#karma is so so so very real and i feel it every day - every minute even i'm not joking | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

batchilla · 10 days ago

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hi @interwebseriesfan24 as promised I am back to freak the fuck out.

Got me looking like this guy.

I love how we just see the Reader (who I'm dubbing DR, for Detective Reader, from now on) absolutely want to kill Dick for this. Because y'know what, I'd want to kill him too! He drops by DR's apartment late at night as Nightwing, all but confirming the theory he and Dick Grayson are the same, and yet this man is somehow awake, functioning, and presentable. That's evil to me. (Not in the normal evil way, but I mean, how can you be all three before nine in the morning. I'm only ever functioning and presentable before nine in the morning, I'm never truly awake until eleven.)

for real. It's not malicious, it's not mean, but also, Dick, how dare you. Be tired and grumpy with the rest of us you little shit.

Sincerely, I would kick him and find a way to frame it as an accident. Just to frumple him up somehow, if that were possible.

His preferred method for DR making him less presentable would be a heated makeout session tbh ;)

wild comparison to make (at least to me, with what I know about the Batfamily), that's amazing! If DR were in Gotham, she'd be run ragged, but he's right. The bat signal would probably be turned on less frequently.

Oh yeah it was meant to be an insane compliment. Honestly Detective reader would be SO done, but she'd find a way to keep penguin in prison for more then ten minutes.

Anyway, can we also discuss these sentences where you wrote about how Dick feels about DR's smile??

I'm so glad those hit, I often worry I come across as to dramatic and I am glad I found the balance.

But seriously, boo to McElroy. Awful man, I will not give you the time of day. (But as someone who has dealt with sexual harrassment, I think you wrote DR's perspective about him being back very tastefully, and it was realistic to me with how she would be feeling. Also Dick is gonna fuck him up at some point, I feel it in every fiber of my being. Even if he doesn't do so in the manner we, the readers, would expect. Because, the claws may not have receded, but they have relaxed. You've got something going on here.)

first off, my sincere condolences. I am very grateful for the feedback, as I was worried about handling it properly. He will be hit by the karma bus, and the karma truck, driven by Dick and DR respectively.

I love that Dick trusts her. He's only gotten an introduction from McIdiot (that's his name now, to me), but he trusts DR's gut.

Badabupbahda. Indeed. He knows her and trusts her. If she's scared, there's cause, and he won't let that cause happen.

Moving on, I do want to say I laughed out loud when this line popped up: "Was it deceptive? Well, no more than anything else he did as Nightwing… well, maybe a little more. "

I had such a shit eating grin on my face writing the entire Nightwing on the other roof scene. Free indirect discourse is such a fun tool to play with and drop into fics as a little extra spice. It has been a long time favorite of mine. I don't think I would want to use it 100% of the time but it's like salt flakes on a roast potato imo. Just a sprinkle is so good.

Your style is so hilarious to read. I love the way your thoughts blend into the story, the way you weave funny little bits in. Your articulation, your word choice are both awesome (think of it in the way you'd see the word used before our time, like how it was used in the early 1900s). I love seeing you bleed into the story, even if it's just a little bit.

hm. Well. This will haunt me and make me feel good about my writing forever.

It's a great situation because he's misreading his own last name to keep a cover he's already lost. What a ham.

Hes just a silly lil guy your honor. Truly I feel like the 'Richard Grerson' moment was one of my faves of the series to write so far. It is so silly and yet she is also so right to be annoyed because... Richard Grerson? he thought that would work? meanwhile Dick is just PANICKING. No he doesn't think she's that dumb he just isn't used to smart people who aren't the bats.

And that's the second best part of this chapter to me, that he gets to see that if you paid close enough attention (like DR!!), anyone with a good head on their shoulders could piece together that he is (at the very least) a superhero.

Yes exactly. Aside from a bit of a revenge prank, what she's doing is also calling out his mistakes. It keeps him safer, because it's presumable that the mole working for the serial killer is ALSO paying attention.

Because now there's this risk for him. He has to shut down that idea for her, but he can't make it obvious, he can't interfere too much as Nightwing. That's like giving an affidavit, confessing Dick Grayson was the first Robin, and now is Nightwing.

I am planning to play with this more next time we see Dick. He's going to have to 'convince' her to trust him but without letting on he thinks she doesn't trust him. Its a delightful mess.

the key phrase here being the real him.

I completely agree. Because Who is the Real Him? Is it Richard Grayson? Is it Nightwing? In my humble opinion its both. The truth of Dick is that he's both. To truly know the real him, you'd need to know both. Which is why to me it's so special that she recognized him on sight. Princess Bride? Me? Inconceivable. You've fallen for one of the three classic blunders and assumed I know what I am doing. (I do occasionally, and this is one such occasion).

The best part of this chapter, to me, was when you wrote how Dick knew what it felt like to fly. And that DR made him feel that way, if not better. To have (as you wrote) "gravity become an afterthought" because of a person must be an exhilerating and fantastic experience. For that to be how Dick feels about her. After everything he's gone through - everything he's experienced - it's amazing. It does something to me, gives me this unknown feeling that rides my train of thought. I love it

Again, so glad this landed. I had it stuck in my head as a brainworm since I had the idea. DO NOT DARE APOLOGIZE LOOK AT THIS DM I SENT WHILE SHOWING THIS ASK TO A FRIEND LIKE A PROUD KINDERGARTNER WITH AN ASSIGNMENT THAT GOT A STICKER. seriously I might have to name my firstborn @interwebseriesfan24.

