back on her belly. He thrust erratically a few more times before pulling out with a moan and spilling across the small of her back.

She laid there shivering with aftershocks as Eddie stroked the skin of her hips. She hummed when his fingers dipped into his come and stroked the fluid across her back, rubbing it in. She shuddered at the wave of arousal that followed his actions. He leaned down next and licked a path from the middle of her back to the nape of her neck before closing his mouth around the muscle there and applying pressure with his teeth. She gasped and arched back, pressing her ass against his semi-hard cock. 

He pulled back and sat back on his heels, helping her roll to her back and sit up. He helped her stand and he tugged his jeans back over his hips, tucking his dick back in place and zipping the fly but leaving them unbuttoned and the belt hanging loose. She settled her arms around his waist and hugged him, burying her head in his chest. He smoothed his hands gently down her back before leading her down the hall to his bedroom.

[theladycarpathia]

I've had a flurry of new followers here recently so I figured I'd probably better let you guys know what you're in for.

I'm Luna (30s, she/her, UK) and this is mainly my Harringrove brain-rot page but lately BuckTommy have taken residence and won't get out.

I also have a Hellcheer blog (@baddreamsandoldbones) and I run the Hellcheer Anniversary Week.

Find my AO3 page here I apologize to anyone who has subscribed/followed me for a specific ship or show, as I tend to hop about a lot. I also write for things like Naruto, Merlin, CSI, and I have way more that I haven't even started yet. Other hobbies include baking, bellringing, buying copious Halloween items and being at the beck and call of my cat, Tuppence. I tend to lurk but I really do want to chat! I'm on Discord under the same name as my AO3

Read more below for my fic list ❤

Harringrove Event Works

Harringrove Big Bang They're burning all of the witches (even if you aren't one) Artwork from cronesfeetpics here

Billy’s Birthday Bonanza Unrequited love One night stand in the apocalypse Microwave dinner Steve’s closet during spring break party A mix tape Detective au/last chances Steve Harrington’s childhood tree-house

July mini Harringrove week Heatwave Last Day at Summer Camp Sixteen Candles at the drive in

Harringrove Harvest Mrs Click’s Classroom during Hawkins High prom The Annual Henderson’s Haunted House Ghostface Ghosthunters Demons and/or Angels x Aged Up The Abandoned Ruins of Starcourt Mall Campfire Stories  WitchesxOnlineDating Ritual Sex  Invite Only  Buffy AU Couples Costumes

Other A/O/B in the apocalypse Hawkins Country Club during a benefit Bobbing for apples

Find my Hellcheer works listed here

911 fics

For All Occasions Honesty is the best policy (unless it's your brother's secret) To Do: Me (Buck's Tasklist) Happiness, love, cohabitation (Clipboards and couches notwithstanding)

[ivyodessa]

BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER AU!!!! Please someone write it 🥺

hellcheer au idea: chrissy being a superhero and eddie is her damsel in distress. yes? no?? yes???

cause i just know eddie would absolutely swoon over how strong chrissy is, especially when she carries him around after she saves him. 

he’s just constantly like this around her:

[baddreamsandoldbones]

Hellcheer Week Day 11: Werewolf

@hellcheerweek

“I think there’s another werewolf,” Argyle says out of the blue. 

Nancy, halfway through her lunch and mid-chew, pauses briefly to look at Argyle. And she’s not the only one - Jonathan, Robin, Eddie and Chrissy all stop to look up. 

It wasn’t just the words that caught their attention, it was how Argyle had blown into the library, leaving the doors swinging furiously in his wake. Despite having an unpredictable and intense nature for three days of the month, Argyle never hurried or shouted or did anything at any great speed at all. 

“What do you mean,” Murray asks. He stood behind the desk, sorting returns, and Argyle had walked right past him. “That there’s another werewolf?”

“Yeah, weren’t you locked up as usual last night?” Eddie points out, handing Chrissy some of his grapes. “Who was on duty?” 

“Nancy,” Robin says, because they all take turns on Argyle watch. They rigged one of the rooms in the basement, using old batting cage frames and a long weekend drilling and welding so the end result gives Argyle a safe place to work out whatever toothy aggression the moon brings him. The Slayers work alone, while everyone else takes shifts in pairs. “Did you notice anything?”

“No,” Nancy says firmly, swiping mayonnaise before it can drop from her sandwich. “He was locked in all night.”

“Last night wasn’t the problem, dudes,” Argyle insists. “I know it wasn’t me. But I stopped by the deli during second period. Mrs Walsh was talking to Alice about her dairy farm. Three cows were killed last night. Sliced up like salami.”

“And you think it was another werewolf?” Eddie says with a frown. This is definitely a problem. An unchecked, unrestrained werewolf has a hunger that will run rampant for three nights every month. Argyle had needed no persuading to be locked up every month, insistent that he not have the chance to hurt anyone. But if there’s another one…

“I think it might be?” Argyle says, looking thoroughly miserable. “I don’t know what else slices up livestock.”

“Nothing good,” Nancy says decisively, balling up her napkin. “Shit. Patrol tonight. All hands on deck. Someone tell Steve and Billy.”

“Later,” Robin mumbles from around her fruit rollup. “They’re probably making out behind the gym.”

