#death comes to all those that fear it yet it longs for those that do not. <3

[justpoliteconversations]

About the apple merchant story (it lives rent free in my mind always): Please let me hug Link please. One hug. Just one. Please he makes me so sad dhshsjsj

For the little shadowling that came to say hello.

---

Embrace [BOTW!Link x Isekai!Reader] (Apple Merchant Extra)

What if Link had teleported home immediately after defeating Vah Ruta? (An alternative route for after Part 6.)

(Far too tired to edit tonight. I'll do it later.)

Part: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

Alternate Extras: Embrace

Masterlist

TW: Choosing not to display warnings. Read at your own discretion.

Disclaimer: Don't own The Legend of Zelda franchise.

---

Blue had come to you in the dead of night (just as you were finally getting ready to sleep after a long day's travel), dressed in full sheikah armor and eyes as dispassionate as they've ever been. And maybe you'd have believed that too, had Red not confided in you all those weeks ago. And if not for the words that left her in a low, monotones whisper.

"Courageous One's beloved. I request your presence." She'd intoned, but you could hear the command in her voice even as she remained in a subservient position kneeled at your bedside. "Master Link is in need of your comfort. Lest he falter in his duties as Hyrule's Hero."

You wanted to question her as to this sudden and unexpected change of heart regarding the sheikah's intentions, but you restrained yourself. Taking that prickling curiosity at the forefront of your mind and pushing it away in favor of the unease that permeated within your heart instead.

"The zora." You mumbled quietly, letting your gaze fixate on the blankets laid warmly on your legs. Displeasure trying to crawl up your throat and take home in your thoughts. But you shook away those spiteful whispers before they could poison your heart.

You disapproved of the hatred the elder zora held towards Link (and by extension, hyrulians). It was cruel of them to lay blame for Ganon's crimes upon his victims without regard to how the story had unfolded. To use them as scapegoats when the true focus of their ire was out of reach and far beyond their power to defeat.

It was an addicting kind of self-soothing that had been left to fester throughout their long lives, fueled by their guilt and fear. Guilt for their powerlessness, and fear not just for the world's future, but for that of their beloved royal family.

As told by the grape vine that weaves thickly through the Stable System, King Dorephan had lost his beloved mate too soon (the cause was kept quiet, but rumor has it it had been to birthing complications). Shortly after the birth of their son, Prince Sidon, in fact (thier second child and their only spare).

And after her passing the King choose to never take another (a controversial decision), instead spending the rest of his breeding years grieving his dearly departed and raising their heirs instead of producing more spares to ensure the royal bloodline in those turbulent times.

(Yet, the King received only whispered sympathy from his people, and the young Prince adored all the more for his status as final heir to a beloved, departed Queen.

It's always been easiest to demonize an unfamiliar face, after all. Easier to spit upon another race than to fault the heart of a grief stricken man and an innocent child.)

With the death of their Princess, Mipha, the zoras had lost not just a beloved healer and gracious future ruler. They lost half of their royal bloodline, their future. They who's ears reach the Goddesses' songs, or some such saying (in other words, gigantism, an inheritable trait found only in the zora's royal family line. by magic or genetic mutation, you didn't know).

And so, the zora of the time had taken their fear and guilt and unspoken grievances and shaped it into the hatred that only future generations seem to have been able to deluded from their racial conscience. Sidon, the Prince himself, being a shining example of this. And honestly, may well have been the spark for this (positive) change in the zora's newest generation as well.

There was a reason you never bothered trying to enter Zora's Domain. And it wasn't even the lizalfors. Though maybe in a few decades, you might give it a try.

Blue nodded at your quiet utterance, eyes cold and sharp under the veil of feigned disinterest. And you wondered, silently, what she was feeling right now. If she was truly so angered on Link's behalf, or if she was frustrated at her superiors for making this level of secrecy necessary (it had not escaped your notice that everyone in the stable was far too quiet for simple sleep. even the desk attendant was slumped over, quiet. chest barely moving. drugged).

Maybe even both. Even as removed from the sheikah's plotting as you were, you still understood that the girls were making independent moves outside of their given assignments. Perhaps even going against orders (their direct superior's orders, not yours. surprisingly. or perhaps not so surprising given Red's apparent fondness for your rupees, the opportunistic jerk).

None of that mattered right now though. Not even the yiga and the very real threat they still posed to your life.

All that mattered was Link, and that he was distraught enough to force the twins' hands to such an extent. That the situation was bad enough to ask permission to temporarily disregard the established agreement (bound by contract and enough rupees to tempt a saint).

"Take me to him." You said quietly, hands clutching the bedspread. Fingers twisted into silky cloth tight enough to hurt. Letting the soft, plush weight of it sooth your agitated nerves. Grounding yourself from the whirlwind of emotions that wanted to overwhelm you even as you kept your tone smooth and even. "Please."

She nodded, moving closer with eeriely silent strides and plucking you from the bed with frightening ease (you hadn't even realized what was happening until you were in her armor clad arms). The suddenness of the action nearly pulled a gasp from your lips. But it caught in your throat at the sudden speed as which she was all but flying through the moonlit fields.

She was such a a small woman. Seemingly delicate as a butterfly's flutter and soft as blossom petals. Yet you could feel the way her muscles pushed at your weight with unyielding strength.

In that moment, she felt as tall and imposing as a mountain. As solid as stone and as powerful as a hurricane ripping along the coastline.

In that moment, you were reminded that this woman (these women, beautiful and graceful and spirited both) were warriors. Born and raised. Trained until their hands bled and their bones twisted into the steel of a tempered blade.

And you had never felt more protected than in Blue's arms.

(Spit in the eye of the elders, Red had said. You were certain this woman would sooner stab them in the face.)

You just hoped that strength would be enough to protect Link until he was strong enough to protect himself. And enough to protect her as well. From whatever it was that had stolen the light from her eyes.

---

You weren't sure whether to be impressed by Blue's speed, or irritated that she managed to undo a day's worth of travel in just a couple hours (how the in world were you going to explain this to Skims and Adino? Red most certainly won't be any help. you can already tell). But one thing was for sure, you were never going to piss this woman off. That was for damned sure.

That wasn't what had your attention at the moment though. That was the sight of Link tied by the wrists to his bed, blindfolded.

And why was Red here, sitting at the table as though this was a perfectly normal thing to walk into (how had she even gotten here before you and Blue? why hadn't she been the one to take you back to Hateno if she was going to be here anyway)?

Link was awake and alert, pinched brows and down turned mouth looking just as befuddled (and maybe even a bit scared) as yourself at the current happenings. His delicate ears tracking your footsteps (Blue's were quiet, even on hardwood floors. what a scary realization) as you moved up the stairs and closer to his bed (your blanket dragging slightly across the floor, too heavy and thick to comfortably carry in your arms).

He was handsome for sure, all long blonde hair, elegantly sharp features and lithe muscle. But not quite as flawless as he had been portrayed as in the games (which was to be expected, but was still jarring. even after having come to terms with the reality of this world's imperfections).

The scars were by far the most prominent detail about him, even accounting for his noble features and toned physic. Hard, knotted patches of discolored skin sprawled across the left side of his face, shoulders and chest. Pink and raw looking, for all it was plain to see these horrendous burn marks had long since healed.

His skin too, was another thing that set him apart from his game presentation. Where as the game had shown Link to possess a pretty peach complexion with rosy cheeks, the man before you was off-puttingly pale (almost grey in the cheeks). So much so it was concerning. With the beginnings of a tan just beginning to take form on his forehead and the bridge of his nose.

Sick. You realized link was sick. No. That wasn't quite right. It wasn't sickness that seemed to be clinging to him like a veil.

Had Link ever fully recovered from his time trapped in the shrine?

Your memories of the game were foggy and unclear after so much time spent in this world. But there was one thing you did remember clearly when you pulled at the strings of your memories.

It was Zelda's voice, urging Link up from his slumber (tired and pleading, after 100 years of fighting a battle of wills). And Link, hitting the ground running. Without thought for his own wellbeing. Without consideration for his still recovering body. Just bullheaded determination and an unbreakable spirit driving him forward.

Your stomach clenched at the realization. Something that hadn't truly hit you with its entirety until you had finally cast your gaze upon the very man who had lived through it all (was still living through it).

Not a game character. Not the concept of heroism given humanoid form. But a man, small and confused and fighting to right the wrongs of a hundred years ago. Having to accept that everything he once had was gone now. And that he must now fight a battle he doesn't even remember having a stake in.

You cast a questioning (concerned) look over at Blue. But she ignored you, instead saying softly (and far less tensely than when you were at the stables) to Link. "Courageous one. Your beloved is here to offer you comfort."

Link tilted his head. Uncomprehending.

Blue cast a glance towards Red, who nodded quietly. Not even looking up from whatever she was doing at the table.

At the gesture, Blue continued. "They may not speak to you." She cast a cool glance your way, the hard glint of her eyes telling you more than a thousand words ever could. "And you are forbidden from touching them. This is to ensure you will not be tempted to- memorize their voice or distinctive features."

A moment of silence. Then confusion. And then (finally) the dawning light of comprehension seemed to line every inch of his diminutive form.

The change in him was immediate. Link's whole entire body tensed, the bonds at his wrists creaking under the pressure he was exerting on them in his stiffened state (as did the headboard. and you had a feeling only Blue's presence was keeping him from breaking free with brute force). His chest nearly shaking with the intensity of whatever emotions held him in their sway.

His face had twisted into a complicated expression. Lips taunt, scars pulled tight at the skin of his face (what was visible through the blindfold) and fair brows pulled into an almost grimace.

One breath. Two. And then, he spoke. "AM." He breathed, quiet and shaking. Raspy, dry and unpleasant (and beloved. so much so your heart ached with the feeling). "AM. I-" And just like that, his voice broke. Fractured. Shattered.

His hands tensed into fists, his teeth grit against the pull of his lips. His shoulders shook.

And you just. Moved.

Dropping the blankets, nearly tripping over the bulk of them in your haste, you fell hands first onto the bed. Barely taking the time to regain your balance before slotting yourself into Link's side (warm and solid and so very alive) and pressing yourself into his space.

You ignored his tensed form. His shudder as your night chilled clothes pressed against his own skin warmed ones. And spooned into his side as best you could with his arms bound above his head. Your upper body laid against his own, arms wrapped around his chest and head tucked under his chin. Trying to cover as much of him as possible (trying to hide him from the world and everything it demanded of him. trying to absorb all that pained his heart into your own body).

You squeezed him with all your might (pitiful though it may have been to someone physically blessed as the goddess' chosen champion), words sitting at the tip of your tongue, begging to be spoken. Unsaid and burning at the base of your throat. Held back only by the strength of your resolve, and the silent promise to do better.

To fight with everything in your power to do right by this man.

A man who had been demanded to give everything for the greater good. Even if it meant making a deal with the devil itself. Even if it meant losing himself. All. Over. Again.

You would make sure this man succeeded.

You would make sure he thrived.

His chest heaved under you, breaths coming in short, ragged gasps (quiet though, as though afraid to rise above a faint whisper). His throat bobbing under your cheek in thick, painful sounding swallows. His entire body was shaking, and you could feel the warmth of something wet soaking into the crown of your hair.

You squeezed harder, pushing every once of your care and devotion into the action. Gritting your teeth against the torrent of warmth that flooded behind your eyes, burning, demanding to be released. Demanding that you do more than just cling to him in a bid at comfort.

The tension in his body released all at once, and a ragged sob forced its way out of his throat. Long and raw and achingly vulnerable. Like nothing you've ever heard before.

And you sobbed right along with him, bitting back all the words you wished to tell him more than anything. Cursing the circumstances that had led to this moment.

And so thankful too. Thankful that you could be here in his time of need. Even if all you could do was hold him as he cried. As he broke apart beneath you.

And so, you sobbed all the harder. For the Link that had had to cry alone once upon a time.

---

Back to the shadows.

Tagging: @littlepanda7 @2000babies @danyzta

#botw link #isekai reader #botw x reader #link x reader #link x you

[yanderes-galore]

Platonic Hiccup Haddock III with his sister? Thank you

Sure! Sorry for the long wait, I wasn't sure what direction to take this so this is me thinking of small scenarios.

Yandere! Platonic! Hiccup with Sister! Darling

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Manipulation, Fear of Loss, Clingy behavior, Jealousy, Slight stalking, Hellicopter brother, Dubious companionship.

I like to imagine maybe you're the younger sister of Hiccup or are similar in age.

You've been raised alongside your brother and father, believing your mother is dead.

Your father is naturally overprotective of you, which probably makes Hiccup overprotective of you.

Ever since the "death" of your mother, Hiccup has been taught to watch over you.

This overprotective behavior is no doubt why later in life you don't get a dragon for awhile.

Platonic! Hiccup is no doubt just him being a helicopter brother to you.

Hiccup seems like the type to worry about every little thing when it comes to his sister's safety.

For example, he'd fuss over your protective gear before you eventually ride a dragon.

He'd want to pick a dragon he knows can protect you rather than one you want.

He's a bit paranoid when it comes to you.

However... he's still a brother.

He tries to support you, he even takes you on rides with Toothless if he knows Toothless will be gentle.

He often has Toothless help train your dragon so Hiccup knows they're safe.

Even when you both find out your mom is alive, Hiccup doesn't relent.

In fact, he even tells your mom how well he protected you.

His worries only get worse when your father dies, anyways....

You just know Hiccup is one of those overprotective brothers who judges who you're around.

He's no doubt used to when you both played together as kids.

That and he just... wants to make sure your friends and potential partners are safe.

I feel Hiccup wouldn't isolate you... but he'd insert himself into your conversations.

He makes it clear to people that he's looking out for you.

Much to your dismay.

He's naive to the fact you may not like him around all the time.

He's so used to betrayal and playing protector that he forgets he's supposed to let you be independent.

To him, he feels he'll always be part of your life.

It hurts him when you try and push him way.

You're not kids anymore.

He seems to have trouble understanding that.

He gets a bit jealous when you have a life of your own, speaking with friends and maybe even finding a partner.

He tries his best to bottle it for you, to have you happy.

But he can't help but have Toothless follow you or one of his other friends check in on you.

There's times he has to hold back on telling off those around you... seeing them as "bad influences".

He probably means well... yet at some point he should learn that he has to let you go.

A platonic yandere Hiccup would focus more on his sister's safety than her happiness.

He feel you're happiest with him.

Which makes him threaten and judge your social circle.

You can tell him off, yet he may just ignore you.

In his eyes, you're his sister... he's your protector and you should rely on him.

Which unfortunately just drives you apart... making him try harder... which causes more harm than good.

Sure, you two originally got along.

You originally did everything together.

Hiccup is so used to that, so deep in his delusions... That he may socially isolate you on accident.

However, to him? It doesn't matter too much...

He'll promise to be the best for you as your brother... just please stop ignoring him...!

"Did... did I do something wrong...? I just want you safe, I swear! Please don't look at me like that!"

#yandere how to train your dragon #yandere httyd #yandere hiccup haddock #yandere hiccup horrendous haddock #platonic yandere

[dearmrshudson]

The post of saddest(?) supernatural moment gave me the idea to maka a list of my own... You know, an honest list which will not push any agenda or exclude one of the main character completely to forcefully feed to a romantic pair which does not even exist.

so here it goes-

10. Dean's reaction after Sam's death in 13x21 :

This one is so nominal and insignificant to be in this list and not one of top moments for a lot, but this scene ripped my heart open when I saw it for the first time. It manages to show us how Dean's whole world will literally fall apart and make him an empty vessel if Sam is gone and he can do nothing about it - and Jensen manages to portray it with just a walk, two blank eyes and then one drop of tear. Kudos.

9. Church Scene in 'Sacrifice' (8x23):

Anyone who has not cried in this scene? Perfeftly shows the core of the show, the deep love between two brothers- despite all the reasons, all the idiological differences, all the mature discussion and all- Sam is the baby brother of Dean; at the end he needs Dean to be there as a big bro, to tell him to let it go, to clutch him in his chest. Ultimately they will always choose each other and nothing else will come between them.

8. Dean's death in 9x23:

One of the saddest death of Dean, and perhaps it comes to this list because of the build-up and drama follows this. Both had their own reasons for the tension they had this whole season, but when the tragedy comes it hits so hard that all those logics fell apart. It scares to peep in Sam's headspace at this time of dean's dying- imagine you discarding the person you love the most as you are reasonably angry with him, and in a few days he is dying in your arms when you have hardly talked out your differences.

7. Why don’t you believe in us too (14x12) :

Probably should come much later in this list, but this scene stood out in my eyes because it was such a fresh air in the terrible plotless mimicry that SPN had become in later seasons. The scene after ages which sums up Sam and Dean, the codependent brothers whom we had forgotten. Such a long time after we see Sam the little brother, witness the emotional turmoil he was going through silently and how it exploded. The only scene which makes season 14 worth remembering. Also Jared just nailed this scene!

6.) Dead or Alive (3x16):

This scene breaks my heart in pieces. Dean bravely going for the last fight before the horrible death he will be facing. And he trying to cheer up baby bro, he wants the last memory with his brother to be in this car- singing along together... How his face slowly glooms at the end and his eyes full of fear... Early seasons really were gems!

5. Sam in Mystery spot (3x11) :

Undoubtedly one of the best SPN episode with perfect blend of mystery, fun, laughter, tragedy and emotion... The funny vibe of the episode ends in a moment when we see Sam is not waking up from the nightmare loop. Then we see a robot- a scary robot who only wants to get his brother back at any cost. This episode is yet another example of how Sam loves Dean just as fiercely as Dean does, and he is not any less codependent.

4. Barn scene and alone Sam (15x20) :

God! What can I say about this!

Just want to add, Sam wandering alone in the bunker after creamating Dean hurts me equally.

3. John's death (2x01):

Cannot forget this one. This episode happens to be another favourite of mine, and the way John sacrifices himself for his son proves that a father can go to any extent for his children. The farewell scene of John - where he asks for forgiveness and goodbye to dean without him understanding brings tears to my eyes. Such a beautiful acting by JDM and so realistic portrayal of a flawed, helpless and loving father.

2. End of Season 5 (5x22)

The ground was set, the battle was about to begin, the ultimate faceoff between Lucifer and Michael was going to start- then what happens? A stubborn idiot boy with a muscle car and hellbent attitude comes in between- knowing that he cannot survive this- just because one of these celestial entities have captured his brother as a vessel and he won’t leave his brother alone. Till his last drop of blood he keeps on trying- trying to reach his brother who is trapped under something much bigger- keeps on telling that It's okay, he is not alone, his big brother is here. And guess what, he succeed. His brother broke free the bind of one of the strongest entity of universe and fought. The climax scene gives me goosebump always followed by a bunch of grief and saddness the ending carries. Had season 5 been the last season of SPN, and this be the exact way the series ended, I would absolutely have no regret!