“Who exactly is going to watch Argyle?” Jonathan points out, because there are still two nights of the full moon remaining. Nancy’s mouth twists as she considers the answer. She can’t really sacrifice the heavy hitters to stay behind, when there might be a rogue werewolf wandering the streets.

Argyle takes the seat that Jon pushes out for him, looking so forlorn that Chrissy wants to hug him. Nancy’s eyes flick over to him as she thinks. 

“Chrissy and Eddie,” she says finally. Eddie shrugs. He can take down a vamp if need be and Chrissy’s visions are incredibly useful at times but they’re not the most valuable members of the team. They’re better off staying behind to watch the trapped Argyle.

“Walkies?” he says easily. “In case anything goes wrong and you need backup.” Nancy nods. The remainder of her sandwich is lying forgotten on the table. 

“Let’s hope we don’t,” she says. “Everyone meet back here before moon-rise. Argyle will get himself shut in and the rest of us…well, let’s hope we don’t actually find anything.”

“What about the next night?” Jonathan asks. He’s right…there’s still two more nights of a full moon to go, including tonight. 

“Then we do it all again,” Nancy says grimly. 

<hr>

Argyle watches aren't the most thrilling thing in the world. 

“I feel bad for him,” Eddie says, fingers lingering on the tranquilizer gun they have for nights like this. Argyle, an hour into his wolfy persona, paces anxiously up and down the cage. 

“So do I,” Chrissy says, pouring herself some tea from the thermos. They have to come prepared, with food, drinks, and some entertainment, otherwise it’s a long night. They usually take shifts to sleep, and only Robin and Nancy can manage it by themselves. “Do you think he gets bored in there?”

“Maybe,” Eddie muses, and accepts the mug she passes him. He never fully removes one hand from the gun though. Argyle is well restrained and their friend but there’s no guarantee he’d recognise them if he happened to get loose. “Maybe he wants to see the moon.”

“Do you think?” Chrissy asks and settles herself on the couch next to him. They commandeered it from the staff room late one night, even though there was significant uproar about where it had gone. They use it to nap, or to sit comfortably and watch Argyle pace the length of his cage. 

“I would,” Eddie says simply. “If you were like that…with nothing else to think about except to feed and to run, wouldn’t you want to be under the open sky?”

Chrissy pulls her legs up until her thigh rests comfortably against Eddie’s. She’s not afraid to admit she’s much happier being here than out there. It’s not the nicest of nights, with a cold wind blowing in and heavy clouds blocking the moon. The school can get creepy at night and their friend currently has teeth bigger than a great white shark’s, but there’s light and sandwiches from the deli and tomorrow morning Argyle will be Argyle again. 

“That does sound better,” she says. But they can never let that happen - unchecked, a werewolf has no instincts, personality, or morals of the person inside of it. Argyle has never tried to attack any of them outright but they can’t say for certain that the rest of Hawkins would be so safe. 

“Maybe it’s not a werewolf,” Eddie says, as though he’s read her mind. “Maybe there’s something else out there. Chupacabra. They eat goats, don’t they?”

“It’s cows being attacked,” Chrissy says fondly. God, she loves him so much, even like this, in a dingy basement, sharing a thermos of tea. “Not goats.”

“Variety,” Eddie says easily and elbows her in the ribs. “Not even you could eat cheeseburgers for every meal.”

“Goat burgers,” Chrissy whispers. She has homework to do, a copy of Hamlet sitting in her book bag but this is better. 

In his cage Argyle begins to growl. Chrissy sits up to look at him, wondering what’s upset him when there’s a strange crash from over their heads. 

“What was that?” Chrissy asks, reaching out for Eddie’s free hand. He’s staring up at the ceiling, mouth set in a tense line. 

“Don’t know,” he says shortly. “No one else should be here. And I doubt that it was a raccoon breaking in.”

“Could be one of the others,” Chrissy suggests and they both turn to look at the silent walkie-talkie. They don’t need to say the obvious - that if one of the others was on their way back to the school, someone would have let them know.

“Argyle wouldn't growl like that if it was one of us,” Eddie adds, fingers curling around the gun. While they can’t exactly sit in a room with an uncaged Argyle in his wolf form, he’s often calmer around someone from their group, easily recognizing their sounds and smells. Chrissy likes to think that it’s proof a little bit of their friend is still in there. “Stay here.”

“You can’t go up there by yourself,” Chrissy whispers furiously. Eddie just shakes his head. 

“I’m not having you go upstairs if it is dangerous,” he counters and passes her the gun. “Take this. I’ll take the other one. Shoot anything that comes through the door.”

Chrissy wants to protest again but she knows it’s a losing battle. He’s intent on going up and going alone. 

He takes the backup gun and tucks a flare and a knife into his belt. They keep a weapons chest down here for emergencies, the overflow of whatever they can’t hide in the library. 

Chrissy grips the gun, feeling terrified even in the bright light. It almost makes her feel more exposed, a bright beacon for whoever has just arrived. 

Argyle just growls furiously in his cage, truly rattled by whoever has just arrived. She watches him for a moment, indecision swirling around her gut. 

If even Argyle is spooked, then whatever has just entered the building must be dangerous. Eddie’s right and she shouldn’t go up there. 

But it’s dangerous and Eddie is up there. 

She swings the gun over her shoulder, grabbing the other flare from the kit. “Stay here,” she throws over her shoulder, as though Argyle has a say in the matter. He just snarls and snaps at the wire of his cage. 

She makes her way slowly up to the main floor, creeping along in darkness. They usually hide themselves down below while it’s still daylight and Murray can get them in through the side door. They’re locked in until morning, when they need to change clothes, unlock Argyle and make their way upstairs in time for class. Everything is pitch black and Chrissy isn’t sure whether having a torch would be a blessing or a curse right now. 

The main hall is empty when she finally emerges, having taken each step painfully slowly, gripping onto the banister for dear life. She pauses, gently sliding the door shut, straining to hear either Eddie or the intruder.

But she hears nothing, so she’s going to have to go in deeper. 

She creeps along the hallway and her heart pounds at every shadow. The darkness distorts the faces of the cheerleaders on an audition poster when she passes by, her own face almost unrecognizable. The red emergency lights do not help, she thinks with a shudder. 

But she makes her way down the hall unimpeded, until she meets the cross section. She pauses, hoping for a sign of which way to go. Left takes her to the gym, right is to the cafeteria and straight ahead will take her to more classrooms. 

But the school stays silent, so she keeps on her path. 

Halfway down the hallway, accompanied only by the tomb-like appearance of the lockers flanking her on either side, she briefly debates calling for Eddie. But she’s afraid of giving her position away, well aware that girls drawing attention to themselves are the first people to get killed by the ax murderer. 

The first thing she sees out of the ordinary is scattered debris lying across her path. She steps carefully over it, squinting down at each item. A textbook, a notepad, a comb…it looks like ordinary items from someone’s bag…or locker. 

There’s a large jagged mark across the metal, one of the doors ripped off its hinges and left to sway in the night. The contents have clearly been scattered across the floor but for what purpose, Chrissy doesn’t know. She runs a finger along the rip, trying to imagine the size of whatever might have done this. Unfortunately it’s all too easy to imagine a large werewolf claw, easily slotting into the scar. 

But there’s something else too, something brightly colored and soft, caught in the hinge of the lock. She pulls it out and rubs it between her fingers, feeling fabric. 

A noise pulls her away from her thoughts, the sound of pounding feet. It’s no surprise when she sees Eddie racing down the hallway towards her, face too panicked to be angry that she left the basement. 

“Run!” Eddie shouts and snatches up her hand as he races by. Chrissy lets herself be pulled along, not even questioning what he’s running from. Those are the rules of staying alive - if you see someone running, don’t ask questions, just go. 

They only make it a few feet down the hallway when she hears it - the deep, heavy breathing, the scrabble of claws on the tiles. She grits her teeth and runs, the gun bouncing against her back as she goes. Eddie appears to have lost his somewhere, a large bruise forming on his cheek, and she dreads to think about what might have happened. 

They run, without even needing to talk, back towards the basement door. It’s going to be a close race and it’s only the creature’s claws struggling for purchase against the floor that gives them an edge. Chrissy’s seen werewolves run before, and knows that no human could keep up. They need the security of the heavy basement door, and to stay there until sunrise. 

The open door comes into sight, and Eddie pushes himself even harder, long legs eating up the distance easily. He grabs hold of the handle and shoves Chrissy down the steps ahead of him.

She only sees it for a second - the large, shaggy outline of a werewolf, yellow eyes glowing brightly, mouth open in a hungry snarl. Sometimes during the full moon, she thinks she can see some of Argyle in his wolfy eyes, just a little glimmer of humanity, but there’s none of that here. Just moon and teeth and blood. 

Eddie swings the door closed, shutting them off from the werewolf. They hastily throw all of the bolts (no one has ever questioned why their basement door has so many locks, on both sides) and both flinch as something very large and heavy flings its body against the door. 

They wait in the dark, reaching out silently for the other’s clammy hands. Something sniffs curiously outside and scratches furiously at the door. But it’s a heavy steel fire door and it’s not moving in a hurry. 

After what feels like an eternity, the shadow visible underneath the crack disappears, until they can hear the click of claws heading away from them. Chrissy slumps down onto the top step, feeling exhausted from the unexpected run for her life. 

“Are there any windows into the basement?” Eddie asks, his voice soft. Chrissy shakes her head. It was something that they’d made sure of, when they’d decided to use the basement for Argyle’s wolf time. 

“No,” she says. “I think we’re safe.” But whether either of them will sleep is another matter. She reaches out and touches the shredded sleeve of his t-shirt. He catches hold of her fingers when he sees her concern. 

“From when I fell over,” he says ruefully. He lifts his sleeve to show her the bruise, but there’s no bite, no scratches. “I found it in the cafeteria, possibly looking for food. I tried to get away but I tripped. I shot at it but I think I missed.” 

That explains the lack of a gun. Who knows how they’ll retrieve that tomorrow before people start flooding into the school.

“How did you get away?” Chrissy asks, heart in her throat at the idea of that thing mauling Eddie to pieces, while she sat in the basement, unaware. He strokes her hair and presses a kiss to her forehead. 