1. Sammy's first Death (2x21):

No matter how many sad scenes are perfectly executed in SPN, nothing can exceed the emotion of this one. Jensen will also not be able to exceed the level of performance be set in this particular scene. Period.

So this is it... I must have excluded many. And turns out my list is full of Sam and Dean only and I am also not unbiased 🤣🤣 Well, there are sad scenes that do not involve only the brothers and I still like them, but not my top 10. Maybe have to make list of top 11 to 20 in order to include them. 😁

Please share your favourite saddest top 10 as well.

#supernatural #sam winchester #dean winchester #sam and dean #john winchester #spn #jensen ackles #j2 #anti destiel #top 10 list #jared padalecki #best episode

[howlingday]

Do you think the Nuckalevee was a proper threat? If not how would have you improved it?

Yes, I think it was, especially for the time. Let's look at its design. The bottom half of the Grimm is a massive horse, which gives it an edge in both speed and strength. Heck, I'm pretty sure Jaune was the only member of the team who could have held up the monster like that. The top half is a horned humanoid with long, extendable arms and a screech attack to stun anyone too close.

To be honest, the point of every Grimm is to be a threat that everyone wants dead and gone. This devil/demon Grimm fits very well into this standard. I mean, just looking at this thing gives me the creeps, which is another factor in its favor as it inspired fear from the team, especially in the two that were haunted by this monster in the first place.

Now, I will be fair and say that the team wouldn't have struggled this much if it weren't for a few factors already going on in the team. First, Qrow, the one with the most experience compared to the others combined, is on death's door from his fight against Tyrian Callows. Second, Pyrrha had recently died and her death had an effect on everyone, most of all on Jaune, who was using a weapon he wasn't fully used to yet. And last, as I said before, Ren and Nora are now reliving the nightmare that haunted them all those years ago, with the former going into a blood-rage that almost gets him killed. It was only through Nora knocking sense into Ren that the team was able to finally come together as Team RNJR ("It's JNRR!") and avenge the deaths of Kuroyuri, most notably Ren's parents, in one of the most satisfying Ren moments we have ever seen.

No notes for improvement, but I'm sure somebody in the comments will have something.

#rwby #my thoughts #the nuckelavee #nuckelavee #grimm #lie ren #qrow branwen #jaune arc #ruby rose #nora valkyrie #my answer #my answers

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

F***ing FINALLY!!! I've been looking for stuff with a Reader saving Dogday since he's been introduced and I've only got like, three so far-

And I want this Reader to be resourceful, using anything to patch Dogday up(including scraps of Miss Delight's dress)

I hear your calls <3

...............

"You're wasting precious time, angel. Poppy needs you. I'm only gonna slow you down. Just leave me here, and tell her I'm-"

"You'll get to tell her that yourself, Dogday. Because I'm not going anywhere. I'm gonna help you whether you like it or not."

With a huff, you used the grabpack to wheel in a cart filled with an assortment of items you picked up around the Playcare area: doll parts, plush felt, metal bars, and even Dogday's other missing leg, which you have miraculously found in the playhouse.

You did your best to stitch them back onto his body, although the real challenge was fixing them up first--considering how badly they got mangled by the smaller Smiling Critters. Through sheer luck, you were still able to recognize them as his legs.

And conveniently, you've retained some of your craftsmanship skills from your days working with Playtime Co.

You were given some praise for being able to speedily patch up broken and torn-up toys, but you've never touched upon any of the "Bigger Bodies" despite seeing similar injuries on them. They simply never gave you that clearance, and dealing with blood and organs (and possible death) was something way above your paygrade.

But with Dogday, you were able to apply similar techniques you used in doll repair. You made patches out of Miss Delight's polka-dot dress to cover up any tears, and you created small mechanisms to put inside his legs that would (hopefully) enable him to walk again.

It was like you were performing a surgical operation..

Except, well..that's exactly what was going on.

Despite your unwavering determination--and the fact that you succeeded in reattaching one leg to him so far--he insisted that you were only putting yourself at risk trying to help him.

Hell, you nearly got torn apart by those little Smiling Critters who chased you both down, being scared off by the flares you shot at them. He didn't think you'd have enough..but by the grace of god, you did. And you escaped and found a safe place where Kissy Missy and Poppy were also hiding out.

Not only did you finally get a breather, but also a chance to help one of the few toys left here who somehow didn't lose their humanity.

Even so, Dogday still feared for your safety.

"You know..this will only enrage Catnap, right?" He rasped, choking out a wet cough. "He'll know that I'm missing. And he'll know you have something to do with it.."

"Wait.." Pausing in your work, you glanced up at him with furrowed eyebrows. "Why would he care about where you are? Or better yet..why would he keep you alive at all?"

"...because I was his favorite."

"Huh..?"

"Before the Prototype became his sole focus, we did everything together." He explained somberly. "We helped the others fall asleep, stayed out of trouble. Catnap and I..we were like day and night. Two peas in a pod. He brands me a heretic now, but...somehow, I don't believe he likes doing so. Maybe..he hasn't forgotten our friendship, after all."

'Well, stringing someone up by belts and ripping off half their body doesn't sound like something a good friend would do..' You thought to yourself, although you understood where he was coming from.

Yet it didn't change the fact you still wanted to kill that stupid purple cat. Especially after he gave you that hellish nightmare of Huggy crawling out of a television.

"I know you wanna believe there's still good in him, but..he's long gone." You shook your head. "Those critters..they tried crawling inside your body, and he was just gonna allow it all because you didn't wanna follow the Prototype's will."

"........"

Silence was your only reply, but you decided to shift your focus back on repairing the other leg. Dogday allowed you to work, no longer protesting as he instead looked at the stitches on his arms, feeling grateful yet unworthy at the same time.

Him and the others...they were all monsters. He never killed a single human in his existence (or at least none that he could recall), but he felt like he was just as terrible as those who did.

Eventually, you finished, and his ears perked up at your sigh of relief as you set down your tools and pushed the cart away. "There we go. Try to stand up, but take it slow. Okay?"

He nodded, feeling quite nervous as he looked at his legs, before he slowly pushed himself off the ground. For a few moments, he was able to stand, but he wobbled a little and had to hold onto the nearest wall so he didn't lose balance.

'When was the last time I had my legs? It's been so long...'

Then he felt your grabpack's hands gently steady him, and soon enough he could stand on his own without their support.

You smiled and retracted them. "How do you feel?"

"Much better...thank you, angel." Dogday looked down at you, the corners of his wide smile turning further upwards. "You truly are something divine. You've come to heal us, mend all of our broken pieces, even when we do not deserve such kindness. How could I ever repay you?"

Right as you were about to respond, you heard sounds of plush feet moving and turned around, seeing Kissy and Poppy entering the room.

You didn't really he'd nearly be as tall as Huggy's spouse.

"You fixed him! What can't you do?" The redhaired doll gasped in awe, hopping onto Kissy's hand before she was carefully transferred over to Dogday's paws, stepping into them.

He held her gently, smiling. "Poppy."

"It's so good to see you, my friend." She smiled, although it was quick to disappear. "I thought all of you were gone."

"It's just me now, and...I'm....I-I'm...." He began to sniffle, his voice breaking as the weight of everything that's happened came crashing down. "I'm so sorry...I tried so hard, but...I-I failed! I couldn't protect them!"

Thin streams of tears seeped from the corners of his eyes, darkening the fur along his cheeks. "Kickin'...B-Bobby..they all died because of me! I was supposed to be their leader, but all I did was lead them to their demise! I-I should have joined them in-"

"There, there..it's going to be alright." Poppy softly hushed him, patting his arm in comfort. "You did your best to protect them given the circumstances. I promise we'll have our chance to avenge them. But you must live, for their sake..and for [y/n]'s sake, too. They went through a lot to fix you up."

"I know but..I-I'm so scared. I don't wanna face him alone-"

"You won't be alone, because I'm gonna take care of him."

With another sniffle, Dogday looked down at you, feeling you gently petting his ear as another comforting gesture. Your eyes held nothing but sympathy and heartache for this poor creature. "I'm sorry, but we have to put him down. It's the only way we can move forward."

"Are you sure?" He mumbled. "He's gotten more powerful, and hungry-"

"So were Huggy and Mommy, but I saw how [y/n] dealt with them..and they're more than capable." Poppy remarked. "But now that Catnap's onto them, they'll need all the protection they can get."

"Then..I'll do my best to help." He finally declared, smiling at you.

You blinked, surprised that he was willing to stand up against the one who tortured him. But you simply nodded and smiled back, watching as he returned Poppy to Kissy, before he turned back to you and crouched down.

He enveloped you in a warm hug, the vanilla scent still seeping from his suit and helping you feel more at ease.

"Thank you, Dogday." You chuckled, hugging him back.

"No..thank you, my guardian angel. I will follow you to the ends of the earth."

#clanask #poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime dogday #dogday x reader #poppy playtime poppy #kissy missy #platonic #poppy playtime spoilers #hurt/comfort

[call-me-strega]

Dc x Dp prompt #13: Hell to Pay

They say there are only two things certain in life: death and taxes. That’s why even the Joker doesn’t fuck with the IRS.

However, unfortunately for the Joker the other certainty is death and he has yet to pay his dues. Just like how he could only get away with tax evasion for so long, there are only so many times the Joker can dodge death.

Death is coming to collect, with interest.

And the Joker will have hell to pay.

~ A dark green cloud swirls over the city. From it, emerge three oppressive figures:

The one on the far left with flowing hair like white-hot fire. His vambraces made of (what appeared to be) molten glass stopped under his fingers, which then extend into into claws that seemed to drip lava. He had spiked obsidian pauldrons on his shoulders, fastening a luminous, stark-white cape to his shoulders. He wore a coronet of lightning and wielded a flail that appeared to be made of coal chains and a shrunken Red Giant star.

The second on the far right had a helm of dark iron wreathed in a plume of purple flame. His gauntlets and sword flamed with green hellfire. A pure black sheath seemingly made of void and a silver hunting horn were tied to his waist. He wore an armor forged of shadows and proofed with fear. He rode atop a mighty stead. An inky dark stallion with a curved horn and bat-like wings. His form was constantly slightly shifting depending on the angle which you viewed him making him appear larger and more slippery than he was, enhancing his disquieting nature.

The third stood in the middle, smaller but no less terrifying than her companions. Her hair was wild with movement, only just visible because it appeared as if someone had bound the winds to her head. She wore a tiara made of storm clouds and pearls. She carried with her a spear, the shaft crafted of amazonite and the tip of a clear quartz, almost reminiscent of sea salt. At her hip lay a whip made of a restrained gale and a sea glass knife. She wore armor that appeared to be Greco-Roman in origin: a chest plate made of some sort of coral-like material and a battle skirt decorated with metallic bronze feathers.

They slowly descent on the city, bringing down a sense of power and dread. They paused at the top of Wayne Tower, where the city's vigilantes had all gathered in an attempt to create and feasible plan of action to discern what these beings want. The young woman in the middle speaks and the wind carries her voice. She is not loud but it the whole of Gotham hears her words.

"Greetings, Heroes of Gotham. It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Spirit, Princess and Head Diplomat of the Infinite Realms. This is Samhain, the Fright Knight, loyal knight to the king,” she gestured to her right before switching to her left “and this is Prince Wraith, current General in Chief of the Realms. We come to you as the King’s Guard and entourage. We have official business in your city and wish to civilly notify you of our presence. The King will be arriving shortly and your cooperation would be great fully received.”

Batman moved forward to shake her hand and address the situation.

“I’m afraid that we prefer not to have unknowns operating within the city. Would you be able to tell us what business you have here? Perhaps we could reach an agreement?” Batman tried to negotiate as politely as he could. He did not want to risk offending the evidently powerful beings.

Princess Spirit’s smile sharpened as she thrummed her finger against her knife. She spoke again with an unnervingly pleasant tone.

“It appears you do not understand. We are not asking for your permission.” Her grip around his hand tightened. “ We are informing you.” She finished releasing his hand.

Batman withdrew his aching hand and regarded her with the beginnings of a protest on his lips. She didn’t allow him to speak.

“ This is out of your jurisdiction Batman. This is a matter of the Realms and the Afterlife. Whatever worldly rules or morals you wish to impose on those who enter this city do not apply to us. We will do our best to work within them, so as to appease you and to attempt to maintain a friendly relationship but in the macrocosm of the multiverse and afterlives you have no official power over us. Additionally, we have direct permission to operate here however we see fit from the City Spirit herself, Lady Gotham.”

Batman’s shadow seemed to fluctuated. His and his team's shadows moved from beneath them, closer to the Princess. Lady Gotham, though not manifesting, was making her presence and approval known. Batman could not deny what he was seeing. His team shifted uncomfortably behind him. He appealed to her once more.

“ I see that we can’t stop you. We don’t want to get in your way either. Could you at least tell us why you are here?”

She smiled as if telling a joke, “All will be revealed in time”

Suddenly, there was a loud noise that sounded like tearing fabric. The green clouds mixed with purples and blues and began to churn faster. The cyclone emitted a flashes of bright light. In unison all three of the King’s Guard lifted up from the roof and took place underneath the eye of the wind storm.

Spirit holds her spear aloft. With one swift, commanding move she slams the butt of her spear down, creating a platform out of solidified air.

Wraith bellows out smoke and ash onto the platform to discolor it. With ferocious and precise movements his claws to carve in a sigil, leaving a soft orange glow against the black and gray.

Samhain sheathes his sword and pulls his horn from his waist. He wills his dark stead to rear up as he blows the horn, letting out one loud prolonged cry.

The three warriors stand at attention and Princess Spirit calls the winds to project her voice once more.

“ Now introducing the Ruler of the Infinite Realms, High King of the In-Between, The Great One, The Benevolent King, The Peace Maker, The Guardian of Souls, The One with the Cloak of Stars and the Crown of Frozen Light, The Perfect Balance, Ancient of Space and Reality, The Infinite King: Phantom!”

With a flash of white light a figure appear in the center of the platform. Simultaneously, the three knights bow in reverence.

The King has arrived.

As the Heroes of Gotham regain clear vision they are met with a striking figure.

There stood a toned young man appearing both boyishly young, yet wisened and weathered. He had side swept hair the creeped to the bottom of his neck. His skin was pale with an icy blue tint. He opened his eyes to reveal they shone an electric green. Upon his head rest a crown made of a crystalline material, reminiscent of an aurora. He wore a navy blue cloak that had a rich purple hood lined with stark white fur. The underside displayed a shifting galaxy pattern. His under suit was the same midnight black as Samhain’s. He donned golden arm bands and a gold chest plate in style quite similar to Spirit’s. His hand were covered in snow white gauntlets that matched Wraith’s vambraces.

They all stood in awe, beholden to the almost divine figure.

The king sent them a gentle smile. It was warm and comforting yet sent a chill down their shoulders.

King Phantom began to fly down toward the center of the city, his entourage fell into step behind him. He hovered several hundred feet over Wayne tower and looked down at the city. He then spoke in a booming voice, his tone kind but commanding.

“ I humbly greet the Lady Gotham, her champions, and her citizens,” the shadows curled toward him appreciatively. “ I am grateful for your cooperation in our effort to rectify a great injustice. As High King of the Infinite Realms it is one of my duties to preside over the afterlife. To bring guidance, peace, and justice to the souls under my jurisdiction. Recently, it has been brought to my attention that there is a soul among you who has not only dodged death, but caused great strife to a vast number of souls who call for justice.”

On the roof of Wayne Enterprises Jason and Damian both stiffen, but remain firm in their gaze toward the king. The king looks out at the city and sparing them the quickest of glances. He continues onward.

“ The man formerly know as Jack Napier, now called The Joker. He has avoided death on many an occasion but his life should have ended moment he fell into a vat of chemicals. Since then he has sent hundreds more to the afterlife. He has long yet to pay his dues. That is why on the behalf of justice, restoring balance, and of my subjects I officially condemn Jack Napier.”

“Jack Napier, you have been allowed 24 hours turn yourself into our custody in order to be put on trial for your crimes in the Infinite Realms. Should you fail to turn youself in, we shall take that as an admission of guilt and acceptance to be punished for your actions. After the 24 hours are up, Samhain shall use his horn to summon The Hunt and we shall track you down.”

His gaze passed specifically over Red Hood, one of the Oracle’s drones, Nightwing, Signal, Red Robin, and Batman before he spoke his next words.

“All those souls who have been wronged by the Joker, both living and deceased, who wish to have a hand in their justice have been invited to join The Hunt if they so choose.”

The king lifted his hand, calling the swirling green clouds to his gather in his palm. The clouds swiftly rearranged themselves into a smokey timer hanging in the sky.

An impish smirk graced King Phantom’s face as he let out a malicious laugh and gave his final decree.

“ Your time begins now!”

#dc x dp #long post #danny fenton #danny phantom #ghost king danny #dani phantom #dan phantom #fright knight #jason todd #the joker #totally legal manhunt for the joker proclaimed by the king of the afterlife #The joker must pay his dues #Bruce fucking hates the joker he’s not gonna try to stop this #Strega’s dc x dp prompt

[suguru-getos]

just some over-affectionate yan!sato blabbering

yandere satoru hasn't really snapped at you, he just doesn't. always playful, always an embodiment. waking you up with peppers of kisses, making sure you have your favorite breakfast, making sure you relax around him. he even indulges in your silly little hobbies, all for the sake of making his baby comfortable. if you like painting, he is going to buy you all the colors there are, premium quality canvas boards and everything you'd ever need to bring your imaginations into reality. digital art? then you have an ipad with procreate and a pencil, anything and everything you need.

he doesn't say it but he is extremely observant, he even notices things like your skincare before you were kidnapped, and goes out of his way to upgrade it if needed. he can be a little pesky at times. what if his baby is using the wrong skin-care? probably going to fly you to the skin and beauty land 'korea' to have your skin checked, and then buy you the 'recommended' skincare.

same with aesthetics, you like wearing a certain type of fits, you have them littered in your closet room. he prefers changing styles and wouldn't mind upgrading/donating your wardrobe when you're also bored with the same ol' things.

your room is a mixture of everything you are, and trinkets of satoru in it. you are really not allowed to sleep in your room though. it's your space, just your happy corner. it doesn't have a bed. it has plush couches that are better than most beds, neon-light which speaks of your name and scented candles, perfect desks with the perfect desk mats. you just need to sleep with satoru.

he gets specifically testy when you really don't want to give him company at times. why? hasn't he done enough? most people would kill to be in your place. that's when you can see the cracks in his carefully calibrated persona he harbors for you.

he is usually very mellow, clingy and would be so playful you often forget how strong he is. "baby- but i want cuddles!" satoru whined, pulling you close to him while you squirmed when you weren't in the mood. satoru hasn't really pushed himself sexually, but he treats you like a pet in other stances. meaning - if not huggable why so cute? so you can't really escape from him during those times.

if you really, really try hard. his laughter, soft eyes, all of it drops. the usual high-pitched excitement too... "i will count to three. if you don't really come to me, there would be consequences." you haven't really checked on what the consequences are because that sets you straight instantly.

satoru HATES when you fear him, some part of him snaps so hard at that he ends up scaring you more. this happens when he's pissed about something and you flinch/wince at his tone. he hasn't done anything to make you scared... yet? though sometimes the way he comes home... reeking of dead curses, reeking of torment and torture. you automatically end up fearing him.

there was one time you took things too far, taking his leniency too far and going out without asking him. he hasn't locked the doors like a barbarian and you're making him question if he should... that's when he took you to one of his missions. shaking, quivering as you cling to him while the curse in front of you begged for death, for being exorcised while satoru made sure it healed and then continued his torture. blaming it on you as you sobbed, anxiety and palpitations all over you. "see, this is what i do... when you don't behave. you cause pain from me to others." he just wants you to know he is/can be fucked up.

would eventually feel extremely bad when you throw up from the gore and anxiety and finish the job, bringing you home and forcing you in his arms, crying with you at how bad it makes him feel to see you like this. how he would kill himself than making you cry, though a part of him is grateful that you wouldn't really go against him for a long, long while.

whenever any action done by him fucks you up, satoru takes responsibility of undoing it. even if sometimes he needs to make sure you stay with him, no matter the consequences... he would try his best to make up for it. always pestering, always kissing you, praising you for being so good to him even if you're not, behaving like an ideal boyfriend to the point where even you start suspecting if the problem is you.

he loves so sickeningly hard you end up deluded enough to consider yourself the 'toxic' one. :3

#gojo satoru #yandere gojo #yandere gojo satoru #yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo imagines #gojo hcs #jjk imagines #jjk hcs #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #gojo fluff

[dotster001]

Diasomnia boys with a s/o that calls them her prince charming or knight in shining armor?