“It cut me off from going back the way I came,” he said. “So I went through the kitchen and out that way towards the staff-room. I had to light my flare…I think I slowed it down a bit. Maybe we should look for someone with a burn tomorrow.” He’s making a joke, trying to lighten the mood but Chrissy’s blood runs cold as she remembers what she picked up. She digs in her pocket, searching for the tiny fragment she’d had in her hand before Eddie had arrived. 

It’s a scrap of fabric, something painfully familiar. Chrissy stares at the Hawkins Tigers green and feels sick. 

“I think someone on the basketball team is a werewolf,” she whispers, as deep in the depths of the basement, Argyle begins to howl.

[baddreamsandoldbones]

Hellcheer Week Day 2 - Ghost Hunting

Buffy AU part 2 - Eddie actually makes his appearance in this one! @hellcheerweek

They go back to school after dark. 

“This is a bad idea,” Jonathan says nervously, hitching the bag higher up his shoulder. Robin just scowls from under her beanie. 

“We can keep letting the ghost run rampant if you want,” Robin says and she doesn’t look like someone with a heavy destiny and supernatural powers. For starters, her socks have pink flamingos on them. 

But nearly a month after she’s joined the group, Chrissy is beginning to understand that the Slayerettes are less of a well oiled crack team and more of a strange group of misfits. But since she’s been a part of the team, they’ve stopped two demons, one gremlin and more vampires than she can count. She hadn’t known that Hawkins was such a hotbed of supernatural activity…and to be honest, she kind of misses the ignorance. 

Her friends have started to question it all - her frequent leaving parties early, or not showing up at all, or how often she slips away to go to the library. But she can’t tell them anything, because they’d never believe her.  Sometimes, she can’t even believe it herself.

“No, thank you,” Steve says with a shudder. “The dead bugs in the meatloaf were bad enough once. There’s a long way to go to Graduation.”

“Agreed,” Chrissy says, trying not to think about the crunch it had made when unsuspecting students bit down. Robin just looks up at the dark shape of the school and sighs. 

“Let’s go then,” she says ruefully and they all traipse after her through the doors. 

The school is no less terrifying inside - pictures and artwork on the walls looking eerie in the dim glow of the safety lights, the lockers lined along the corridor like tombstones. Chrissy stops at the display by the front door, containing the trophies for the Tigers. She catches a glimpse of herself in a photograph, grinning in her cheerleading uniform. 

That Chrissy had a much simpler life. 

“Okay,” Robin says, keeping her voice low. The school is meant to be empty but there’s no guarantees. There’s always the chance of a janitor or the vice principal working late. “As we discussed. Downstairs to the basement. We find this dress that the bitch is possessing, we burn it and say the spell. School is cleansed and we go home.”

“You hope,” Murray says darkly, as they set off down the corridor. Chrissy doesn’t miss how the five of them cluster together, shining torches over every little thing. The basement feels a long way off. 

“I can’t believe we’re here to purge a ghost who got angry about the school's production of Grease,” Jonathan mutters as they reach the door to the basement. Robin pushes it open and they all slink down the stairs. The Hawkins High basement is creepy at the best of times, a strange labyrinth of storage rooms, closets, and spare classrooms. They hold detention down here, run some clubs out of the unused classrooms and the drama club notoriously stores every prop or costume ever used in a school play down here. 

“Not necessarily true,” Murray corrects, juggling his bags so that the jars clink against one another. “It’s hard to say what makes a spirit ‘wake up.’ The deceased in question died down here - she helped found the school’s drama club, which is how we know that the item she’s tied to is very likely to be something she used or touched back then. But dozens of plays have been performed here since the eighties…anything else could be the cause.”

“I don’t really think I want to find out,” Steve says as they arrive at the bottom of the stairs to another door. “What’s the plan here? The drama club has so much shit it might take us until morning to search through it all.”

“We want to start with the older rooms,” Jonathan pipes up. “The ones by the boiler. It’s all part of the original school when it was built in the sixties. It was only expanded after our spook died, so anything she would have used would be in there.”

“Not bad,” Murray says approvingly and Jonathan ducks his head at the attention. 

“My mom went here,” he explains sheepishly. “I asked her about it.”

“We’ll do as Jonathan said,” Robin says, resting her hand on the door. She looks the most at ease of all of them but so would Chrissy if she had super strength and reflexes. “I’ll go with Murray and you three go together. Don’t separate and if you find anything, scream.”

“I’ll be doing that anyway,” Steve promises and Robin yanks open the door. 

Chrissy hates the basement, even during the day. Something about the long, dark corridors and stone walls makes her think of a prison. She’s glad she’s a cheerleader and not in the chess club or the D&D club, who all take meetings down here. To make matters worse, the overhead lights always flicker and no matter where you are, the faint rumble of the boiler can always be heard. Combine that with assorted exposed pipes, cracks, and stains, it’s a truly unpleasant place to be. 

The group drifts past the assorted classrooms, the extra cleaning cupboards and past the abundance of storage rooms. The faculty keeps everything down here - from spare chairs, to extra gym equipment and school supplies. The drama club never throws out anything that can be reused and pressed into service for another performance. 

The air grows stale and musty as they travel, moving towards the rarely used spaces near the boiler room and Chrissy clutches her torch until her palm grows sweaty. 

“Okay,” Robin whispers and gestures down one hallway. “You guys go that way. We’ll take these rooms. Find it quick, before our unwanted guest catches on that we’re here.”

Robin and Murray waste no time disappearing in the opposite direction but Jonathan, Steve and Chrissy all look at each other warily. 

“This is a bad idea,” Jonathan says miserably and they turn towards the first room. 

The abandoned prop room is something out of a horror movie - old sets, with the paint peeling away, costumes packed into boxes, masks hung from hooks. Chrissy reaches for the first box she sees and begins to dig through it. 

“We don’t have a real idea of what we’re looking for,” Steve says, sounding disgruntled. He scowls down at the box he’s just opened. “This is full of hats.”

“The item might be a hat,” Jonathan protests, crouched on the floor. “Remember that ghost at the museum?”

“Oh,” Steve says, furrowing his eyebrows at the memory of an encounter before Chrissy’s time. “That one was bad.”

Chrissy doesn’t prod for more detail, just works on digging to the bottom of the box as fast as she can and when that’s done, the next. Something terrible is prickling at the base of her spine, snaking long cold talons down her back. She hates this feeling - a strange side effect of being a seer. She doesn’t always need a vision to know that something bad is about to happen. 

“Chrissy?” Jonathan says, looking at her with concern. “Are you okay?”

But before she can answer there’s a sound in the hallway, just behind the closed door. Chrissy’s mouth suddenly feels strangely dry. Steve pushes himself to his feet and retrieves a prop hammer from the wall. Chances are in an actual fight it won’t do him much good, but Chrissy’s also seen him set a vampire on fire with a flick of his wrist. 

“Stay here,” he says in a low voice and Chrissy watches him duck out into the hallway with ice running through her veins. 

“What are the chances that sound was Murray and Robin?” she asks hopefully but Jonathan just shakes his head. 

“Not likely,” he says and looks back towards the door that Steve left ajar. “Shit. I’m going to go after him. Stay put. Do not leave this room.”

Chrissy nods, even though every pore in her body is screaming at him to not leave her alone. She’s seen this horror movie before.

She resumes her frenzied search, hoping that her abilities might guide her towards the right item. They are literally looking for an item in a haystack. They have several photos of the victim but there’s never a guarantee that what she’s wearing in those photos are the item that they need.

“Hey,” someone says and puts a hand on her shoulder. She’s not proud of the way she shrieks and spins around, so anxious with the tension and the quiet that she doesn’t realize it’s not a ghost until too late. 

“Sorry,” the guy says, holding up his hands. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you okay?” 

Chrissy looks up at the dark shape in front of her, lit only by her torch which is spiraling around on the floor from where she’d dropped it. It takes her a beat to recognize the outline - the long hair, the chunky belt, the distinct t-shirt. 

“Yeah,” she says, even though she’s distinctly not. Whether that has to do with her current activities or Eddie Munson being down here, she doesn’t know. “I’m sorry. It’s creepy down here.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says and takes a few steps over to retrieve the torch, which is flickering angrily at the mistreatment of it. The beam passes over his face and if her heart skips a little, then no one has to know. 

“Why are you down here?” Chrissy asks, finally pulling herself together. The whole point of them coming back to school this late was to make sure that no one would see them and ask awkward questions. Slayerette duty almost always involves awkward questions. 

“The Hellfire Club meets down here,” Eddie says, smacking her torch against his palm. It stops flickering and he holds it up triumphantly. “I was working on a campaign after our meeting and I got carried away.”

“Thanks,” Chrissy says, taking the torch back. She doesn’t know where Jonathan and Steve have gone, and that worries her. Surely they wouldn’t have gone far, especially if the noise they heard was Eddie. “Was that you out in the corridor? The crash?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says sheepishly and there’s a leather bracelet hanging from his wrist, just visible under the hem of his sleeve. She tears her gaze away from it back to his face. “Sorry. Whacked into a bucket when I came down here to investigate the light. Speaking of, you know there’s actual lights in here, right?”

Chrissy follows the line of his finger to the bare lightbulb above their heads. But she can’t tell him the truth - that they didn’t turn on any lights so they could keep themselves hidden. 

“I wasn’t sure there would be one down here,” she says, resting her fingers on the crumpled edges of the box. She was only half done searching it.

“I see,” he says in bemusement. “And what exactly are you up to at this time of night? Not what I would have expected from the Queen of Hawkins High.” Chrissy flushes at his suggestive tone. 

“I….” she says and hesitates. What exactly is a good reason for snooping around in an old storage room in the basement, after school hours?

But her hand, still resting on the box, brushes against something soft and without any warning, piercing pain shoots through her skull. 

“Hey,” Eddie says, lurching forward to support her arm. Chrissy clings onto it with all her might, keeping a hand pressed against her temple, trying to breathe through the pain. “Are you okay?”

She’s not okay. The vision tearing through her head is agonizing, like a million knives driven into her scalp all at once. She will never get used to this, an unwanted force inside her mind.

Sometimes she wishes she hadn’t been chosen. She would have been content seeing regular visions like her mother, like her aunt, and her grandmother before them. She didn’t ask for this, to be special. 