(ah yes, our cutsie boys, getting the loving they deserve 😢)

CW: Fem Reader, and I have yet to fix Silver's picture. Will I ever fix it? Who's to say?

"Ah, Malleus, you're like my prince charming…"

Child of man, he has told you a million times he is a king. But how sweet that you think he is charming

He goes home to tell the funny story to Lilia. He is certain they will both have a laugh at your human mishap.

Until Lilia explains it is an endearment. It is a high compliment from one lover to another! He's so proud of his boy! Lilia is wiping a tear away as he hugs his son. He's going on and on about how he's such a proud dad, and all his children are perfect.

Malleus dips out in the middle of the speech to properly thank you for the compliment. Aka, scoop you up in his arms, and kiss you deeply.

He gets blushy, now, every time you call him that. He never really believed he'd find a happily ever after with someone, but it might just happen with you…

"Sebek! You are my knight in shining armor!"

"Of course I am, human! I have trained extensively in the art of knighthood!" Those are the words he wants to say.

"Blehsichkenchdjzn" -those are the words that come out of his mouth.

You think you broke him. He excuses himself for a moment, and as soon as the door is shut behind him you hear him scream.

He comes back in and pretends that didn't just happen. But his cheeks are awfully pink. 

Anytime you need him to shut up, or you just want to fluster him, you say it from now on. He hates the power you have over him, and he practices in the mirror, calling himself a knight in shining armor, alone, in his room.

(Silver has walked in on this three times, and may never recover)

"My prince charming…"

Well now he's awake. You'd been resting with your head near his heart, softly caressing his cheek, and pushing his hair out of his face. But that's not happening anymore.

"I'm not a prince, Y/N. I'm just a knight."

"Maybe you're not a prince of a country," you hum, "but you're my prince."

He's shy and blushy, but you grin that cute grin of yours, and he'd agree to anything you say about him.

"If I'm prince charming, does that make you my beautiful princess?"

How is he always so effortlessly smooth? He doesn't even mean to do it, he just is like that!

From here on out, whenever he is about to kiss you, he'll call you, "my beautiful princess"

"Lilia! My knight in shining armor!"

Duh. He's smug as hell. He hasn't trained as long as he has, and read as many romance novels, to just be an average lover!

He'll bow deeply, before wrapping an arm around your waist and giving you a roguish wink.

For the rest of the day, he'll feel mischievous. He'll dramatically help you as loudly as he can, because "it's a Knight's job to help a damsel in distress!"

"Fear not, fair maiden, I shall hold this door open for you!"

"My darling damsel, do not fret, this jar of pickles is no match for me!"

"I shall duel this wretch to the death for the injustice he has done upon you!" -Lilia, after Grim took a bite of your sandwich.

If you want him to stop you can…

Lmao, you're so dumb, nothing can stop Lilia 😂

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia #twst malleus #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek zigvolt #sebek x reader #twisted wonderland sebek #twst sebek #silver x reader #silver twisted wonderland #silver #twst silver #twst silver x reader #twst lilia #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia x reader #lilia vanrouge

[abyssruler]

TROPES

ft. jing yuan, dan heng, blade x gn!reader

JING YUAN - reincarnation

They say the Arbiter General of the Luofu only takes a lover every few decades, each one doomed to end in the tragedy that befalls that of a love between a short-life species and a long-life one. It’s widely speculated why the famed general chooses to continue taking short-life species for lovers, knowing the ending that would come about such a union. Jing Yuan cares not for idle gossip, save for the fact that people spread misinformation about him taking multiple lovers, but he can hardly tell everyone that he has only had one lover throughout his centuries of life. It’s just that you always happen to die far too soon for his liking. He fears sometimes, during those first few years after your death, that you’ll never come back, that one day he’ll wake up and realize that hundreds of years have passed without you. But you never fail to appear decades later with a smile on your lips and an apology on your tongue, soothing years’ worth of worries with a few measly words. Sorry, Yuan, I’ll be sure to live longer this time.

DAN HENG - soulmates

The Imbibitor Lunae was not only tasked to bear the responsibility of being the High Elder of the Vidyadhara, he was also destined for a love that spanned beyond lifetimes. Dan Heng knows of the story between the previous incarnations of you and the Imbibitor Lunae. Reincarnating at the same time, falling in love, and repeating it all over again in a never ending cycle that Dan Heng had been sure to end—that was, until he met you. Jing Yuan told him of your decision to forcefully reincarnate as well after Dan Feng’s crime, so it stands to reason that you shouldn’t feel anything for Dan Heng at all, what with this incarnation of yours having never met him in this lifetime. And yet, you keep looking at him with such softness, something like nostalgia in the tone of your voice as you spoke with him, that he can’t help but feel as though he, like his previous incarnations before him, can do nothing but fall into that never-ending cycle of love and being loved.

BLADE/YINGXING - time travel

Yingxing thinks you’re strange. Not in a bad way, of course, only that your mannerisms and way of conduct when it comes to him and his companions is odd. He’s caught you almost calling Dan Feng the wrong name, Dan He-something. You keep demanding Jing Yuan to spar with you for what you dubbed was a ‘rematch’, though Yingxing has no recollection of any instances of you and Jing Yuan fighting before. But it all pales in comparison to the way you act with him. You’re overly familiar, smiling and talking to him as though you’ve known him for years instead of a single month after he discovered you wounded on an alley with a broken blade. He still remembers the look of relief on your face when he crouched in front of you in concern. Blade, Kafka’s gonna kill me, this is the fiftieth sword I broke this month, was all you said before passing out. Despite the oddity of your first meeting, he found himself getting close to you, drawn in by your smile and your laugh and the tender way you looked at him. He imagined spending what remained of his life with you, but you disappeared a day before he was supposed to confess his feelings. It isn’t until many years later, when Elio is introducing the newest member of the Stellaron Hunters, that Blade connects the dots amidst his fractured memory. And it isn’t until another few years that you confirm his suspicions. Blade, you won’t believe what I just went through—or rather, when!

#blade’s got too long hrng it’s because it deserves a fic of its own hehe #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #jing yuan x reader #dan heng x reader #imbibitor lunae x reader #blade x reader #yingxing x reader #gn reader

[pseudowho]

Red

Nanami Kento, the infamous Curse User, is finally captured and sentenced to death after years on the run. The reader feels her grasp on morality quickly unravel, when her ex-boyfriend breaks down any inhibitions she thought she still had.

Warnings: 18+, smut, MDNI, Bad!Nanami, really a reprehensible man, rough sex, bondage, forced orgasm, multiple sessions, coercion, dubcon, tw: gaslighting, tw: abuse, reader is obsessed and hopelessly in love, and Nanami Kento takes full advantage of that.

*I absolutely do not endorse a relationship like this, and I must insist that anyone who reads this sees it as the red flag it is...ANYWAY...*

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You felt sick to your stomach.

"They caught him. Did you hear?"

You stumbled through the rain, barely composed, your heart in your mouth. Anxious desperation clawed up your spine, on your way to get the fix that you had been withdrawing from for so long.

"Yeah, Gojo got him, obviously. No, no, he's alive, for now."

Mud spattered up the backs of your legs, tripping through puddles, passing under rain-hush willows, Torii gates, and so many graves filled by his hand. His hands that you knew. His hands that knew you, so intimately, a body and soul so untouched by anyone else ever since and ever again.

"Nanami Kento. The Nanami Kento...scheduled for execution. Finally."

You reached corridors, a caretaker shouting in indignation as you tracked mud all over his freshly polished floorboards. You gained speed, running, ready for his face his hands his smell his eyes his body his heart and yours that was always his forever his still his--

"You shouldn't go in there." Your hand retracted so briefly over the handle of the door to the execution chambers. Feeling cold drip down your spine, not knowing if it was rainwater, sweat, or Gojo's voice behind you, you shivered. You felt him approach. A long hand on your shoulder; protective, apologetic, grieving.

"I...I'm sorry. I didn't want it to be this way. But you shouldn't go down there. He's...bad for you." You sniffed, straightening yourself, steeling against him. Gojo was so insignificant to you in this moment. "Are you keeping watch? Is there anyone else?" Gojo sighed, knowing better than to argue with you, feeling dread creep through him regardless. He leaned back on the wall, hands in his pockets, eyes downcast. You heard your own heartbeat, amplified hummingbird's wings. You heard the rain, cleansing on the leaves, but weighing you down with your sin. You felt the thread on your finger, trapped beneath that door and running down the stairs.

"No. No, it's just me. I...understand. Whatever you want to do, I...I understand." You felt the ghosts in this corridor. You felt the footsteps long since gone. You felt the shadows of the other half of Gojo's soul. Ah, yes, you thought, raindrops running down your cheeks, you would understand, of course.

"There will be a gap in the guard. At midnight. Just five minutes. Ten, if you're lucky." Gojo turned, facing down the corridor. You could smell the regret. The weight of his own failures haunted him. He sensed your fingers grip the handle, squeezing down, taking your life into your own hands.

He would give you this, what he had prevented you from taking five years ago. He would not see another whole broken into halves. He would not regret, for a moment now or for years to come. Behind him, your other hand, cold and damp, reached out and squeezed Gojo's. He felt the farewell upon your skin. "Thank you, Satoru. I love you." "I love you, too. Be good." You wracked with need, trembling down those spiraled steps. They took you so deeply underground, that you could feel the earthen chill of ages past upon your skin, and you welcomed the death and rebirth, shedding the life you had left at the surface.

You knew Nanami Kento would, inevitably, be your downfall. And yet...you had shared a room with death so many times, now, that you would not fear him reaching for your hand. You paused near the bottom of the stairs, soaked in the soft orange glow of ten thousand illuminated paper charms. You felt him. He beat you to it. "I can smell you." Your knees almost buckled; that voice. It ran through you, spitting hot oil in cold blood. You flurried down the rest of the steps with numb feet, rounding the corner. The breath rushed out of you, into him, and he smiled at you, so much wider than he used to, all canines and white.

Nanami Kento was bound to a small chair, barely enough to hold the sheer width of him. In this short (long too long so long) five years, he had grown from a man, to a beast, his shoulders hulking and mountainous, scars littered across his forearms and collarbones.

His white shirt was bloodstained-- mostly someone else's, you assumed, but some from Kento himself. Kento was scuffed, bruised, red at the corner of his lip. His parting remained, disheveled from his capture. His harness, the brown leather soft and aged, strained against his chest and shoulders. His blunt blade rested, leant against the wall in a dingy corner of the room.

The only thing holding back what you knew would be Kento's enormous, overwhelming power, were the ropes that restrained him. You fingered at the blade of the Cursed tool in your pocket. He was...ethereally beautiful. You felt the last vestiges of yourself pass to him, blissfully unaware he would take so much more from you yet. His smile grew, eyes full of searingly cold ice, sneering at you as tears built in your eyes.

"You're crying for me?" He cooed, soft and mocking, "Why is that? You made your choice, all those years ago." "You were the one who left." "You were the one who stayed," he growled, lurching forwards against his bonds, chest heaving and straining, snarling. Expecting you to step backwards, instead, he felt the sick satisfaction of you stepping closer instead-- drawn in by his gravity. "You didn't give me a choice, Kento," you begged, shameless, "You didn't come for me. I couldn't find you." Kento huffed, scoffing, twisting against his restraints. "Fuck off," he scorned, spitting a wad of blood to the floor, "I came for you. The night I found you in Gojo's bed, of all people." You frowned, remembering the night Kento snapped and executed two dozen colleagues in his offices, years after leaving Jujutsu High. Remembering the news reaching you third-hand, through whispers in the corridors, as you had headed to Jujutsu High to see if anyone had heard from him. Remembering Gojo's grim confirmation, how you had collapsed in his arms, carved in two. Remembering how he had taken you home with him, tucked you into his bed, where you slept fitfully, alcohol-soaked to numb the nightmares. Your stomach filled with ice water. "You were-- you were there?" You choked, tears spilling over, "At Gojo's? You were there?" "Tell me," Kento commanded, his lip curled, "how many hours it was, after you heard? How many hours before you let Gojo Satoru fuck you like some desperate little whore? How many hours it was before I found you in his bed." You shook your head, brutally injured by his venom, punctuating him with sobs and denial as his voice rose.

"Three? Four? So devastated, it took another man fucking his seed into you before you could get over the loss of your lover? And you have the fucking audacity to come in here and cry over me?" Kento strained forwards, teeth bared as he sniffed deeply, breathing out with a satisfied smirk, a laugh, deep and smoky. "Can't smell him on you now, though," he mocked, filthy and merciless, "I thought he liked pathetic little scraps like you, but I suppose one fuck was enough to tell him you belonged to someone else, just as much as he did."

Kento already knew, of course, that Satoru would not have taken you even once. Kento felt his cock swelling against his thigh with your anguished begging. "Is that what he told you? To make you leave?" Your head swam with the revelation that Kento had come back for you, the rage that Satoru had lied and sent Kento away. You shook your head, dropping to your knees before him; desperate for his approval, full of dreadful fear of rejection.

"Nobody else," you pressed, crawling forwards and squeezing his thighs with cold little hands as he scoffed again, looking away, "ever. Kento. Ever, ever, for years. There won't ever be--" Kento suppressed his smirk, reeling you in after you bit so willingly. He leaned down to you, his cock twitching at the memory of the last time you knelt between his legs, looking up at him with wide wet eyes. He allowed his breath to ghost over your neck, seeing your skin prickle. He softened his face, nectar and promise in his eyes. "...you and Gojo...you didn't...?" His voice was soft, gentle, hopeful. Your head shot up, fingers digging deeper into his thighs as your eyes brimmed over again, thrilled by his belief, his trust in you. His lips were so close to yours, that you felt his hot ashen breath upon your tongue, dragon's fire, those whiskey-soaked eyes flicking across your face. God, if I'd known it would be this easy, Kento thought, maliciously possessive, I'd have let you find me years ago. His cock twitched at the feel of your hands clawing his thighs. He imagined fucking you down into the bed while you clawed at him, struggling, gasping and crying.

"Never," you promised, chasing his face with yours, while Kento withdrew just enough to maintain a teasing closeness, "he lied. He lied to you." Kento's cock twitched again, thirsty for your desperation.

Kento smiled again, that beautiful, cloud-parting smile, and you preened into him. He hummed, leaning forwards so briefly to brush his nose against yours. Your breath left you in a shudder as his voice passed over your lips;

"That's good...good girl. I couldn't bear to think of anyone else's hands on my beautiful girlfriend."

You sunk into his sudden warmth, your hands stroking up his thighs, his hips, up his ribs and shoulders. He allowed you to embrace him like this, for just a moment. Prickling with fear, you felt the frost form over him once more. Kento sneered again.

"...she's gone though, I think. Rotting here, festering with the dregs of Jujutsu Society. Willing to live and die a pawn. Scum. Less than scum."

Kento sighed, withdrawing from you fully, his back against the chair, turning his head as you tried to cup his jaw in your hands. He shook you off, face twisted with disgust. He was thrilled to watch a part of you shrivel and recoil, before reaching out harder, begging in fractured whispers, clawing for dry land.

"You had your chance. You're too wet for my life. You couldn't do what I do, live how I live. You couldn't lie, cheat, extort, torture, murder. You're too soft." Kento's lip curled in disgust as you pressed yourself between his legs, begging, beseeching, "To think of all the cum I wasted by fucking it into you." He hoped you couldn't feel him, hard and throbbing against your belly.

"--anything you want-- I'll do anything you want-- please--"

"Please what?" Kento shot, shaking the ropes around him with thick, scarred arms, "I'll be dead before dawn. And I want some peace and quiet. You're nothing to me now."

A part of you died, shattered by his rejection. Clapping a hand over your mouth, your shivers threatening vomit, you sat back on the floor, pressing your face into your knees, sobbing and abandoned for a second time.

"It's a shame," Kento scorned, tutting, "we were beautiful, once. But I'd rather die than have you be my only fucking option."

Kento felt you break, and it was delicious.

You shook within, panicking at his imminent second abandonment...but you were more determined than ever to prove yourself to him. You would sell your soul. You would sell the lives of your fellow sorcerers. You would sell your dignity, your self-respect, your whole being. Having Kento in any form, even this cold-hearted killer, was better than the agony of his death, where you would surely die with him.

From your pocket, hands shaking, you withdrew a blade; a special grade cursed weapon, stolen, illicit. You reached around Kento, breathing deeply of the sweat, sandalwood and copper tang on his skin. You pressed the blade into the hands bound behind his chair. You turned, hesitated...and walked away.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

You could not bear to return to your apartment. You had staggered past Gojo, reeling from Kento's biting rebuttal. You had wiled away the evening in some backwater ditch of a bar, sinking into spirits and self-loathing.

You waited to be found...by him, or by your colleagues, for execution as an accomplice to his escape. You didn't care anymore. You would die at his hands, or theirs, and cling onto that final shivering bliss of his bound body against yours. Even as a good man, he had always possessed you, more than you possessed yourself.

Walking to your door just after midnight, fumbling with the keys, you let yourself in, to spend a final night alone before your inevitable execution.

The alcohol numbed your senses, the darkness close around you. You did not feel his approach, this killer in the shadows.

All at once, you felt an enormous hand clasp over your mouth, and another pinning your wrists behind your back, tugging you backwards against a body, such an immovable chilly presence. A whisper, a tongue grazing against the side of your throat.

"I want you screaming...but not yet." You arched back into Kento's body, seeking a warmth he didn't have any more. The man you knew was long-since dead.

You felt his hand loosen, drifting slowly from your mouth, to your throat, squeezing just tightly enough to make your breath hitch, examining the length of your throat from the outside with a hum. You smelled the cigarettes and whiskey on his breath.

"I'm so proud of you," Kento purred, stepping you slowly through your apartment, pushing you towards your bedroom, "such a good girl...I knew you'd pass the test." Your heart swelled with his praise, but a lingering doubt soured the edges of your tongue.

"--how did you-- s'too early, Kento-- the guard--"

"Guard?" Kento laughed, booming with genuine mirth, "Some scrap of a boy in a beanie? Please. They'll find what's left of him in the morning."

"Oh--Ino--" you felt tears prickle on your lash line, your breath leaving you with a gasp as Kento tossed you face down on your bed. You tried to turn back to look at him, but felt his hand grip the back of your neck, shoving you roughly into the sheets. You shivered, fingers clenching as you heard the telltale clink of his belt undoing, the soft shhhk-shhhk-shhhk of Kento unthreading it from his waist.

"Oh, Ino!" Kento mocked, "Shut the fuck up, before I make you shut up," his voice pitched and ruthless. His face twisted as you trembled, noting smears of blood left by his hands on your wrists. You smelled the copper tang over his sweat and stale cologne. You knew you would never reject him, already wet with the promise of him coming back for you.

Kento softened momentarily, knowing he would struggle to fit inside you if you were scared and trembling. The faintest ghost of him wanted to pull you into his arms. The ice over his old soul knew he'd break if it cracked.

Kento crawled over you, his black trousers unzipped, cock straining against the tight fabric of his boxers. He clasped your hands, binding them with his tie to the head of the bed. You were so ready for him to take back what was his, that you didn't hear his next words, rumbling and gravelly on the back of your neck.".

"Keep still, and do as you're told. I'm sure you remember the old safe word...if I care to listen."

You felt your skirt forced up to bunch around your waist, heard a fabric rrriiip of your tights and underwear being shredded away from your core. Kento breathed heavily as he knelt above you, hooking his cock and heavy balls out, stroking himself with one thick hand as his fingers jabbed between your legs, sinking between your folds with little to no regard for your pleasure.

You jolted, squeaking against the sudden intrusion. Kento letting out another rich, smoky laugh as he sunk two thick fingers into your entrance.

"...ahhh, lovely. Can you warm my fingers up for me?" Kento laughed again, drawing out into a stilted growl as he jerked his cock eagerly to your tight wet walls around his digits. You panted into the sheets, Kento releasing his cock you squeeze your arse as he fucked you with his fingers, leaving bruising fingerprints before slapping the skin harshly, groaning as your fat jiggled, flushing with the abuse.

"-- better than some common whore...shit. Such a good girl...getting me out of there. Maybe I'll keep you around...just to fuck, my sweet little cocksleeve. Or are you better than that?"

"--anything, I'll be anything you want-- Kento-- please please take me with you please--" Pleasure burned in your belly as you heard the wet slaps of his hand, masturbating himself again to the sight of his fingers moulding you to the shape of him.

You filled with a burning need to be what he wanted you to be, so exhausted by life, so bitter and ready for someone else to take control. Kento did so, gladly, withdrawing his fingers to your disappointed groan. He slapped your backside again in punishment, once, twice, three times until you learned your lesson, biting your lip against your cries.

"You'll come on my cock, or not at all," he snapped at you, impatient, with his pre-cum dripping down your folds as his cock grazed at the entrance to your prone, bound body. He rammed his fingers into your mouth, forcing you to lick him clean, low voice husky with need at the feeling of your tongue swiping over him.

Pressing one hand down on the back of your neck, before raising it to yank sharply on your hair, Kento fucked into you without warning, pressing hard, to bottom out immediately. Your scream was choked, your neck hyperextended back at the insistent pull of your hair. Your body ached and strained against his use of you, and you revelled in it, in too deep to care about how wrong it was. You stung with the size of him, always big, and so much bigger without preparation.

"--haaaah fuck-- good girl...fuck you through it-- fuck you through it-- scream all you like-- been waiting for this for so long--" Kento crushed your body flush under his, so heavy that he forced the air out of you, making you lightheaded against the raw pleasure of his cock pounding into you without mercy, simply chasing his own orgasm.

Kento's skin electrified with the sinful joy of stealing pleasure from you, ripping his shirt and harness off over his head with a fractured growl. He gripped your bound hands, slipping a hand under you to squeeze your throat, his hips slapping into you with agonising bliss. He cursed and spat against the pleasure, demeaning you and praising you in equal measure.

Breathing hard and fast, Kento saw a bead of his sweat fall to the back of your neck, and leaned down to bite you there, hard, mounting you like an animal as he fucked you harder, faster. Your clit throbbed, untouched, but you lost yourself in the deep primal ecstasy coiling in your belly. You felt the telltale twitches of his thighs and abs against your legs and back, knowing from his frantic jagged moans that Kento was about to cum, before remembering--

"Ken--Kento--oooh--ooh, Ken," you cried, whimpering as his cock bullied against your cervix, "...'m not-- not on-- pull out Ken--"

Kento jerked and groaned, grinning that wide sharp-canined grin again, his laugh leaving him in ragged breaths as his balls drew up close, ready to spill; "--fuck...pull-out? Not a--haaah-- fucking chance, without the safe word, sweetheart." Kento fucked you faster, challenging you as your cock-addled brain clasped at straws, trying desperately to remember, fuck what was it--

Kento gasped, his orgasm starting to wash over him, "Too late," he jeered, and came with a broken hushed roar, rutting his cock inside you so his seed would spurt, coating you, thick and sticky, all over your deepest walls. Kento didn't give a shit that you hadn't come-- and neither did you, trembling and mewling as his length jerked thick heavy ropes inside you.

As Kento pulled out, breathing hard, pumping his length a few more times to spill his last drops of seed across your back, he huffed out a humourless laugh, running his hand back through his hair; "'Pull out'...you'll take what I give you, and be grateful." Kento scooped up some seed, dripping from your cunt, shoving it roughly back inside you.

"What fucking use are you," he spat, ramming his fingers in you until you sobbed, squirming around him, "if you can't even keep my cum inside you? Pathetic." Your breath hitched, tears spilling over at his brutal mockery. Seeing your tears, hearing the lump in your throat, Kento cooed at you, clasping your jaw in one thick hand.

"Oh darling...don't be sad...just be better." He slapped at your cheek a few times, too stinging to be tender, pressing a hot wet kiss just beneath your eye. He stood up, stretching, padding over towards the door.

"I need a drink." Kento mused aloud. You pulled yourself up the bed, still tightly bound, clamping your legs together to keep his cum inside and win his approval. You almost wept with the bitter ache in your shoulders and arms, how your pussy stung, how worthless he thought you were. You heard the clink of bottles and glass in the kitchen.

Kento returned, sitting in the chair at the end of your bed, naked, legs crossed, as he poured himself a full glass of whiskey. You could not see him, your face pressed into the pillow. You couldn't see the cold, impassive gaze upon your bound, shivering form. You couldn't see the way he idly played with his cock, slowly stroking life back into it as his cum glistened on your folds.

"Let's play a game," Kento proposed finally, as sleep began to creep across you, "and if you win, I'll take you with me. If you lose, I'll leave you here for the dogs." Kento took a long drink, draining his glass with a satisfied hum, his cock now half-erect against his thigh.

Your determination peaked again, so certain you could make things right, and make Kento love you like he used to. You were a void, yearning to be filled.

"Yes, I-- I can do it-- anything," you pressed, voice strong and bold now, eager to shed the shell he had left you in. Kento refilled his glass, almost to the brim, grinning wolfishly. He reached into your bedside drawer, tipping his head and raising his eyebrows at you with a smirk, withdrawing a vibrator, and a dildo.

"So confident," Kento teased, a shadow of the way he used to play with you when he was softer, more restrained. He couldn't deny the flicker of joy he had felt at the old you, briefly rearing her head.

Kento emptied his hands for long enough to flip you to your back, binding your arms to the bed again, ripping your shirt and bra open at the middle, exposing your breasts and belly. Kento grabbed your nipple roughly, yanking it until you squealed, slapping it hard with a gravelly chuckle.

"Don't spill my drink." Kento ordered, picking his glass up, placing it on your chest, between your breasts. You faltered, stock still, staring up at him, uncertain.

"...I-- what?" Kento's slim brown eyes burned down at you, teasing the dildo against your sloppy cunt, before ramming it into you. You instinctively moved to squirm away with a cry, understanding almost a moment too late, the meniscus of the whiskey kissing the lip of the glass. You stilled completely, shuddering at the cold rubber filling your cunt to the belly, squelching with Kento's cum.

Kento hissed between his teeth, face twisted with nasty glee. He looked so animated, so alive with this hedonistic torture, such a far cry from who he once was.

"Close," he taunted, leaning down to brush his lips over yours, pulling away as you moved to kiss him, satisfied to hear you swear under your breath as he denied you. Kento flipped the wand vibrator in his hand deftly, switching it on and clicking to max out the vibration.

"Don't...spill my drink." Kento repeated slowly, pressing the brutally vibrating wand directly against your clit.

You saw stars, your body moving to convulse reflexively, and you gritted your teeth, eyes fixed on the wobbling glass on your sternum. Your legs shook, the pleasure too harsh to be enjoyable, feeling yourself being unwillingly dragged towards a bone-wracking orgasm.

"Kento please-- please stop please please-- I can't do it I can't keep still I can't--" You babbled at Kento, tears streaming, certain he may not acknowledge your safe word even if you did squeeze it out. Only your desperation to win him back stopped you from even trying.

"Then die here." Kento shrugged, stroking himself again as he pressed the wand harder against your clit, thrilled to hear you scream in anguish. Your orgasm hit you with stunning force, harsh wracks of pleasure pounding through you as your body remained rigid. Still, the whiskey did not spill.

Your teeth gritted around your cries, and you met Kento's eyes with a ferocity that used to make him hard in seconds. His cock twitched in his hand in memory, pre-cum dripping down to wet his fingers. Baring his teeth in a snarl now, Kento knelt between your legs, grabbing the dildo and fucking it into you with harsh strokes, pressing harder with the punishing vibrations of the wand.

Your body was on fire, every part of you burning, from bruised bound wrists, to your feet, crackling with electric overstimulation. You cursed, spitting out tearful bile at Kento.

"--Kento-- stop it-- you fucking monster-- I hate you-- you fucking left me and I hate you so just stop it--"

Kento grinned, growling out as he continued his messy overstimulation of you; "There! There she is! That's my girl...make me proud!...shit, you're a mess. Don't spill it now." As another orgasm hit you, a primal hideous landslide, you screamed with your head thrown back, woefully unable to dissipate the pleasure through movement.

Suddenly full of unbridled rage, the years of grief and abandonment pouring out of you, you snapped, certain you wanted to hurt him as he had hurt you.

The glinting madness in Kento's eyes, the way his hand worked his rigid cock harder as he released his grasp on the dildo, now ramming it back into you with his knee...he wanted this. He wanted you pouring with spite. With rage. He wanted the venom and the hatred. He wanted the raw unbridled loyalty that you promised him through this humid obsession.

"--let me go-- KENTO. I'm warning you--"

Kento laughed, rich and earthy, as he gripped you by the throat, pinning you to the bed. Your body was exhausted, groaning, all bone-deep and guttural aches. By the time your third orgasm hit, you were floppy, the whiskey glass tilting on you just too sharply--

--before being snatched up by Kento, who drained it in one thirsty gulp. Pulling the sex toys out of you and tossing them aside, Kento moved to line his cock up with your entrance. Full of tearful anger, you kicked, hard, fighting back against him as he laughed, encouraging you-- "Fight me-- come on girl, COME ON--"

Kicking out again, spitting acid at Kento, berating him for leaving you, berating him for the twisted hatred you had endured alone for the miserable job you did, you cried, all bitter spite and loneliness. Kento caught your legs, forcing them open, pressing himself between them. He jabbed his cock between your folds as you squirmed, struggling up the bed, until Kento folded over you, grasping you by the back of the neck, and pulling you up for a searing kiss-- the first time you had tasted him in years.

Kento took advantage of your gasp, and invaded you with his tongue and cock, fucking sloppily between your legs, cursing into your mouth, until he met your entrance, slamming himself in to the hilt. Kento gripped you by the hips, thrusting into you while he slammed your pussy against him. He immediately set a feral pace, intent on claiming the last scraps of you, if he couldn't get you out of Jujutsu society alive. "--not gonna-- haaah-- let you die here-- fuck, good girl, good fucking girl, take it-- FIGHT ME--"

Every time you tried to buck and kick, and throw him out of you, Kento cupped your jaw, kissing you just like he used to, disarming you as you bit into his forearm planted beside your cheek. Kento kept up his punishing pace, reaching up to release the belt as he groaned into your throat, biting the delicate skin there. The briefest flicker of warmth passed over him, to feel your hands clutch at his chest, still trying weakly to push him off you. Kento reveled in your fight, your incessant struggling beneath him making his need to cum, to fill you again and make you his, urgent. You felt this in him, in his trembling arms and sloppy thrusts, all at once splitting you in two and completing you. Relenting, you allowed him to claim your mouth again, lips smooth and supple against yours, whiskey on his breath. Kento couldn't last any longer, and didn't want to; he finished with a broken rumble, all groans and whispered curses in your hair. Crushing you to the bed beneath his hulking body, you whimpered to feel his cock twitch and bound inside you, filling you again with sweet ache and seed. Kento rested on you, ignoring your gasping little breaths as you saw stars, buried beneath him. Swallowing away the lump in your throat, your mind swam with your fates; killed in battle or executed or on the run or hiding with filthy curse users or begging the higher-ups for mercy but all alone every one of them alone-- "...come with me." You blinked. Kento's back still heaved with exertion, his face buried in your neck. You felt a twinge, a prickle down your spine-- Cursed energy, approaching from a distance. "You have to decide...there's no time. I lie. I steal, and extort. I blackmail. I murder. I live in...in absolute luxury. You will never want for anything, while you're with me-- but you must be with me." You smiled. Another door had opened. Kento was the easiest decision you ever made.

#Curse Nanami #Rednami by pseudowho #Rednami #jjk #kento nanami #jjk nanami #kento nanami x you #kento nanami x reader #nanami fluff #nanami kento #nanami kento smut #kento nanami x y/n #nanami headcanons #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu kaisen nanami #kento nanami smut #nanami #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami x y/n #nanami kento fluff #nanami x you #nanami kento angst #nanami angst

[chococolte]

Your sagau zhongli is my fave! Devotion is soooo good he's so good!! If he were offered a reward, what would he ask for? He definitely deserves good things for being such a dedicated worshipper

word count. 1.6k

୨୧ — ꒰ cw. yandere, unhealthy relationships, possessive & obsessive thoughts/behaviors, sagau + cult au shit, religious themes, g/n reader.

୨୧ — ꒰ a/n. hi guys......... sorry i took so long to write this, and im so happy you like my characterization of him!!!! it means so much to me!!!

Your praise.

Zhongli has rarely ever wanted. 

When he was young, still arrogant and born of war, Zhongli didn't want— he took. He had no need of envy or desire. What he could not have, he would get in time. Immortality comes with an infinite patience. 

If he was still that god, flippant and self-important, maybe he would demand some sort of compensation. Some sort of recompense for past agony.

For as long as Zhongli's lived, he has never wanted; not in the way a mortal yearns for their lover, or the way a dog longs for its owner until it whines. Never in any way that mattered, never before he met you.

Zhongli has had eons to become used to the loneliness that so often encompasses him. And now, knowing that you breathe the same air as him, he's become rather acquainted with the ever consuming desire to nestle close to you, like ink caressing every pore of canvas. 

His desire runs through him— barking and loud, rapid and frantic— but when faced with you, a whisper, whimpering in the dark crevices of his ribs. At times, he comes close to asking you to hold him, but decorum and propriety keep him in place, tight and tense.

Liyue was built knowing your gaze followed him. Its foundations set, earth molded, and its rivers bent, hoping they would be fit to your liking. His every breath spent chasing after your favor, desiring to be remade in your image, to be exactly what you want him to be. Afraid that, when finally met with you, you will not like what you see.

Zhongli has rarely ever wanted, and rarer still, has he ever feared.

It's a mortal's fear. The fear of their lord displeased with their harvest. A boyish fear, made up of desperation and the fear of disapproval; one he shouldn't feel, one he should feel no familiarity with. One he suspects many have felt when within his own presence.

When you ask him what he would like in return for all of his efforts— a reward, you say— Zhongli feels his breath seized from him.

Zhongli lived much of his early life against you. At every opportunity, he rebelled at what he thought was a cruel god. Imperious and charged with Guizhong’s death, he would have demanded answers. 

For him to have lived while those he cared for perished without a moment's repose, for him to have survived every moment of cruel war when each breath was like a whip against his lungs— he deserved to know, if you were as real as Guizhong so staunchly believed, why he had lived in her place.

Yet, despite centuries of tempered rage, Zhongli has become content to live as nothing more than your servant. 

He tells you he wants for nothing. That all he desires now is the simplicity of being beside you; the escape of your laughter, where there's no need to concern himself with anything other than you. He tells you he only wishes to know how to take care of you better, how to align himself with your tastes and desires.

"I insist," you say, and Zhongli realizes it's a command. His mouth turns dry, and every word settles on his tongue like heavy weights, dead and still.

You stare, and his breath hitches, his heart a swell in his chest. Zhongli thinks of every answer, how your reaction to any could either breathe life into him, or leave him broken. How, for a moment, he amuses himself with the idea of asking for your touch— the cusp of your palm on his cheek, your fingers against his spine; how he could ask, and how you might favor him enough to do so. 

He then thinks of asking you for reassurance. For affirmation of forgiveness for the actions in his youth. To finally have the certainty that he hasn’t failed you, and maybe, the confirmation that you may care for him.

“Forgive me for my impropriety, Your Grace,” Zhongli begins, voice light and breathy. His hand rests on his chest, fighting the urge to dig into his skin, hoping to calm the pounding of his heart. “But… if I may, I was wondering if I had done right by you?”

You sit inertly in silence for a moment, and Zhongli wonders if it’s on purpose, some sort of punishment for daring to ask such a thing. You had no reason to reward him, and he had been blessed enough to hold your attention for longer than a moment. He had no right to ask for your thoughts, not so directly.