“Chrissy!” someone shouts, before another hand is pressed against her back, supporting her. “What is it?”

“Is she okay? What’s wrong with her?” Eddie asks anxiously. Steve bends his head low to Chrissy’s ear, out of Eddie’s hearing. 

“Is it a vision?” he asks urgently and she moves her head a fraction. She hears him exhale and curse, but doesn’t open her eyes. She can’t. She knows from past experience that even the light from a torch beam is too bright, and will only make her headache worse. 

“Do we need to take her to a hospital?” Eddie asks and he hasn’t let go of Chrissy’s arm. At any other moment, she might be able to appreciate that. “Harrington, what the fuck is going on?”

“It’s none of your business, Munson!” Steve bites back, but there’s only fear and worry in his voice. He knows what Chrissy’s visions mean and how they debilitate her. “How the fuck are you even down here?”

“What are you doing down here?” Eddie repeats and Chrissy just curls her hand even tighter around the item of clothing. 

“Steve!” she spits out and both boys immediately stop their bickering at the sound of her voice. “It’s this one!” Steve must see the item clutched in her hand because someone then gently pries it from her fingers. She lets it go, relieved. She was useful.

“Fuck. Okay, Munson, I need you to do something for me, no questions asked. Take Chrissy and get out of the school. Take her home.”

The pain finally begins to ebb away, releasing its vice-tight grip around her head. She leans gratefully into Eddie’s comforting grip and he almost instinctively wraps an arm around her. 

“Seriously, Harrington,” Eddie says, furiously. “Something fucked up is going on here...”

“You have no idea,” Steve says grimly and tightens his hand around Lucy Tarwell’s last connection to the mortal plane. They have to burn it and cast the ritual to force her out. Without Chrissy, they’ll have to manage but Steve was born a witch and Murray was trained as part of his journey to become a watcher. “Please, I’ll explain after. You have to get Chrissy out, it’s not safe…”

Steve is cut off by being thrown against the far wall and his pained cry echoes throughout the small room. Terrified, Chrissy clings onto Eddie. The ghost is here. 

“What the fuck…?” Eddie whispers, no doubt stunned by Steve being thrown like a ragdoll. To Chrissy’s relief, Steve groans fitfully and stirs from the wreckage of cardboard boxes and set pieces. He’s alive. 

But he might not be for much longer if they don’t do something. 

Chrissy has snatched the torch, headache be damned, to look for the soft faded pink of the cardigan amongst the debris. If they burn it, it can buy them some time. 

“We have to find that cardigan!” Chrissy insists, shining the torch across the room. Eddie just looks at her like she’s gone mad as she digs among the scattered boxes. 

“A cardigan?” he says, as the lights begin to flicker. 

“Chrissy!” Robin shouts, appearing in the doorway. It only takes her a second to take in the lights and her best friend lying in a heap. “Shit!”

“Get Steve!” Chrissy hollers back at no one in particular. The lights are messing with her, making it hard to find the damn cardigan when she’s thrown from bright light back into total darkness. 

“What the hell is Munson doing here?” Jonathan asks, stepping over the piles of scattered clothes to get to Steve. 

“Murray’s set up the circle in the other room!” Robin says urgently, dropping to her knees by Chrissy. 

“Pink cardigan, mother of pearl buttons,” Chrissy babbles, throwing clothes aside. “I saw it, I had a vision of her, standing right here…”

Jonathan has managed to get Steve upright, slinging their friend over one shoulder. “Find it quick!” he says, looking around anxiously. “Who knows how long we have before she decides to stop making the walls bleed fake blood.”

“What the fuck?” Eddie mutters again and when Chrissy looks up, he’s standing stock still, staring at them all like they’re mad. 

“Munson, get out or help!” Robin snaps and Chrissy meets Eddie’s eyes before her hands sink into something hard and moving. 

She screams, yanking her hand away from the writhing, squirming cockroaches and even Robin blanches, lurching back away from the insects. Chrissy bats at her clothes, trying to get them off her, and someone else helps her brush a large one from her shoulder. 

“You’re okay,” Eddie says soothingly as she whimpers. “They’re gone.” When she looks down again, all that’s there is an old black cape. 

“Shit,” Robin says again, with a small shudder. Eddie looks down at the mess, still almost impossible to see under the dancing lights and joins them on the floor. 

“I expect an explanation after this, Buckley!” he says, and throws a set of clogs over his shoulder. 

“If we live, you can have one!” Robin shouts back. There’s no sign of Jonathan and Steve - they must have left the room while Chrissy was wrist deep in bugs. 

They search furiously, tearing through broken boxes and scattered clothes in silence. All the ghost has done so far is scare - minor possessions, blood seeping through the paint, a memorable math class where a snake had slid out of the cupboard - but Chrissy doesn’t know what she might do if she really feels threatened. 

They find out when Robin tugs the cardigan free with a triumphant shout. Chrissy looks over in time to see Robin’s face morph into one of terror when a face emerges from the neck hole: a small blonde head appearing first, followed by long curls, a pert nose and eyes pale and sunken. It looks all wrong, set in a normally hale and healthy face, and Chrissy wonders if that was how she’d looked when someone found her swinging from the light fixture. 