He thought he knew that. It was why he followed you, why he made sure your every request was completed to the highest standard. If you mentioned the taste of your tea being too bitter, or sweet, or that you’d rather he prepare something else for you entirely, he would rush to follow your word. Even if he had been the one to brew it, even if it was him who cultivated the leaves, even if he thought it would be to your liking.

All he needed was to be helpful. All he needed was you. Within you, was his salvation— within you, was love itself. Without you, the once great Lord of Geo was but a fragmented elemental wisp of energy, only ever calling your name.

A spike of adrenaline rushes through him, fear and anxiety denying any sense of hope. All he hears is the solitary sound of his heart in his ears. 

“You have only ever done good by me.”

Zhongli’s heart lurches, heat rippling through his body. You say it like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and his mind feels dizzy at the implication. The ground sways, and his feet feel light. 

“You deserve more than that, I think.” You step forward, and Zhongli is so lost within his own thoughts, he takes no notice of your sudden increase in proximity— but his breath still quickens, and red still coats the apples of his cheeks. 

“Kneel,” you whisper, and though you say it so softly, it's as though the sky had been torn asunder with the speed he responds. Zhongli’s mind still feels far away, but he hears your orders as if spoken directly into his ear.

He drops to his knees, no care for whether he does so elegantly enough. All he can focus on is the weight of your gaze, and the way he's the only thing under it.

“Do you want me to praise you?” You trace his jawline with your finger, still speaking in a soft, unhurried tone. “Do you want me to tell you how much of a good boy you are?”

Zhongli inhales sharply, fighting every thought that screams at him to eagerly lean into your hand. He stares up at you, russet lashes fluttering and amber eyes swallowed by adoration and worship. 

“Yes, Your Grace,” he whispers hoarsely. 

Your thumb swipes over his lower lip, and a whine rises to the back of his throat. 

“My good boy.” Zhongli’s entire body shudders, his chest heaving. A shaky breath escapes him. “You've been waiting to hear that for so long, haven't you?”

He whimpers, then nods in a way he hopes doesn’t come across as overeager— quickly bereft of any sense of propriety, or care for whether or not he’s making a fool of himself. All he can concern himself with is how close you are, how easily your scent renders him still, how quickly he borders on senseless. 

You smile at that, and he bites his tongue to stop himself from whimpering. 

“Do you want me to tell you how grateful I am?” Your fingers move across his neck, brushing against his Adam’s Apple, watching it bob as he gulps, trying to keep himself steady and not fall against you. “How you're my favorite?”

An ugly sound rips from Zhongli’s throat, and it's one he's instantly ashamed of. Every part of him feels bare in front of you, laid out messy and without decorum. The mask he’s worn for eons steadily breaks, and every one of his veins and bones scream out for your warmth. 

The Lord of Geo wouldn’t have ever allowed himself to be so vulnerable. He never would have amused himself with the thought of pleading for anything, or kneeling and falling apart because he was treated softly— least of all, of being so desperate to know that you love him; that you favor him. 

Zhongli, now without his Gnosis, is as mortal as the men he used to lord over. And perhaps it’s his newfound mortality that moves him to lean into your hand, frantically trying to meld your fingers against his skin until his flesh is like clay inlaid with your fingertips; hoping that you’ll rebuild him until he fits your desires, and tell him again that he’s proven to have done good by you. 

Every thought is a prayer, another hymn, another psalm.

“Am I? Your favorite?” 

His voice trembles, and breathes into a soft whisper. Zhongli doesn’t mean to sound so desperate— he doesn’t mean to be so greedy— but his soul has never felt so full before. His mind is so mired by your touch and voice that he doesn’t realize his lack of formality, or how he might come across as arrogant. 

He wants only to think of you, and so he does. Nothing else matters.

“Yes.” You chuckle, and his heart speeds up at the sound, fervent. “Why would I want anyone else?”

Zhongli whines, and faintly, through the blur of fanaticism and worship, thinks that no matter what you asked of him, he would do it without hesitation. 

#[🦇] — my writing #genshin impact #yandere genshin #genshin x reader #sagau #cult au #sagau zhongli #yandere zhongli #cult au zhongli #yandere zhongli x reader #yandere male #yandere male x reader #male yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere #self aware genshin au #self aware genshin #gender neutral reader

[stevie-petey]

episode one: suzie, do you copy?

Steve sighs. “Those kids are manipulating your power over me to get what they want.” “You call it manipulation, I call it bonding.”  Another sigh escapes Steve. “You’re going to be the death of me.” “And yet you stay.” You tease. “And yet I stay.”

Summary: you help nancy sneak through jonathans window, the party uses you for your "in" with steve, and you sorta become the reason dustin almost blinds lucas. meanwhile, steve tries, and fails, to make you his girlfriend (this will happen all summer), but have no fear ! dustin intercepts a russian code and makes everything even harder for everyone. what a sweet brother <3

Rating: general, swearing

Warnings: allusions to violence, swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n

Words: 9.6k

Before you swing in: shes here !!! season 3 of come home <333 im so excited for yall to read what i have planned, and thank you so much for being so patient as i planned the season out and started the chapters :) season 3 is pure chaos and i hope yall love what ive created, im proud of the changes i made <3333 we get some more insight into bug this season, which i also hope yall love !

-

June 27th, 1985.

A summer breeze gently creeps into Jonathan’s room, bringing the scent of dandelions and your childhood with it. It’s early evening and Jonathan hums to himself quietly, laying in his bed as he lazily skims through a comic he stole from you last week. You’re next to him as you carefully cut pieces of construction paper to glue onto the posterboard. Dustin comes home from camp in a few days and you want his welcome home banner to be perfect.

In the other room you hear the floorboards creak, followed by the sound of Joyce and Will laughing at whatever movie they’ve put on in the living room. Hearing their laughs makes you smile; it’s been so long since you’ve heard them laugh.

The tune that Jonathan hums now becomes a familiar one, and absent mindedly you begin to hum along with him. The cool summer night’s air encases the two of you, as if it senses that you want to freeze this moment forever. You’re in the Byers home, pressed against Jonathan’s side as you hum together an old song from when you were both fourteen and thought you had the world all figured out,

It’s nice, having this moment all to yourself with him. Moments alone with him have become few and far between, and it saddens you to think about.

There’s a new mall in town, Starcourt, and within a few months of it opening, Bookstrordinary has slowly been edging out of business. The entire town of Hawkins quickly fell in love with the mall, but with this love came the abandonment of downtown Hawkins.

Mrs. Waters can barely afford to have you work more than a few hours a day, so you’ve been spending your days visiting Nancy and Jonathan at their internship at the Hawkins Post or hanging at Scoops Ahoy to see Steve and Robin. While your friends have been lovely, you can’t swallow down the fear that you’ll lose your job by the end of summer.

As if somehow reading your thoughts, Jonathan puts down his comic and pokes your cheek. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask if you and Nance thought of anything else to try and save Bookstrordinary.”

You glue down a letter and try to distract yourself with the miniscule task. Nancy has been brainstorming a million ideas to try and help Mrs. Water, and while you appreciate her effort, it’s no use. Swallowing down even more dread, you shake your head at Jonathan. “No, nothing. Nancy offered to help organize a book drive to get more customers, but…”

“It wouldn’t be enough.” Jonathan finishes for you.

“Not nearly enough,” you sigh, desperately wanting to change the topic now. “But besides me possibly losing my job soon, how has yours been at the Hawkins Post?”

Now it’s Jonathan’s turn to sigh. “It’s… okay? I guess. I–I mean, definitely not what I expected it to be. The hours suck and the men are awful, but…” he shifts uncomfortably and looks away from you, embarrassed. “A job is a job.”

You rub his arm, understanding what he means. The Byers have always struggled with money, but ever since Will went missing two years ago and Jonathan lost his last job at the Hawk movie theater, it’s only gotten worse. They’ve tried hiding it, but last week you sneakily paid for Will’s ice cream at Scoops Ahoy while no one else was looking.

“I get it, bee.” You reassure him, hating that he even feels embarrassed in the first place.

Jonathan smiles and leans into your touch, appreciative of the fact that you know his family well enough by now to understand all he’s too ashamed to say. The two of you sit quietly for a few moments before he tries to lighten the mood with something else. “You excited for your birthday, bug?”

“Ugh,” you shake your head in disgust, which Jonathan laughs at. He knows you’ve never really liked your birthday. “Don’t remind me.”

“It’s in a few days, so you gotta suck it up.” Jonathan flicks your forehead and you swat your hand at him. “Besides, I bet $5 that Steve has some grand proposal planned for your birthday this year. He’s spent the entire summer drooling over you.”

His words make you blush furiously. “He has not–”

“He definitely has,” Jonathan tries to flick you again but you dodge, giggling. “I’m surprised he hasn’t publicly declared your love for you yet. I think there’s a betting pool going around the party.”

You gasp. “You’re lying!”

“Nope. Lucas and Max both lost last week, they bet mid June. Now it’s only me, Nancy, Will, and Dustin in the running.”

“What about Mike and El?”

“Mike didn’t want to encourage you dating Steve and the party agreed it felt unfair to have El gamble seeing as how she’s, ya know, still getting used to being in society.”

Despite yourself, you laugh. The idea is so bizarre and lovely, knowing how invested everyone is in your alleged love life, and it makes the worry you’ve been feeling fade away. “Can I join the pool? If I actually lose my job, I’ll need the money.”

Jonathan scoffs at you. “That goes against every gambling rule–”

“Please? I could be poor soon!”

“No, it’s not going to happen–”

“But–”

A knock on the window cuts you off. The two of you look up at the sound and find Nancy standing outside, waving and smiling. You hurry over to let her in, happy as always to see her. She’s been spending more and more nights at Jonathan’s, always sneaking in through the window.

It’s disgusting, and you couldn’t be happier for them.

Jonathan helps the girl climb through the window and greets her with a kiss to the forehead. “Hey, Nance.”

She smiles up at him with a shine in her eyes, and you know it’s time to leave. It’s getting late, anyways. You start to gather your banner supplies as you greet Nancy yourself. “Welcome back, Wheeler.”

“Hello to you too, Henderson.”

You wink at the girl and quickly ruffle Jonathan’s hair. “I’m going home, bee. My mom wants me to help prep Dustin’s room and I wanna have his banner done by tomorrow.”

“Bike home safe, please.” He says with a stern finger pointed at you.

Rolling your eyes, you give a mocking salute to Nancy and Jonathan. “Use protection, kids. I’m too young to be an aunt.”

Nancy gasps while Jonathan practically trips over his own two feet at your words, and you laugh. You leave them alone to compose themselves, closing the door to Jonathan shouting, “That wasn’t funny!”

You’re still giggling to yourself when you walk into the living room and see Joyce and Will sprawled on the couch. Their movie has just finished, the credits are rolling as you stand next to the TV and wave goodbye to them.

“You leaving so soon?” Joyce asks, surprised to even see you leave Jonathan’s room in the first place.

“Yeah, gotta finish up Dustin’s welcome home banner,” you hold up your supplies. Then, through the house’s thin walls, you all hear Nancy’s soft giggle. At the sound, you lean in close to Joyce and Will and dramatically whisper, “Plus, between the three of us, company came, so…”

Will’s eyes widen. “Yuck!”

Joyce chuckles, remembering how in love she was at Jonathan’s age back then. “Would I be a bad parent if I told Nancy she could just use the front door?”

“I don’t think so, but it’s fun watching them think they’re getting away with it.” You steal a piece of candy from the bowl Will had been eating out of, and he holds it up higher so that you can grab more. “Thanks, little bee.”

“You think it’s fun teasing Nancy and Jonathan now, Y/N, but when you’re the one sneaking in through a boy’s window one day…” Joyce shrugs, a twinkle in her eye. “You’ll understand.”

Will looks up at you with his own evil glint in his eyes, and before you can stop him, he turns to his mom and says, “I wonder how high Steve Harrington’s window is.”

You pretend to attack Will and he giggles as he flees his seat and runs to the other side of the living room. “Will Byers I will spit in your cookies–”

Joyce covers her mouth and gasps. “Y/N, are you hiding a boyfriend from me?”

Quickly you stop chasing after Will, terrified of the idea of the woman thinking you’d hide anything from her. “What? No! I’m not dating Steve–”

“Yet!” Will exclaims from across the room, but his retaliation is followed by a shriek as you chase after the kid again.

“If you keep this up, I’m telling Steve to stop letting y’all sneak into the movies!” You threaten as you chase the boy around the room.

Joyce watches in amusement, she’s never been able to take her eyes off of you when you’re with her boys. Will dodges a grab and you stumble, giving him just enough time to hide behind his mom’s armchair.

He pokes his head out at your threat, his eyes now uncertain. “You wouldn’t really tell Steve that, right?”

Catching your breath, you collapse onto the couch and shake your head at him. “No, little bee. I wouldn’t.”

You’d never do that to Will. He’s been so keen on spending as much time as possible with the party this summer, spending each and every moment planning DnD campaigns and biking all over Hawkins to spend mere seconds together. Will has spent all summer trying as hard as possible to be a kid again because so much of his childhood was stolen by Upside Down.

Will slowly gets up from behind the armchair and sits next to you, relieved. “Okay, good. We wanna see a movie tomorrow night and I already promised everyone you’d get Steve to let us in. That would’ve sucked.”

You and Joyce laugh at the boy’s response, and it feels so good to have this moment with the two of them. You allow it to wash over you for a second, the Byers home has always had such a comforting effect on you, before getting up and gathering your things once more. “I really should go, though. My mom is waiting.”

Joyce and Will say goodbye and tell you to be safe on your way home, and it warms something within you. As you bike down their driveway home, you inhale the summer night’s air and wonder, days before you turn seventeen, how much longer you have left of just this: being a little kid going home after a long day.

–

When you get home, Tews greets you with an angry meow.

The cat had been a Christmas gift for your mom from you and Dustin, seeing as how you accidentally killed Mews. Your mom had cried seeing the little kitten, and had cried even harder when your brother suggested the stupid name “Tews.”

But it stuck, and now Tews glares at you as you take your time feeding her.

In Dustin’s room you can hear your mom rustling around, frantically cleaning the place as if it currently isn’t the cleanest it’s ever been since the kid has been gone all month. After you feed Tews, you make your way over to your brother’s room to help with cleaning.

A few hours later, you’re laying in bed, exhausted from your long day. Dustin’s banner sits on your desk, right next to the phone that resides in the corner. Yawning, you glance at the clock, but when you see the time, you smile.

The phone rings.

“Right on time, honey.”

“Aren’t I always, angel?” Steve’s voice soothes your aching bones, his words like honey, the very thing you’ve come to associate with him.

Phone calls have become more and more common between you and Steve. You’re not sure when this tradition formed, but when you aren’t at Scoops and he isn’t at your house infiltrating your family, you’re on the phone with one another.

Hearing Steve’s voice puts you at ease, and it wasn’t long before you started calling each other before bed every night.

“How was your day?” You ask him, spinning the phone’s cable around your finger as you lay in bed.

Steve lets out a dramatic groan. “I swear, after you left today, Robin intentionally amped up her taunts. It’s like you’re her buffer or something. The second you leave,” you hear him snap his fingers, “she turns against me!”

“Robin would never do that.” Your voice is monotone as you say this, which only makes Steve groan dramatically once more. Robin would most definitely do that; you both know this.

“You two are the worst together.”

“Yeah, well,” you pull your blankets up to your chin and readjust into a comfier position. Your eyes feel heavy and Steve’s voice settles over your body. “Prepare for more pain tomorrow night. Will and the party have grand plans to sneak into yet another movie.”

Steve sighs. “Those kids are manipulating your power over me to get what they want.”

“You call it manipulation, I call it bonding.”

Another sigh escapes Steve. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“And yet you stay.” You tease.

“And yet I stay.”

You bite back a smile; you can almost perfectly envision Steve laying in his own bed, phone pressed to his ear with his hair messy and eyes half lidded as he talks to you. You wish, more than anything, that you could be there with him right now; instead, you fall asleep to the sound of Steve’s voice, slightly raspy from his own exhaustion.

–

The next day you wake up to an empty house. Your mom has been spending her summer at Hawkin’s pool, like all the moms in town now do, to admire Billy at his new job.

It grosses you out to no end, and when your mom comes home some days swearing that Billy winked at her, you have to swallow down the phantom pain of his fingers wrapping around your windpipe.

By the time you get to work, Downtown Hawkins, as always, is a ghost town.

It’s been this way ever since Starcourt opened, and as you park your bike and lock it up, you can’t help but be unnerved by how quiet everything is. It was only a few years ago that you had to scream at a crowd of onlookers when Jonathan and Joyce had had that fight when they had found Will’s body in the quarry.

Now, walking slowly towards the front doors of Bookstrordinary, all you hear is silence in the once lively area. There are posters scattered throughout the old town, but they’re worn from the sunlight and torn from the weather. It’s a depressing sight.

Mrs. Waters greets you kindly when you walk in. “Hello, dear.”

“Hi, Mrs. Waters.” You give her a quick peck on the cheek as you quickly swipe your card to clock in. The bookstore is empty. “Any new shipments today?”

The old woman shakes her head forelonly. “Afraid not. We still haven’t sold last month’s shipment.”

You duck your head down and curse. This is the second shipment you weren’t able to sell. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Waters.”

“Oh, don’t be!” She walks over to you, her wrist shakes as she uses her cane. She has aged so much these last few years. “I’ve owned this store for thirty years, dear. I’m just happy that I can give you and Alex a job before you kids go off to college. Besides, it’s given me something to do these last few years without my husband…”

The woman’s eyes glaze over, something that has started to happen more and more now, and you grab her arm gently and give her a little shake. “Hey, Mrs. Waters. You still with me?”

She blinks, looks around in a confused daze, before breaking into her old smile once more. “Of course I am! Now, sort some books while I ward off those debt collectors with this cane.”

Despite the gravity of the situation, you can’t help but laugh at Mrs. Waters as she waves her cane around madly and gives you a wink. She hobbles back to her office and leaves you alone with the books and the ghost of Downtown Hawkins.

Only two customers come in during your four hour shift, and by midday Mrs. Waters releases you so that she can give Alex a few hours of work as well. She’s trying her best to keep you both hired for as long as she can, so she splits your hours. What she doesn’t know is that Alex now has a job at Hawkins’ pool and only comes into work because he just can’t bear to quit, and neither can you.

You bike to the mall, sad and needing a pick me up. Jonathan’s teasing from last night echoes in your head. How could you possibly think about your birthday when your boss is slowly losing both her mind and her business?

At the mall, your feet unconsciously take you to Scoops as they always do. This has become your favorite part of your dreary days: going to Scoops after work. The smell of ice cream greets you as you walk into the shop.

Robin sees you first and waves excitedly from the register. “Y/N!”

“It’s me!” You run up to the counter and lean over it to squeeze the girl into a tight hug.

There’s a loud crash from the backroom and just as you’ve pulled away from Robin, Steve bursts through the doors and leaps over the counter to join in on the hug. “Thank God you’re here, Robin was about to make me clean the tables.”

You giggle while Robin scoffs, pulling away. “It’s your turn, dingus.”

Steve, still hugging you from behind, hums. He begins to rock you back and forth in his arms, which only makes you giggle more, while he pretends to think about what the girl has said. “Nope, don’t remember it being my turn.”

Robin gives you a pleading look to back her up, and you reluctantly slide your arms over Steve’s and release his grip. He groans in complaint at the loss of your touch, and you roll your eyes at him as you turn around to now face him. “C’mon, let’s go wipe the tables so dear Robin can man the register in peace.”

Steve groans even louder now as Robin cheers, and you snatch the rag from his pocket and begin to wipe down the tables. He follows eventually, moaning and groaning as he cleans next to you, and you hit your hip against his. “Hey, at least you’re getting paid for this.”

“I give you free ice cream!” He argues, pieces of his hair falling out of his adorably dorky sailor’s hat that he has to wear for this job. It’s incredibly endearing, and as he hunches over to scrub at a particularly dirty table, his thighs strain against his probably too short shorts and you can’t help but stare at them. As you admire this spectacular show, Steve catches you and flicks your nose. “Quit ogling me and get back to your free labor, angel.”

“I wasn’t ogling, I was simply admiring.”

Robin gags from behind the register. “I can hear you guys, you know!”

You and Steve both stick your tongues out at her before going back to work.

The hours pass by quickly after that. The midday rush of tweens and teens alike infiltrate Scoops, so Steve helps Robin fling ice cream while you get comfortable in your designated booth in the corner. You’ve hidden a supply of comics underneath one of the booth’s cushions and you spend your time catching up on the latest Spider-Man arc.

You’re so engrossed in what you’re reading that you don’t notice a body slide into the booth next to you until the person speaks.

“Spider-Man, huh? Heard he’s a pretty cool guy.”

Startled by the stranger’s voice, you almost drop your comic in alarm. When you see that it’s just Jason Carver sitting next to you, you place a hand to your chest and inhale quickly, trying to settle your rapid heartbeat. “Christ, you scared me.”

“Sorry!” He genuinely looks apologetic, so you wearily set down your comic and straighten up.

You’ve never spoken to Jason before, even though you’ve been in the same classes ever since eighth grade. He’s always ran with the popular crowd, being a jock and all, and you’ve always ran with Jonathan. However, despite being on the basketball team, Jason has never been mean to either of you, so you figure it’s safe to offer him your attention.

“Can I ask why you’re here?” You cock your head at him, feeling your hair fall over your shoulders.

Jason smiles at you, in a sort of cute and charming way. “Stopped by to get my little sister some ice cream,” he points to a little girl next to him, who waves at you, and you wave back. “Then I saw you sitting here all alone reading one of my favorite comics, so I figured it wouldn’t hurt to say hi to such a pretty girl.”

You blush at his bold words. You’ve never received such attention from anyone before, at least not anyone normal thanks to Billy, and you’re not really sure why Jason seems to be paying attention to you now. He’s had years to do this.

Jason sees your sudden shyness and chuckles. He stands up and offers you his hand. “Why don’t I buy you some ice cream, maybe you could help me show my sister around the mall–” Steve’s shoulder collides roughly into the teen’s, causing him to stumble into his sister’s ice cream cone and get chocolate ice cream all over the front of his pants. Jason looks up at Steve and balls his fists in anger. “What the fuck, Harrington?”

You quickly cover the little girl’s ears, though she giggles.

Steve shrugs as he looks at Jason. “Sorry, man. Didn’t see you there.” Then, he turns to you, and offers his own hand. “Anyways, I think it’s time for your daily free ice cream, angel.”

Jason’s eyes narrow as you accept Steve’s hand and spare him an apologetic glance. Before you leave, you dig some cash out of your overalls and hand them to him. “For your sister’s new ice cream cone.”

He sighs and accepts the money. Jason knows that Steve is still holding your hand as he stands behind you, but he has nothing else to lose at this point. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “I didn’t stand a chance, did I?”

Steve twirls you with your interlocked hands, causing you to giggle, and guides you to the ice cream counter. As he leaves, shouts behind him, “Not at all, buddy!”

You know you should feel bad, but Steve twirls you again and all you can do is giggle breathlessly as Jason Carver walks out of Scoops with his sister in tow.

–

Later that night the mall is busier than ever, and as you’re gossiping with Robin about Steve ruining Jason’s pants, you’re interrupted by Mike’s grubby little hand repeatedly hitting the bell.

Seems it’s time for their movie.

You flick the kid’s head, which Lucas, Max, and Will snicker at. “Enough!”

“Ow, Y/N!”

“Thanks,” Robin sends you an appreciative smile before she calls towards the backroom, “Dingus, your children are here!”

Within seconds, Steve opens the sliding windows and sighs when he sees Mike and the party. “Again? Seriously?”

“I warned you.” You say, shrugging at his annoyance. “Let the kids have some fun.”

Mike rings the bell again. “Do what Y/N says.”

Steve sighs in defeat and motions for the kids to follow him behind the counter. “Fine, but only because I’m nice, not because Y/N said so.”

“Right.” Everyone says, not at all believing him, which Steve chooses to ignore.

You all follow him through the back entrance of the mall. Checking to make sure the coast is clear, Steve waves the kids inside. “I swear, if anybody hears about this–”

“We’re dead.” The kids all respond, voices monotone with annoyance after hearing this threat a million times.

However, before they all leave, Will gently tugs at your hand to get your attention. “Are you coming with?”

You want to say yes, but then you catch Steve’s eyes and he silently pleads with you to stay, and you know you can’t tell him no. Squeezing Will’s hand, you shake your head. “Sorry, little bee. I promise I will next time, though.”

Mike scoffs in disgust, disappointed in you. Your relationship with Steve has always confused him, and you’ve only gotten closer to the teen since Dustin left for camp. He pities what the boy will think when he comes back to his sister all lovey-dovey with an idiot like Steve Harrington.

Once the kids leave, you go back into Scoops with Steve and settle into your booth once more. Grabbing your comic, you flip to where you left off before looking up at the teen and saying, “you have me for another hour. I can’t be out late tonight, Dustin comes home tomorrow and I promised Mike I’d be up at like seven to let everyone in.”

Steve salutes you and hops back behind his counter to help Robin with some customers. You smile at his antics and go back to reading. A few minutes pass, Spider-Man has just kissed MJ, before the lights above you start to flicker and then go out completely.

Everyone in the mall gasps and murmurs in a slight panic as they’re thrown into darkness. The hair on your arms stands up; you no longer trust lights that flicker. Robin catches your eye and gives you an odd look when she sees the fear on your face.

“Scared of the dark, Y/N?” She teases, not understanding what you really fear: what lies below Hawkins.

“That’s weird,” Steve mumbles to himself as he goes over to the light switch. He starts to flip the switch repeatedly, and you roll your eyes at him. He’s an idiot sometimes.

“That isn’t gonna work, dingus.” Robin says, looking over at you once more as if to silently ask, why are you attracted to him?

You shake your head at her as Steve continues to flip the switch, now only quickening his movements. He stares Robin down as if to challenge her. “Oh, really?”

Nothing happens, because contrary to what Steve may believe, he can’t fix what is likely (and what you hope) is simply a blackout from the summer heat. He flicks the lightswitch a few more times before the generators kick back on and Scoops Ahoy is once again lit up.

Steve raises his eyebrows at Robin and smirks at her, pleased. “See? Let there be light.”

You drop your head to the table, now also questioning why you’re attracted to the guy.

However, when it’s time to head home and Steve walks with you to your bike outside, he kisses your cheek and wishes you a good night; you know that this is the reason you’ve fallen for him: his kindness. With his kiss lingering on your cheek, you bike home.

–

When Steve gets back from saying goodbye to you, he’s met with a nosey Robin.

She stands against the counter with her arms crossed. There aren’t any more customers in the shop, they closed about ten minutes ago, and Steve was really looking forward to driving home and taking off his stupid uniform.

Robin, however, clearly has other plans.

“What did I do now?” He asks her, not daring to take any step closer.

“Why haven’t you asked Y/N out yet?” Steve’s eyes widen at the question and Robin knows she’s got him cornered. “I’ve spent hours with you guys, and it’s driving me insane that you haven’t manned up!”

“‘Manned up’?” Steve sputters out, completely offended.

Robin throws her arms out in front of her. “Yes! I mean, it’s so obvious that you’re in love with her and that she’s in love with you. Just… Just get it over with!”

Blushing, Steve slumps against the wall and closes his eyes. As much as it pains him to admit it, he knows that Robin is right. “It’s… complicated.”

“Well, go on.” The girl now hops on the counter and sits on it. “Explain it to me, then.”

“Y/N used to be in love with…” Steve stops, unsure if you’d want him to be telling Robin this. “Someone.”

She rolls her eyes. “Everyone knows she was in love with that Byers kid.”

“Right.” He clears his throat, uncomfortable with the reminder that at one point, everyone in Hawkins truly believed you were destined for Jonathan. “Well as I’m sure you know… He got with Nancy, who–uh, I had been with.”

“Okay, so what?”

“I–” Steve isn’t sure what Robin doesn’t understand. “I needed… time?”

Robin frowns. “After Nancy dumped you?”

“Technically I dumped her–”

“What does this have to do with Y/N?” Robin presses.

Steve groans and rubs at his eyes. He’s tired and wants to go home to call you and go to bed with your soft voice in his head. “Y/N understood that the breakup with Nancy hurt, and–well. She told me she’d wait for me. I guess. While I figured my shit out.”

Robin thinks this over for a minute. “Okay, I think I can understand that, but–wait, when did this all happen again?”

“... December.” He closes his eyes, bracing himself for the girl’s inevitable anger.

“Harrington!”

There it is.

“I know, okay?” Steve tugs at his hair in frustration. “I’m over Nancy, I’ve been over her since at least April, but… But what–what if Y/N has lost interest in me now? What if–maybe I made her wait too long, or–or what if she thinks she’s just Nancy’s replacement?”

Steve is rambling now, months of his anxious and insecure thoughts now spilling out. “I mean, it’d kill me if–if I ever made her feel second to anyone! She’s… She’s incredible and–God, I don’t even know why she likes me and I’ve spent this entire summer trying to–I don’t know… Figure out how to confess my feelings to her in a way that matters, ya know? Like, a grand proposal to show her that I’m crazy about her.”

Robin is silent for several minutes after Steve’s frantic spiel, he’s panting by the time he’s done. Then, finally, she says, “Dude… You’re way overthinking this.”

Steve winces. “I mean, her birthday is in a few days. I can… I can ask her to be my girlfriend then. That’s romantic, right?”

“You’re hopeless.”

–

“Dusty comes home today!” Your mom’s shrill voice wakes you up as she prances around the house getting ready. You roll over in bed and stretch, tired but excited to see your brother again after a month of being apart.

You get out of bed and press a kiss to your mother’s cheek before telling her to drive safe. Glancing at the clock, you see that you have just enough time to shower before the party arrives. The entire thing had been Mike’s plan and you were more than happy to help arrange everything.

After you’ve gotten ready, you hear three swift knocks on your front door and you answer it. “Right on time, Wheeler.”

Mike salutes you as he and the others walk in. El gives you a hug and Max high fives you as the boys start setting up the robots. The six of you get started on the plan: place all the robots in Dustin’s room, all hidden in various corners, and then use El’s powers to control them and guide him to the living room so that you all can surprise him.

It’s a brilliant plan, one only a Wheeler could think of.

It takes you, Lucas, Mike, and Will to successfully hang up Dustin’s banner that took you all week to make. There’s cursing, yelling, a few trips, and multiple snickers from El and Max while the four of you struggle to hang the thing, but eventually you manage to secure the banner into place in the living room.

Just as you’ve finished hanging it up, you hear your mom’s car pull into the driveway and you quickly shove the kids into a closet. “Quick! That’s my mom’s car, hide!”

Lucas yelps and Max punches his shoulder to shut him up, but thankfully you manage to close the closet door just in time before Dustin walks in. You hide behind the couch, quiet so as not to be seen by him, and carefully listen for his footsteps to retreat down the hall and into his room.

Once he’s gone, you scramble towards the closet and open the door. “Okay, he’s in his room, time for step two.”

“Did we all really have to hide in the closet?” Will asks, rubbing at his shoulder that had been shoved into a hanger.

“Yes, now shush and hide behind the wall so he doesn’t see you.” You order, and the kids all listen. Once you’re all pressed against the wall, you nod at El. “Ready?”

“Ready.” She responds, closing her eyes. Static fills the air and you hear one of the robots turn on in Dustin’s room. Then the other one turns on, then the monkey, and soon all the toys have been activated by El’s powers.

Mike pokes his head around the corner. “Okay, now start leading the robots here.”

Blood slowly begins to drip from El’s nose and you feel bad that she’s doing this, but the kids all look excited, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little giddy yourself. The noise from the robots grows louder as El draws them out from the room and towards you guys.

You hear Dustin’s uncertain voice following behind them. “It’s just a dream… You’re dreaming.”

Then Mike whispers to El, “Now!”

The robots all die in the center of your living room and slowly everyone starts to creep out from behind the wall. Lucas is holding his own poster he made and you hand everyone party noisemakers. Dustin is investigating the robots and doesn’t hear you stalk up behind him. Max silently counts to three, and on her signal, you all blow your party noisemakers and surprise him.

Dustin screams and immediately holds up his Farrah Fawcett spray, blinding Lucas as he continuously sprays it. The poor boy screams as well and the rest of the kids back away, out of the line of fire. However, as soon as your momentary shock wears off, you manage to snatch the hairspray out of your brother’s hand and save Lucas.

“Why is Farrah Fawcett your weapon of choice?” You exclaim, shoving a still screaming Lucas towards your kitchen so that you flush the spray out of his eyes. Max joins, rubbing soothing circles into the boy’s back.

“Why would you scare me like that after the hell we went through this year?” Dustin shouts back at you, clutching at his chest.

Dustin’s words make you stop for a moment and think. Huh. He has a point. “Yeah, we should’ve thought about that, honestly.”

“A little help here?” Lucas brings the attention back to him and you apologize, helping him once more to flush his eyes out. As you and Max tend to him, Dustin tells the others to follow him to his room so he can show them what he built at camp.

Max splashes some more water in Lucas’ eyes. “Better?”

The boy stands up and wipes his face, though he’s careful not to touch his eyes. “Still stings.”

“I feel like I should call someone…” You mumble, Your first aid knowledge doesn’t include Farrah Fawcett in the eyes.

Lucas blinks a few times and looks around. He leans in closer to Max’s face and for a moment you’re scared he’ll kiss her, but instead he chooses to be an idiot. “Is that a new zit?”

You wince and Max’s eyes widen in disbelief. She looks at you and you both seem to come to the same agreement: grabbing the back of Lucas’ neck, the two of you shove his face back into the water. “What is wrong with you?”

Lucas screams again and you leave Max to deal with him, laughing to yourself as you go see whatever creation your brother has brought home. You love Lucas, you do, but you have no idea how Max puts up with his boyish antics.

Inside Dustin’s room, you find him and the others hunched over a collection of wires and metal pieces. You walk in and join them.

“I would like you to meet Cerebro.” Dustin presents his creation, but you honestly have no idea what it’s supposed to be.

You squint at it. “It’s… Pretty?”

“What exactly are we looking at here?” Mike asks, unimpressed.

“An unassembled, one-of-a-kind, battery powered radio tower!” Dustin explains with a proud smile on his face.

A beat of silence passes before Will carefully asks, “So… It’s a ham radio?”

Dustin’s excitement only grows. “The Cadillac of radios.”

“Still not understanding, buddy.” You now voice, usually always lost when it comes to the more AV stuff the party likes.

“This baby carries a crystal-clear connection over vast differences.” Your brother clarifies for you, and you nod along. “I’m talking North Pole to South. I can talk to my girlfriend whenever and wherever I choose.”

You, Mike, El, and Will all look at each other in shock at the word that has just left Dustin’s mouth. “Girlfriend?”

Your brother nods, looking all smug, and you immediately berate him with a million questions. “What’s her name, where is she from, how long have you been dating. Tell me everything, now!”

“Relax, dear sister. Her name is Suzie, and I’ll explain in a second. We can even talk to her if you guys help me set Cerebro up on Weathertop hill.”

You’re the first to start grabbing all the supplies, giddy and eager to hear more about your baby brother’s girlfriend. It’s almost too good to be true. Mike, Will, and El follow along and soon you’re all holding materials for Cerebro as you follow Dustin out of the house.

As you all leave, Mike starts asking questions again. “Wait, so her name is Suzie?”

Dustin nods. “Suzie, with a ‘z’. She’s from Utah.”

“People from Utah actually exist?” You ask, which the others laugh at.

“Girls go to science camp?” Will asks.

You give him a stern look. “Anyone can go to science camp, Will.”

“What Y/N said,” Dustin continues explaining his girlfriend. “And Suzie does, she’s a genius.”

“Is she cute?” Mike can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“Think Phoebe Cates, only better.”

You re-adjust one of the poles for Cerebro in your arms. “Can we focus on her being smart instead? I think she sounds lovely.”

From the kitchen, Max sees the four of you open the front door as she helps Lucas with his eyes. “What’s going on?”

“We’re going to talk to Dustin’s girlfriend.” Will informs them.

Lucas whips his head up from the sink as he and Max exclaim, “Girlfriend?”

“I know, right?” You say, motioning them to follow.

–

“Alrighty, one scoop of chocolate. That’s a buck twenty-five.” Steve hands the ice cream cone to the girl he’s currently serving. She’s pretty enough, and when he notices her Purdue shirt, he can’t help but say something about it. “Ooh, Purdue! Fancy.”

The girl smiles and hands Steve her change. “Yeah, I’m excited.”

“Yeah, you know… I–I considered it. Purdue.” He types the code into the register and places the change inside. “But then I was like, you know what? I really think I need some real life experience, you know, before I hit college. See what it’s like.”

The girl and the friend she’s with exchange weird glances, and Steve knows he’s rambling like an idiot. “Uh, what I mean is… You’re girls, right? How would the two of you like to be asked out by a guy?”

“I’m sorry?” Purdue girl asks, looking at her friend, creeped out.

The cash register begins to beep at him and Steve hits it a few times to shut it up. “Sorry, uh… Anyways, say you’ve seen this guy every day for like, months, and feelings are shared, you know, as they are. Then time passes and the guy never makes the move because he’s, well, he’s an idiot–”

“Yeah, totally.” Purdue girl interrupts him and her friend giggles.

“Exactly, so… This was, like, so fun. This little chat. Anyways, what do you think? How would you want the guy to ask you out?” Steve puts on his most charming smile, hoping that the girls will say that maybe he isn’t crazy for waiting so long to ask you out. As he hands them their change, he drops part of it. “Oh, sorry about that. Uh…”

“Yeah, we wouldn’t wanna be asked out.” Purdue girl says as her friend snorts.