“Get out!” the face hisses, before Robin panics and punches her. The face dissipates, once again nothing more than something meant to scare. Unfortunately, she’s doing a good job. 

Eddie is the only one to have any sense, grabbing hold of Chrissy’s hand and then Robin’s and pulling them both out of the door. 

“Where do we go?” Eddie shouts and Robin tugs in the opposite direction, until they’re made to follow her, a strange chain snaking down the corridor. 

When they burst in the door of another storage room, Murray looks up, crouched over the symbols he’d been drawing in black paint over the floor. Steve is sitting up, one side of his pretty face turning black and blue, while Jonathan hurriedly lights candles. 

“Move, move, move!” Robin babbles and lobs the cardigan at Murray. He deftly throws it in the metal can and douses it in accelerant. 

“This might get a little messy,” Murray warns, as Robin sits at the edge of the circle. “Spirits can get a little volatile when the exorcism process is in motion.”

“More volatile?” Eddie asks in disbelief, before Murray gestures them over to the circle. 

“In, in,” he says hurriedly, and Chrissy pulls Eddie past the line of candles. “Whatever happens, don’t leave the circle.”

“It should protect us from most things,” Steve says wearily. He has blood in his hairline, clumping against the brown waves. He’ll need medical help after this. “Like being thrown into a wall. Again.”

Murray strikes the match, muttering furiously under his breath. Chrissy only recognises a few words, the few pieces of the exorcism spell that she does know. The match flickers as a strange wind blows in but holds and Murray drops it into the can. 

The screaming starts the moment the cardigan catches light. 

Steve tenses, like he can sense something they can’t. “She’s here,” he says grimly. 

She’s not what Chrissy expected for her first ghost. Solid, almost…human. It’s only the soft glow of her skin, the faintest flicker, like a TV set not quite connected properly, that gives her away. 

“She’s wearing the cardigan,” Eddie whispers, staring at the ghost with fascination. Chrissy swallows. Ghosts don’t usually wear what they were wearing when they died so the cardigan must have been a favorite item of clothing. Something that Lucy felt was tied to her sense of self, that made her feel alive. 

“Do it now, Murray,” Robin urges, because burning the item isn’t enough. That’s why they came equipped with chicken blood, smoke sticks, bones…all of the items needed for an exorcism. 

If they hadn’t found the cardigan, the item tying her to the school and life, there’s no guarantee that the exorcism would take. 

Murray chimes a bell, the sound high and sharp. He has to recite a lot of latin, write some symbols in blood and not get killed in the process. Chrissy might be making it up on that last part but hey, it is her first exorcism. 

The ghost begins to scream again and Chrissy instinctively covers her ears. She can see Eddie next to her doing the same. 

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus,” Murray says, forging on. He unscrews the jar of blood and dips in a paintbrush. The circle they’re sitting in is for their protection - what Murray is about to do is to actively cast the ghost out. The latin incantation is long and Chrissy is really glad she doesn’t have to do it. “Omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii…”

Lucy’s screams become so loud that Chrissy can barely hear Murray’s words. There’s a strange wind whipping through the room, scattering debris and sending the lampshades swaying. Whatever protection magic that Steve and Murray setup seems to be working as inside of the circle is quiet and still. Shame it doesn’t work to block out Lucy’s screams. 

Murray is dropping items into the cauldron on top of the burning cardigan, still chanting. Robin is handing him items, the only one able to still focus amongst the chaos. 

“Domine expuere, domine expuere,” Murray continues, raising his voice to be heard over the howling wind and the unholy screaming. Chrissy cracks open an eye and Lucy no longer looks so solid or so human. There’s a strange white light in her eyes, under her skin, and she doesn’t know if it’s Lucy trying to scare them or the exorcism taking hold. 

“Unde abeo…” Murray shouts, striking a match. It flickers but holds and Murray holds it aloft. “Dei per, te rogamus, audi nos!”

The match lands in the cauldron, and the light that comes from within isn’t natural. Chrissy shuts her eyes again against the harsh flash of bright white light. It only gets brighter, burning against her closed eyelids until it fills the entire room. And then when Chrissy thinks that they’ve made a mistake, that something has gone wrong, the light fades back in on itself.

The overhead lights go out with a sharp crack and Chrissy covers her head against the blown glass. Her heart is pounding but there’s no strange smells, no cold breeze on the back of her neck. She slowly raises her head to find they’re sitting in total darkness. 

“Well,” Murray says pleasantly and turns on a torch. His voice sounds rough from having to scream the last part of the exorcism but otherwise he looks no worse for wear. “I think that went rather well.”

“Oh, did it?” Steve asks nastily, blood still clumping in his dark hair. Murray looks unconcerned. 

“I don’t have your natural talent and experience with the dark arts, Steven,” he says, putting the lid back on the jar of blood. “This is my third exorcism. So yes, quite well. No one died, did they?” he asks, when Steve continues to glare. 

“Maybe not but it was close,” Robin says ruefully. She pats Chrissy’s knee. “Thank God we had Chrissy to find the item so quickly.” Murray just beams. 

“I told you a Seer would be useful,” he says and cracks his fingers. “We’d better tidy up. The school board might panic if they see what they think is a site of satanic worship.”