“Sure, but I mean, it’s complicated, you know? And–”

Purdue girl interrupts him once more. “No, I’m sorry, but it sounds like you missed your chance and you’re like, really weird.”

“But the guy isn’t me!” Steve shouts as the two girls leave, only embarrassing himself even more. He sighs, closes his eyes, and wonders how he got here.

“And another one bites the dust.” Robin announces from behind him. He turns around and watches as she marks another tally underneath the you suck column of her whiteboard. Next to it is the column you rule, which currently has zero marks. “You are oh-for-six, Popeye.”

Steve crosses his arms. “Yeah, I can count.”

“You know that means you suck and that Y/N isn’t the problem here, you are, right?”

“Yup, I can read, too.” Steve swallows down his annoyance, he knows he’s only done this to himself.

“Since when?”

“It’s this stupid hat,” Steve complains, as if this is the only appropriate answer. “I’m telling you, it’s making everyone think I’m some pathetic guy who can’t ask a girl out.”

Robin leans against the window. “Yeah, company policy is the reason that you’re an idiot for not asking out Y/N.” She thinks for a moment and tries to offer the teen some advice. “Ya know, it’s a crazy idea, but have you considered telling the truth?”

“What? That I’m hopelessly in love with her? Sure, I’m such a catch who couldn’t even get into Tech and whose douchebag dad is trying to teach a lesson, now making three bucks an hour with no future.” Steve laughs at himself. “A catch who, by the way, could’ve been hers back in December had he not been a complete moron? What a great truth.”

Robin frowns, now feeling bad for making him feel this way. While she doesn’t understand everything, she gets that Steve has had a difficult few months. Taking pity on him, she points out some girls approaching and tries to lighten his mood. “Hey, twelve o’clock! Maybe they’ll see your side of things.”

Steve turns around and sees the girls as well. “Shit, okay. Okay, I can do this! I’m going in.” He quickly snatches the sailor hat from his head and tosses it to Robin. “Screw company policy, I’m getting advice about Y/N one way or another.”

For a second, Robin has hope for him, but then he opens his Scoops Ahoy greeting way too loud and then immediately starts to ramble about you, and she sighs in defeat and marks another tally underneath the you suck column.

–

Hiking up a giant, grassy hill in ninety degree heat while hauling heavy equipment for a giant radio that your brother built to talk to his alleged long distance girlfriend definitely wasn’t what you had in mind today. In fact, you mourn the fact that you aren’t working today.

You’re only here to hear about Dustin’s girlfriend, honestly.

“Aren’t we high enough?” Lucas pants, voicing what everyone else is thinking.

Dustin shakes his head. “Cerebro works best at a hundred meters.”

“You know, I’m pretty sure people in Utah have telephones.” Max quips.

You wipe sweat from your brow and cringe, you feel disgusting. “Max, you’ve always been so wise.”

“Suzie’s Mormon.” Says Dustin, and you almost trip over a rock.

“You’re dating a Mormon?”

Lucas talks over you. “Oh, shit. She doesn’t have electricity?”

“Oh, that’s the Amish.” Max corrects him, and you get flashbacks to when you had to correct Steve about Nazis and Germans.

Will frowns at you. “What are Mormons?”

“Scary people–”

Dustin interrupts you. “Super religious white people. They have electricity and cars and stuff, but… Since I’m not Mormon, her parents would never approve.”

“Please don’t become Mormon,” you beg, dripping even more sweat. “I need someone sane in our family.”

“I won’t,” Dustin reassures you, though he has a far off look in his eyes. “But it’s all a bit Shakespearean, don’t you think?”

“Shakespearean?” Max laughs and you also can’t help but giggle.

Dustin doesn’t let your teasing deter him from reminiscing, though. “Yeah, like Romeo and Juliet.”

“They both die, Dustin.” It’s important to you that he knows this.

“But they were also star crossed lovers.”

“Who killed themselves.”

Below, Mike shouts to the rest of you, “Hey, guys!”

You all turn and you frown when you see just how far he and El are, both of them empty handed and dry as a daisy in the summer heat. When Mike sees that he has all of your attention, he taps at his watch. “This is fun and all, but, uh…”

“I have to go home.” El announces, her arm intertwined through Mike’s.

Dustin points towards the top of the hill no less than a few yards away. “We’re almost there.”

“Sorry, man. Curfew.” Mike shrugs, he isn’t really sorry and you all know it. He then grabs El’s hand and they descend down the hill, giggling and enamored with one another.

With a gleeful laugh, El says goodbye. “Good luck!”

Dustin looks down at his watch. “Curfew at four?”

You’re startled by the time, having assumed it was at least closer to six. Hopper may be an overprotective grump of a man, but not even he is crazy enough to enact a curfew for El at four in the afternoon. “That… Doesn’t sound real.”

“They’re lying.” Lucas explains, frustrated.

“It’s been like this all summer.” Will says bitterly, something that you take note of.

Max nudges you with her shoulder. “I think it’s romantic.”

“It’s gross!” Will voices again.

You bite your lip. “I don’t know, it’s your guys’ last summer before high school and…”

“It’s bullshit.” Dustin finishes for you, hurt in his voice. “I just got home.”

You flick him. “Language! But… I agree.”

Dustin watches with annoyance as Mike and El walk down the hill hand in hand. While he’s incredibly hurt that they’ve ditched him after being gone for a month, he remembers what Steve has taught him. People can suck, but there’s nothing he can do about it. “Well, their loss, right? Onwards and upwards, Suzie awaits!”

Max and Lucas groan at the idea of continuing the hike while you admire your brother’s perseverance. You’re proud of him for not letting Mike and El ruin his plans with the others. He’s excited to be home, and you’re more than happy to go along with whatever schemes he has planned.

You’re about to follow the others up the hill when you realize that Will hasn’t joined. You turn around and see that he has his hand around the back of his neck as he stands there, frozen. Then, he turns and faces Hawkins, stumbling back a bit as he does so, and you watch with a frown on your face.

“Hey, little bee, are you okay?” You gently place a hand on his shoulder, which seems to break him of whatever spell he’d been under.

“I’m fine,” he lies, and you don’t at all believe him. Will looks uneasy, as if he’s just seen a ghost. A part of you begins to worry, but you don’t push him. For all you know, it could be about Mike and his growing distance from the others.

“Well, c’mon, then.” You grab Will’s hand and together you ascend the rest of the hill.

At the top, Dustin drops his bag and sighs. “Made it!”

“Yeah, only took five hours,” Max pants out, stumbling the final few steps up the hill.

You collapse onto the ground and fight to catch your breath. “I run almost every morning. I think I lost a lung back there.”

“Why couldn’t we just play DnD?” Will collapses next to you.

Lucas grabs the flask of water, and as you struggle to get air into your lungs, you watch as he chugs the remaining water without a care in the world. Max watches as well, annoyed, and once again you pity Lucas. He’s such a boy.

Building the radio takes longer than expected. After your short five minute break, Dusin puts you all to work. There’s a million pieces to the thing and your fingers ache from screwing bolts into slots and extending poles. The sun has begun to set when you finally push the giant radio into an upright position. It’s easily fifteen feet high, and it’s an impressive sight that you can’t deny.

“Not bad, Dustin.” You admit, walking around Cerebro in awe.

“Ready to meet my love?” He asks everyone, and you all sit down next to him and eagerly await. Dustin switches the radio on. “Suzie, this is Dustin. Do you copy? Over.”

No one answers. All you hear is radio feedback.

Dustin scratches his nose nervously. “One sec. She’s probably… She’s still there.” Again, no one answers, and he ducks his head down in embarrassment. “Suzie… This is Dustin, do you copy? Over.”

More radio static follows in the absence of Suzie’s response.

You wince, despite trying to appear supportive. You can’t help it, this is embarrassing for your brother. While you don’t doubt that he has a girlfriend, you admit that this doesn’t look good for him. A long distance girlfriend who is hot and smart and magically needs a radio to communicate with? Unlikely.

“I’m sure she’s there,” Dustin tries to explain to you guys, now even more embarrassed. “It’s dinner time, and she’s busy…”

“Yeah, sure.” Lucas tries to be supportive and play along, which you appreciate him immensely for. Max nods as well, but Will just stands there silent.

“Maybe try again?” You encourage, trying to be nice.

Dustin nods and tries once more to contact Suzie, and it goes on like this for a while. He radios, no one answers, and eventually you and everyone else lay down in the grass as you wait for nothing.

Almost an hour passes and the crickets begin to chirp as the sun goes down and the moon comes up. Dustin is still trying to reach Suzie, but Max finally has enough. “Dustin, come on! She’s not there.”

“She’s there, alright? She’ll pick up.”

“Dustin…” You sigh, unsure how to tell him that you also want to leave. You had plans with Steve tonight, he invited you over to watch a movie and you should’ve left ten minutes ago.

Will lifts his head up from the grass. “Maybe Cerebro doesn’t work.”

“Or maybe Suzie doesn’t exist.” Lucas argues.

Dustin gasps. “She exists!”

“She’s a genius and she’s hotter than Phoebe Cates? No girl is that perfect.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose at Lucas’ words and wait for Max’s inevitable offense. He truly, deeply, is such a boy. As predicted, Max sits up and looks down at him with annoyance. “Is that so?”

Lucas shuffles up in panic, now realizing too late what he’s said. “I mean–you’re perfect! I mean, like, perfect–in your own way, in your own, uh, special way!”

“Lucas,” you hit his shoulder. “Stop talking, dude.”

Max laughs, pleased with herself. “Relax, I was teasing. I’m obviously perfect and Dustin is obviously lying.”

“Okay, no,” you now sit up. “He isn’t lying, it’s just a very unfortunate circumstance.”

Max doesn’t listen and instead offers Lucas her hand to help him up so that they can leave. “Come on, Don Juan.”

“Where are you going?” Dustin follows, not understanding yet what’s happening.

“Home,” Max huffs, before remembering that you’re there, too. “Bye, Y/N!”

“Bye,” you wave at them weakly, knowing that this will only upset your brother further as she and Lucas slowly head home.

Dustin stands next to you now. “Well, guess it’s just us and Byers, Y/N,”

Will now stands up and awkwardly avoids your brother’s gaze. “Um… It’s late. Sorry. Maybe tomorrow we can play DnD, or something fun, like we used to?”

Dustin clenches his jaw. You know he’s close to tears, and it breaks your heart to watch. You stand up and rest your arm around him as he responds to Will. “Yeah, sure.”

“Welcome home,” Will says sadly before he starts to walk down the hill as well.

You anxiously watch as he leaves. “Be careful, please!”

“I will!” He reassures you, knowing that you’re still terrified of losing him again.

As you watch Will, Dustin whispers to himself, “Yeah, welcome home.”

His words break your heart even more. Forgetting about your anxiety over Will, you wrap both arms around your brother and hug him. He had been so excited earlier to be home and see all his friends after a month of being away. You understand that the kids are all growing up, but you had always hoped that they’d grow together, not apart.

“You still have all of July and August,” you try to comfort Dustin, desperately hoping that you aren’t lying to both him and yourself. “I’m sure they’ll come around.”

Suddenly the radio attached to Cerebro switches on and Dustin pushes you off of him so that he can get to the radio in time. He stumbles over his feet and trips, and you watch with amusement and curiosity.

He manages to finally untangle himself from the radio and answers. “Suzie, Suzie, is that you?”

You sit down next to Dustin and lean in close to the radio, excited to finally meet your brother’s girlfriend. Instead, you hear what sounds like a foreign language. It’s distinct, slightly muffled, but you know what it is. “Is that…”

“Russian.” Dustin whispers.

Everything changes, then.

–

You force Dustin to go home immediately. He wants to stay, see if he can find any more hidden messages, but you refuse. He’s elated, talking a mile a minute as you bike home, theorizing every possible answer as to why you heard Russian in Hawkins, Indiana.

“Dustin!” You yell at him, terrified that someone could be listening. “Not here, okay?”

He deflates, but pedals home alongside you.

You’re terrified as you bike home, a million thoughts are running through your head. You don’t at all like what any of this could mean; you’ve had enough sketchy government facilities and secret government agencies to last you a fucking lifetime.

When you get home, you order Dustin to go to bed.

“But Y/N, we’ve got to tell someone about this–”

“Tomorrow, okay? Just, please, Dustin.” You’re exhausted and confused and overwhelmed.

Your brother senses that you’re at your limit and reluctantly backs down. “Fine, but can we at least tell Steve tomorrow?”

Hearing Steve’s name puts something at ease within you. Tomorrow, you’ll go to Scoops with Dustin and ask Steve what he thinks about all of this. Comforted by the fact that you now have a plan forming, you begin to calm down. “I promise we’ll tell him tomorrow, okay?”

Dustin nods and heads to his room, wishing you a good night. When you hear his door click shut, you slowly head to your own room. You’re terrified, and there’s only one thing you want to do to lessen the fear that scratches at your throat. After crawling into bed, you call Steve.

He answers immediately. “Y/N? Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine,” you breathe out, his voice like an exhale of a summer’s day. “I… I’m sorry I missed our movie night.”

Steve laughs softly. “Angel, I’m just happy you’re okay. I was getting worried there.”

You close your eyes. “It’s been a weird day.”

“Did something happen?” Steve senses that there’s something you aren’t telling him, which worries him.

“Dustin… He may have found something, but I just–I don’t want to talk about it just yet. I… I don’t want to jinx it,” you squeeze your eyes tight and will away the fear you feel. “I–I’m just, I’m so exhausted, you know?”

“Y/N, are you in danger–”

“No,” you dispel any fear that Steve may feel. “I promise I’m okay, I just really need to hear your voice right now, okay? Can you just talk to me, please?”

“Of course I can.” Steve agrees without any questions asked, and you love how he trusts you enough to do this.

Exhaling the remaining fear, you allow the warmth from Steve to hold you through the night. “Thank you, honey.”

“Anytime, angel. You know that.”

And you do.

Steve begins telling you a story from today, how he dropped an ice cream cone on a toddler and enraged the mom, and you fall asleep that night to the sound of his voice over the phone.

-

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#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #fluff #angst #nya #m's writing

[feyascorner]

Ok but what if tav is the hero of baldurs gate right, the god killer, slayer of the chosen three, savior of the emerald grove etc etc and after all that is told they had this incurable illness that the parasite had only slowed down. Now, with it gone, it’s progressing again and Tav can’t help but feel so stupid, weak even, that such a mighty hero could be struck by the weaknesses of their own body

Maybe pushes everyone away when they find out, too afraid to tell them that after everything they’ve been through after surviving all of that that they were going to die anyways

AND THEN ASTARIONS REACTION!!! Because surely he would not take that news sitting down (if he found out at all)

a/n. anon how did you know this type of prompt is exactly my cup of tea <33

It's not fair.

You did everything right. You saved the grove, the Tieflings, the Druids, the gnomes, the city, and even those who did not deserve saving, you always came to their aid. You've slayed gods, mind flayers, githyanki, even a bloody elder brain. And now, finally, after so long, with the brain having been defeated, and nothing but pure bliss occupying your headspace, you think you finally have time to relax.

Instead, you're reeled over the bathroom sink, eyes blurry from how much your body seems hellbent on making you miserable.

Ah, you remember. No matter what you've done for others, no matter what you've sacrificed, you're reduced to nothing but a sick patient. One that has no hope for a cure.

The months spent with little to do with your illness has left it to come back tenfold, and now all you can do is grovel on the bathroom floor, head in your hands as you understand that this is all you were meant to amount to. In the end, you were always destined to rot away by yourself and succumb to this gods forsaken disease. You are no hero. This is what you truly are---the pitiful remains of someone who longed for more.

The weeks following the defeat of the elder brain are filled with mournful streets for those who lost their lives and the joyous laughter of those who live on for them. Celebration--though it's difficult with half the taverns having collapsed in the battle--is not out of the ordinary. Strangers and friends alike come together every night, singing praises to whichever gods they worship. Your companions are no exception.

But each and every time, you deny their offers. You've become quite skilled at making up excuses about feeling tired, about having errands to run, or having loose ends to tie up. In reality, you're a coward. Despite the trust they put in you, you cannot provide it back--not in matters like this. Not when you've all been through so much, just for your own journey to amount to nothing.

It's not like you haven't known about this disease. You knew your death was imminent. But now, after experiencing just a fraction of what life has to offer, you no longer want to let go.

It's just not fair.

For what seems to be the millionth time this week, you hear someone knock at your door. Whichever one of your companions it is, you don't bother taking a step from your bed, face still planted into your sheets. You don't have the energy to move, and the useless healing herbs scattered across the room don't exactly hide your secret. So instead of standing, you bury your face deeper into your bed.

"You can't stay in there forever."

You flinch as you realize it's a voice you've dreaded hearing. One that invokes so much love yet fear as you remember that if you see him right now, it might be your last. And you don't want that. Not at all.

"I don't know what we've done to make you push us away like this," he says through the door, and your fist tightens in front of your chest. "But this is getting ridiculous, darling. You have to come out eventually."

You remain silent.

"Gods, just--" he stops, and you can hear the hesitance in his voice. You swear it almost cracks a little. "--Have I done something wrong?"

At this, you're suddenly on your feet, rushing to push yourself against the door, but unwilling to open in. "No, Astarion, you haven't done anything wrong. Don't you dare think that way."

You can hear him shift. "Then why do you avoid me? The others, I can understand, but me?...I mean, I thought we were more than that..."

"We are, it's just..."

"Just what?"

The final thread of your resolve snaps, and you reach toward your lock. Your hand falters for a moment, but you eventually open the door slowly. And if the way his face falls tells you anything, you must look absolutely dreadful.

"Oh, my sweet, what's happened to you?" he whispers, his eyes widening even more when he sees the mess of your home behind you. The clothes all over the floor, the blinds shut despite there being no sunlight to shield from, the healing potions and herbs messily tossed around...you'd feel ashamed if you weren't so tired already.

"...Are you sick?" he steps inside, taking his time to take in the state of what you call home. When you don't answer, he whips around to you, alarmed. "You're sick. Is it a cold? Flu?"

You shake your head, sick of having to lie to the one person you don't want to deceive. "It's a long story."

"I'm undead, darling. I have all the time in the world."

"It's not a very nice story."

"If I wanted a nice story, I'd be listening to a bard someplace else," he says, and you feel your eyes bubble with tears as he steps closer. "What's happened?"

The words spill out like vomit, and you're soon telling him what's been weighing on you for so long. You find yourself sliding down to the ground, and he goes with you, letting you grasp desperately at the sleeves of his shirt while you tell him everything. You can barely breathe with how fast your talking but you're afraid you won't say everything if you get any slower. The entire time, he just stares at you, his arms circled around you, and only when you're done does his gaze finally flicker.