Chrissy pulls herself up. She wishes there was light, just to be sure that the ghost is truly gone. She still feels like there’s ghostly fingers just waiting to grab her the moment she leaves the circle’s protection. 

But then Robin strides over the black symbols without a second thought. She grabs the other torches from their bags, flicking them on and distributing them. Jonathan helps Steve up, who is swaying slightly as he rises. 

“Does anyone want to explain it to me now?” Eddie demands furiously. Steve just presses a hand to his forehead, wincing when his fingers come away red. 

“Someone not needing a trip to the hospital can do it,” he says wearily. “Welcome to the club, Munson.”

[baddreamsandoldbones]

@hellcheeranniversaryweek

WIP WEDNESDAY - WIP AMNESTY

“Why are our dates always in graveyards?” Chrissy asks casually. Eddie swings their gloved hands back and forth, looking like any other young couple in love.

If most young couples didn’t hide stakes and knives in their pockets.

“Convenience?” he says. Ahead of them, Nancy and Jonathan stalk between the graves. Nancy’s fashionable dark coat flares out with every step, while Jonathan is tucked up in his dad’s old jacket. “We’re out here anyway. We get to spend time together and risk our lives in one easy package.”

“Romantic,” Chrissy adds, but honestly? She doesn’t mind. It’s kind of their thing and there’s not a member of the party who hasn’t been on a date in the Hawkins graveyard. 

“I take you to all the best places, sweetheart,” Eddie says, with that impish grin that makes her heart stop. She squeezes his palm in hers, having to restrain herself from staring at him instead of the scattered graves looming out of the dark. She’s psychic. Not stupid.

This is a ‘I really hope I come back to some day’ rather than will never finish type thing. I started this Buffy AU for the Hellcheer AU bingo and ran out of time to finish it. And then I had other projects and finishing this one just got away from me. So far, I just don’t have concrete plans to do so.

I started this AU with Harringrove week but I never actually had Hellcheer on the page so I jumped at writing for them in this universe. And reading it again with their dynamic and psychic!Chrissy, I’m feeling that this is a missed opportunity I’d love to come back to.

[baddreamsandoldbones]

Luna 32 UK she/her

- I write Hellcheer fic in a variety of AUs (pirates! thieves! vampire slayers!) - Find me on AO3 here - I run Hellcheer Anniversary Week - My main blog is @theladycarpathia where I blog Harringrove and 911 stuff - I'm on Discord and always happy to chat Hellcheer Event submissions

Hellcheer Week Dungeons and Dragons Band Modern AU Historical HurtxComfort Horror Crossover Soulmates HeroesxVillains

Hellcheer AU bingo Criminals Roommates In Space Soulmates Buffy AU

OneYearofHellcheer Rockstar wife part one part two Castle AU witchxcoffee shop high school reunion classprojectxmiscommunication

Cheers2Hellcheer Bachelor/Bachelorette Friday Night Football Game Missed Connection Graduation Hanahaki High School Reunion Stardust Time and Space Third Date Trying to Make it Big in LA

[theladycarpathia]

Hey, guess who finished Nano! Did she do any work on her original fiction? No. Did she write a bunch of Hellcheer/Harringrove/Cherik instead? Uh...

Man, I have too many projects. Have an update of my current WIPs.

Pirate Hellcheer au: Drafting, close to editing. 10 chapters, currently 18,872 words.

Creel House au: Drafting, close to editing. 6 chapters, currently 13,450 words.

Scream au: Plotting/drafting. Six chapters, currently 2,212 words. 

Season 4 au: Drafting, ongoing. BIG project. Currently 11,546 words, not including previously written ficlets.

Magic S2 au: Plotted, drafting. Currently 1,266 words. 

A/B/O au: Plotting. 

Soulmate au: Currently plotting.

Superhero au: Plotted. Probably 3 chapters, low priority.

Supernatural au: Plotting. 

Hawkins academy Hellcheer au: Likely to be a full fic eventually.  Not yet plotted.

Buffy au: Likely to be a full fic, not yet plotted.

Random domestic Cherik fic: ...we’re not gonna talk about this one. This is what I get for watching all the X-men films again. 

[theladycarpathia]

Luna’s Fic Masterlist

Harringrove Harvest Mrs Click’s Classroom during Hawkins High prom Bonus: June prompt Hawkins Country Club during a benefit The Annual Henderson’s Haunted House Ghostface Ghosthunters Demons and/or Angels x Aged Up The Abandoned Ruins of Starcourt Mall Campfire Stories  WitchesxOnlineDating Ritual Sex  Invite Only  Buffy AU Couples Costumes A/O/B in the apocalypse

Hellcheer Week Dungeons and Dragons Band Modern AU Historical HurtxComfort Horror Crossover Soulmates HeroesxVillains

Hellcheer AU bingo Criminals Roommates In Space Soulmates

Billy’s Birthday Bonanza Unrequited love One night stand in the apocalypse Microwave dinner Steve’s closet during spring break party A mix tape Detective au/last chances Steve Harrington’s childhood tree-house

July mini Harringrove week Heatwave Last Day at Summer Camp Sixteen Candles at the drive in