"...Surely, there must be a cure." He's suddenly glancing around the entire room, at pieces of herbs. "Surely, at least one of these would--"

"None of them work, Astarion."

"Then we can find the finest healers in the city--we can even go back to that damn druid, and ask him."

"I've tried."

"Well, you haven't tried hard enough, obviously, if you haven't found a bloody cure!"

You give him one hard look--one with dark bags under your eyes and a weariness that stretches on for weeks--and his temper seems to cool. His shoulders slump, but he reaches for your hand, rubbing his thumb against your skin. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I just felt so weak," you whisper. "I didn't want you to think that too."

Immediately, his eyes harden, and he takes both sides of your face in his hands. "No. I don't think you're weak, and that's not going to change. You've proven yourself more than I can count, and I know you enough to know that you can't let it end like this, love. You can't leave like this."

"Astarion..."

He shakes his head. "I won't let this take you from me. There have been too many opportunities for us to lose each other, and we've overcome them all. We'll just do it again. We'll go to the most skilled healers in Faerun. We'll go to all of them if we have to, and we'll start tomorrow."

You can feel yourself tear up again, and he kisses your tears away while you sob in his arms.

"I'll save you," he mumbles against your temple. "Even if it's the last thing I do."

#astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion #bg3 x reader #fluff #bg3

[amomentsescape]

hello! Are you ok?, I hope so ❤️ (by the way, your writing is wonderful)

I would like to make a request for Yandere Slashers with an S/O who is a mermaid, who usually kills people who dare to invade her lakes, and she kills these people by drowning.

(I'm sorry if there are any writing errors, English is not my first language, and I'm writing this using Google translate)

Slashers with Mermaid! Reader

Yandere! Slashers x Reader

Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, & Bo

A/N: I'm doing good, thank you <3 I hope you enjoy! (Also, I decided I'm going to remove Lester from the Slasher requests. I'm still very much open to writing for him when specified, but I feel like he doesn't quite fit in with all the other Slashers).

Freddy Krueger

Meeting you was quite literally the best thing to ever happen in his undead life

He likes to team up with you, constantly coming up with different ways you both can contribute to someone's death

You pull them under, and they suddenly wake up in Freddy's world

Your dynamic is pretty ideal too

Whenever you sleep, you can visit him

And he has no issues with popping into your waters just to say hi

He does this quite often, in fact

He is very aware you can take care of yourself, but he still gets worried

You're his

He doesn't trust anyone being around you

Even if your only intention is to kill them immediately

He understands that where you are now is your home, but that won't stop him from doing whatever he can to have you live in his world

He can create the perfect environment for you

Miles and miles of nothing but water if your heart desires

Which hopefully it does

Since he isn't willing to wait much longer

Michael Myers

He never thought creatures like you actually existed

But the moment he saw your strength and darkness, he was immediately drawn in against his better judgment

He visits more often then you think

He's always around, watching

You can feel eyes on you almost 90% of the day, but you never really know where it's coming from

He enjoys watching you swim and just relax

But he especially loves seeing you drag poor souls into the tide with you

There's something so twisted and yet magical about watching you kill

But this fascination is also paired with extreme jealousy

He hates seeing you touch other people

And he almost envies the way they get to be so close to you, even if it means their demise

He hopes to find a way to take you home with him for good one of these times

You told him you loved him, so you'd be happy as long as you're by his side

Right?

Jason Voorhees

Out of all places to meet the love of your life, this one seemed especially unfortunate for Jason

But his feelings for you were strong enough to overrule his fear

He'll sit by the shore with you, hearing you talk and sing old tunes he's never heard before

He loves listening to your stories about the world underneath the current

But this always leaves him with such a deep feeling of sadness

He wants a life where you both can live together and share those memories

But he knows that's nearly impossible

He starts spending more time by the water side than the camp, finding that irresponsible teens like to be by the beach even more than the forest

You lure them in with your beauty and your words, and Jason finishes the job

He'll let you kill too if you really wish to, but he doesn't like the idea of those types of people being so close to you

He barely gets to touch you, so why should they get what he so desperately wants instead?

Thomas Hewitt

In this desert like area of Texas, Thomas has to travel quite far to see you

But the one time he accidentally stumbled upon you, he was smitten

And you surprisingly didn't turn him into another victim like all the others

He was kind to you

And now, he brings you food and stops by as often as he possibly can

You've made him little necklaces out of bones and shells

He wears every single one of them

Your bond only gets stronger each time he comes to see you

But Thomas can only take so much

Why can't you be closer?

He knows the family would love you

And he could make you so happy

His bathtub is big enough for you, he's sure of it

He knows that you won't want to leave your own home for his, but he loves you and knows what will be best for you

He's just got to be patient

Bubba Sawyer

His own family had to go on a search for him after he disappeared for a couple days

But he just couldn't help it

You make him so happy, and the more time he spent with you, the more difficult it became to leave your side

He's tried to jump in a few times to be with you, but you always persuade him out of it

He doesn't know how to swim, and you don't want him to end up like everyone else

That's when he decided that the best option would be to create your very own pond in his backyard!

That way, you could be with each other, and he would never have to say goodbye again

He hasn't told you this idea yet, but he's sure you'd be happy with it

This would also keep you from needing to kill anyone else

You're too beautiful to get your hands dirty

And it's unfair that they get to join you in the water when you won't let him do the same

He can make you super happy with his family, he's sure of it

Brahms Heelshire

He hates this dynamic between you two

He wants you at home with him so you can take care of him, and he can keep you away from everyone else

No one should get to touch you or look at you besides him

He's actually tried to drag you out of the water before, but the prospect of accidentally killing you was enough to make him stop

He never knew he could envy a body of water as much as he does

It gets to hold you, touch you, and be with you at all times

He wants that too, so desperately

Because of you, he's gone from house dweller to nature enthusiast in just a matter of days

Even when you think he's at home, he's stalking around, watching you

He insists it's to keep you safe

In fact, you haven't had to drown anyone in quite a while

And you can thank Brahms for that

The moment he sees a single soul in the area, he drags them off and disposes of them before you even have a chance to see them

He wouldn't dare let you touch another being that isn't him

Norman Bates

It honestly took him a really long time to believe that you were even real

He didn't think mermaids or sirens actually existed, so seeing you for the first time made him pinch himself to make sure this wasn't some weird dream

He also took a while to trust you since he didn't want to fall victim to your treacherous waters

But once he realized you were genuine, he dove straight in all at once

He visits you whenever he can for however long he can muster

Someone needs to run the motel, but God he wishes he could be with you 24/7

He's "jokingly" brought up the idea of you staying at the motel in a pool he could install for you

He just wants to keep an eye on you at all times

He constantly dreams of finding a way to make you human so you two can truly be together

Until you have two feet like him, it will never be enough

Billy Loomis

Doesn't tell a single soul about you

Not even Stu

And it's not because he's embarrassed or wants to see other people

He's honestly just scared that others will either think he's insane or try to capture you

Visits you every day and makes sure to pack his swim trunks so he can join you in the water

Constantly admires you and wants to run his hands along your scales

He just thinks you're all around incredible

But he has this hidden level of anger towards the situation

He wants to walk around town with you, show you off

He wants you to join him on his sprees so you can see just how powerful he can be

And he hates the idea of not having eyes on you at all times

He knows you kill anyone who isn't him, but he doesn't want you getting that close to anyone in general

He spends his nights studying ways to get you to live with him

He'll find a way to have you all to himself, even if it ends up being the death of him

Stu Macher

He actually first met you while you were seducing some poor soul to their death

And Stu was immediately enamored

He comes to see you whenever he can

He sometimes spends the weekend camping out along the shore just so he can spend more time with you

He thinks you're beautiful of course, but he can't help but fantasize what it would be like if you were human like him

You two come from very different worlds, but there's nothing that could keep you away from him

He likes to bring up the idea of mermaids and mythical creatures in casual conversations with people

How they react to it will determine whether they make his hit list

He likes to bring you jewelry and pretty objects from his victims, showing you items that you've never seen before

He talks about how one of these days, he's going to have a house built on the shore so he can be with you

And if you argue against it, he will shut down

The pent up frustration of not getting to sleep next to you every night makes his killings more brutal and his fantasies all the more darker

Vincent Sinclair

Every time he comes to see you, he brings a new portrait or wax figure of you that he made

You flood his dreams and his mind 24/7

He honestly thinks he's under some sort of spell

He doesn't mind that you aren't human like him

He's always felt very different from everyone else, so it's nice for him to have someone he relates to

But his jealousy constantly gets the better of him

Anytime you tell him of some poor soul you drowned, he can't help but feel his blood boil

Even if it ends in their death, he hates the idea of you flirting or seducing these people

The only one who should be receiving that attention is him

Barely sleeps at night

He has snuck to the shore countless time without your knowledge, just watching you and making sure your stories line up with what he observes

Is overall obsessed even more than you know

Bo Sinclair

If anyone saw you together, it would be enough to make them blush

The way you two can constantly flirt back and forth without any hesitation is otherworldly

You could have sworn he must have been a creature like you in a past life

He's so touchy when he's with you, not afraid to get his clothes wet in an effort to just be closer to you

He truly makes you feel accepted as you are and with where you live

But little do you know of his darker nature

He stalks the shore and kills off anyone that trespasses before you even have a chance to get to them

He doesn't need you looking at anyone but him

And he's already been renovating an old abandoned pool in Ambrose for you

You're going to finally be living with him like he's always wanted

You don't know this yet, but he's sure you'll be happy with the idea

It will be a great surprise

#slashers x reader #slasher preference #slashers headcanon #slashers preference #slashers #michael myers headcanons #michael myers x reader #michael myers #jason voorhees headcanons #jason voorhees x reader #jason voorhees #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #brahms heelshire x reader #brahms heelshire #brahms heelshire headcanon #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis headcanon #billy loomis #stu macher x reader #stu macher #stu macher headcanons #vincent sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair #lester sinclair #freddy krueger #freddy krueger x reader #hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x reader

[charliemwrites]

Part 7 of Charmed Slasher Simon

CW for gore and violence. No smut (yet) this part was already long enough so I’m saving it for part 8

The carpets are drenched in blood, squish beneath Simon’s boots as he toes a lifeless arm out of the way. Headcount: 5 dead, 6 to go. And you for last.

You, wide eyed and paralyzed as you recognized the skull mask from nearly a year ago. Your manager had to drag you off. Simon’s going to cut his fingers off one by one for that.

Your coworkers are such easy prey. Hapless in the dark with a snowstorm raging outside. Huddling first for warmth and now from fear. You’re trying to gather everyone up; strength in numbers. Not a bad idea. But Simon’s faster and quieter and he’s been picking them off one by one.

The ones you’ve always liked he gives a quick death. A hot spill of blood before they even realize they’re dead. The others though - ones that have reported you to HR, badmouthed you to the boss, so much as stolen a pen. Those he’s been taking special care with, dooming them to long, slow deaths that you always stumble upon too late to do much more than cry and hold their hands.

Oh you’re so pretty like this. It really is the best of you. Too kind for your own good, all that altruism useless against a tidal wave of violence. He loves to watch you be so good.

It’s three more before he finds you again - separated from that manager. All on your own. Simon will have his guts for that as well, since he’s not using them.

He lunges at you, just slow enough that you can duck away as his knife thunks against the wall. Your eyes are so big; he can see the reflection of the mask in them.

You scramble away without looking back like the smart girl you are and Simon grins to himself as he takes his time following. There’s a yelp and then a thump, your quiet curse. Simon rounds the corner but you’re long gone - the smeared blood from you slipping though…

His cock twitches. You, covered in the blood of his victims, your own coworkers…

He rips the mask off and tucks the knife away as he hears voices up ahead. His name in a harsh whisper. He puts on the same terrified look he’s seen a million times, crouches down as he wobbles around the corner.

“Riley!”

You choke off a sob as you stumble to him, hands reaching. He catches you fast, eyes flicking over your shoulder to find Brandon trembling behind the couch.

“Where have you been?!” you murmur, eyes flicking over his face, his body. “oh, god you’re covered in blood!”

“‘S not mine, luv.”

You sniffle, shaking hands gripping at his forearms. “I-it’s awful. I don’t know why this is happening again.”

“It’ll be alright, I’ll keep you safe from him.”

You give him a half-hearted smile. Simon mirrors it, putting on his best survivor face.

“How do you know it’s a ‘he’?” Brandon asks.

Simon levels him a flat look. “Caught a glimpse of him gutting your manager. Big fucking bloke.”

You whimper; he’s all too happy to bundle you in his arms, stain you in crimson. From the other side of the couch, Brandon is staring. Hard.

“Where have you been?”

“Hiding. Like you.”

You pull away, frown at Brandon in confusion.

“Where?” Brandon persists.

Simon narrows his eyes in warning but the wormfood doesn’t take it back.

“Wherever I can,” Simon answers. “Like you.”

“Then why are you covered in so much blood?”

You step between them, as if you could do anything if they did start fighting.

“Brandon, what are you getting at?” You ask. “You don’t seriously think…?”

“Well where the hell did all that blood come from then?!”

Simon scoffs, puts a little hysteria in it. “You think I did all this?! You think I - that I-”

Except once he starts laughing in disbelief, he can’t stop. It’s just too funny. This idiot that can’t recognize something that doesn’t belong to him has Simon clocked in less than five cumulative minutes. Meanwhile, you’ve been orbiting around him like a little moon for months and haven’t had so much as an inkling.

“I can’t,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “I can’t keep a straight face. Never was much of an actor.”

The blood is draining from your face as you stare at him, warring with denial burning in your eyes. He coos, slips the mask from his back pocket and waves it in front of your face.

“Been too long since we last did this, eh, luv? Better venue than the hospital at least.”

You whimper, too frightened to even cry properly, all that water and energy going into survival. He takes a single step forward and grins as you nearly trip over yourself getting away.

“Careful, luv. I want a proper chase from you this time.”

But first-

“If you stay right there and give her time to run, I might not flay off all your skin.”

And the fucking coward bolts. Simon tsks in disgust, pulls the mask over his face.

“Looks like you didn’t learn the lesson last time,” he muses to you. “Your friends haven’t got any better. I’ll have to find another way to make the lesson stick.”

You pivot and dart around the couch, sprinting for the same doorway Brandon went through. Simon merrily follows, hopping the couch and letting his boots land hard to warn you that he’s right behind you.

You take sharp corners and double back, thinking that his larger size will make it harder to change directions. It would be smart in any other situation, against anyone else. But this is Simon, and he’s letting you stay just out of reach. Only tugging at your clothes when it seems like you need an extra boost.

As you’re passing through a doorway, there’s an ominous creak. A huge grandfather clock that nearly slams into Simon. You don’t dare look back, taking the next corner and disappearing.

Simon looks up at the landing where the clock used to stand. Brandon is leaning over the railing, white knuckled and despairing. Simon cracks his neck, rolls his shoulders.

“Alright then.”

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic #charmed slasher ghost #final girl reader

[frost-queen]

Lady of Mirkwood | (Reader x Thranduil)

Requested by: anon, Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22@elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers @merlieve,  @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly,@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury, @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn

| Meeting Thranduil

You met Thranduil when the Third age progressed. It was when the Necromancer unknown then but known as Sauron later on claimed the abandoned fortress of Amon Lanc to make it into Dol Guldur. Sauron infected the woods with spiders and orcs. The spiders and the orcs expended their reach claiming more and more for them. Infecting the very nature with their filth and death.

All the elves were forced to leave the woods. Those who fought back were brought down. Countless of lost elves filled the sickening woods. You were amongst some elves that were fleeing. The orcs had increased their stench to the part of the woods where you lived. With a few douzen you were. Fleeing for your lives as the orcs hunted you down. The woods had grown iller. Spider cobs were not too much yet in these parts. But a few spiders having expended their webs out to your lands.

Some elves wanted to stay and fight. They barely lasted long as the pack of orcs were too many. Sweeping them down in a matter of seconds. The others fled as fast as they could. Hatred, anger and sorrow grieving your hearts. You were running trying to stay out of the orcs clutches. The orcs attack made you stumble, dropping to the ground. Surrounded by death and darkness. You thought it was over. You thought you were never going to see the undying lands, but then a bright light appeared between the trees. The illumination blinded the orcs sending them back a bit. The light faded as you could see a small group of elves charge for battle. Lead by a High elf.

The orcs never stood a chance. The High elf approached you, helping you up your feet. The moment his eyes met with his, he was struck. Gasping breathlessly at your grace and beauty. The woods no longer having a place for you, he took you in. Thranduil his name was. King of the woodland realm.

| Life at the woodland realm

Thranduil was smitten with you. For the first time in many ages, the so cocky king found beauty in another. He threated you like a guest with the highest honor. Quarters close to his. Thranduil would host parties just to have an excuse to dance with you. He never let any other elf near you. He wanted you for himself. You sometimes dared to tease Thranduil by speaking to other elves, just to see his reaction. You loved how easily jealous he was. He would come over, pull you gently behind him while urging them in a polite way to leave. Sometimes he would lay his robe over your shoulder to hint to others that you were his.

Underneath the moonlight on a summer's day was when you had your first kiss with Thranduil. Forever giving yourself to one another. He married you a month later never wanted to be parted from you ever again. You became queen of the woodland realm. All the elves present adored you for your righteousness and kind heart. Whenever Thranduil dared to lose his temper, you were there to calm him down. Sometimes you would come along with Thranduil and his army in an attempt to reclaim your woods. When Thranduil saw his numbers dim and almost losing you in a battle, he gave up. Not wanting to see his people be slaughtered or see you in danger. For he could not afford to lose you, his brightest star.

| Legolas

Legolas was born with grace. You loved every little detail of him. Thranduil would be careful at first. For he feared to hold such a fragile creature. He feared he might harm it in any way. You would show him he could do no harm. Taking his hand and bringing it up to Legolas for him to touch. His fingers would brush against his cheek making Legolas flutter a laugh. On that Thranduil was sold. Taking his son in his arms and care deeply for him.

As Legolas grew older, Thranduil insisted he had his features from you. Everything about Legolas reminded him of you. With the coming of Legolas was Thranduil more careful. You were no longer aloud out of the woodland realm. Not wanting anything to happen to you or Legolas. You had to admit it felt a bit lonely being unable to see the old woods. Your home that you missed dearly. With each year it grew colder and deader. Plagued by orcs and spiders. Since you had no where else to go, you focused more on Legolas. Teaching him how to defend himself. It was you who introduced Legolas to the bow and arrow. When Legolas was old enough to have his own bow, he would name it after you.

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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!  

#imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #headcanon #lord of the rings #the hobbit #lotr headcanon #the hobbit headcanons #legolas #lotr legolas #thranduil #thranduil x reader #thranduil x you #thranduil imagine #thranduil fanfiction #thranduil x y/n #thranduil x elf #mirkwood #tolkien elves #tolkien #middle earth #sauron #thranduil headcanon #thranduil fic