More pics of me reading this ask

When I saw that you had posted Chapter 2 for YKIKR, something lit up inside of me. You absolutely deserve the praise you received for Chapter 1. It was delectable! And I knew that this would be just as delicious to take in. Dick Grayson is back in the building (aka my brain), and he's a welcome presence. Fun fact, but Saturdays are always blue to me, so this being posted on a Saturday feels so fitting because that's his color. (Also, I'm in awe that my ask about Chapter 1 is something you think about daily. But it makes me glad that I send these asks to writers.)

Sincerely, I would kick him and find a way to frame it as an accident. Just to frumple him up somehow, if that were possible.

Also, can we talk about this paragraph you wrote in Dick's perspective, the one where he thinks how, "It wasn’t that he objected to her as a partner - short of his family, she was possibly the best he’d ever met. Frankly, if she was transferred to Gotham, the bat signal would be turned on far less frequently."

LIKE HELLO?? I see that as an absolute win!! That is a wild comparison to make (at least to me, with what I know about the Batfamily), that's amazing! If DR were in Gotham, she'd be run ragged, but he's right. The bat signal would probably be turned on less frequently. And I love how he just....god, he feels so bright here. He's always been bright to me in a way that makes you want to be enveloped by the brightness. And that's what I read him as here, and that younger version of me is sitting right next to me, reading and feeling the same way. I know I said it last time, but you really have portrayed him so well. I may be older, but god does it feel like time had stopped and only now resumed.

Anyway, can we also discuss these sentences where you wrote about how Dick feels about DR's smile?? Because that floored me and made me kick my feet. That man is smitten, and I am **here** for it!! (Pretend that here was bolded, I'm drafting this ask in my notes app, lol)

I love that Dick trusts her. He's only gotten an introduction from McIdiot (that's his name now, to me), but he trusts DR's gut. He saw her reaction to the guy. The venom he held back will intermingle with the words in his throat at some point (I'm typing this as I read), and they will make for a dangerous pair.

Moving on, I do want to say I laughed out loud when this line popped up: "Was it deceptive? Well, no more than anything else he did as Nightwing… well, maybe a little more. "

Because honestly, yeah, anything he does as Nightwing is technically deceptive. But the framing of this line......okay, it reminded me of a literary technique we learned the actual name of in one of my lit classes (I'm an English major; I didn't know the formal name for the term, but I knew what it was): free indirect discourse. Obviously, this is fanfiction, and yada yada yada yah, but like. It's so funny, idk. I love it. (It is not my favorite/the best bit ((imo)), though!! That's at the end :) )

For a few seconds, I forgot this series had so much going on besides the romance aspects, lol. And I really enjoy when that happens, because it makes my reading experience better all the more. Like, they're mutually crushing on one another, and one of them is a superhero, and oh yeah, they're tracking a serial killer. I love the intermingling of ideas.

Also, he really did commit the cheesiest move known to history. Pebbles at the window.....Dick Grayson/Nightwing would. (I think both personas would, personally.)

The fact that Dick still thinks DR doesn't know he's Nightwing is the best thing, to me. It's a great situation because he's misreading his own last name to keep a cover he's already lost. What a ham. I mean, he blew it when he asked abkut himself first, and now he's finding out how he's given away details of who he could be during his non-superhero time. And that's the second best part of this chapter to me, that he gets to see that if you paid close enough attention (like DR!!), anyone with a good head on their shoulders could piece together that he is (at the very least) a superhero.

DR seeing Dick as a corrupt cop (whether or not to make it so he doesn't catch on to her knowing his double identity) is a great detail. Because now there's this risk for him. He has to shut down that idea for her, but he can't make it obvious, he can't interfere too much as Nightwing. That's like giving an affidavit, confessing Dick Grayson was the first Robin, and now is Nightwing.

Did I want to howl in pain from the idea you placed in front of me that Dick Grayson would never get to tell DR how wonderful she is, that he'll never get to confess to her? Yes. But that's the beauty of this duel identity. Although, I'd like to point out that you wrote that, "he’d never feel that warmth of 10,000 stars directed at the real him", with the key phrase here being the real him.

AND DON'T THINK I MISSED THAT PRINCESS BRIDE REFERENCE WITH THE "As You Wish" THING. (Unless I'm reading too much into this, and it is not a reference, lol. In that case, pretend you did not see this.) That does so much here, and I know you know what you did with this. But know that I know what you did with this, and it makes me insane.

If I could, I'd reach through my phone screen and shake you right now. Oh my goddddddddddddd!!!!!!! Okay, onto my favorite/the best part (imo) before I go balls to the walls insane.

Anywho, I love this. Thanks again for writing and for being you. Have a great night!! Sorry for the length of this. (I know last time you said not to apologize, but I wrote so much, and I never know if people are in the mood to read this much about a reader's thoughts. Also!! The formatting of this worked!!)

Im going to freak out about this later. Because I’m ✨with people✨ and can’t take ten minutes to write the reply this deserves. So see you in an hour or so.

Please don’t apologise because responses like this are my main motivation for writing, and they mean the absolute world to me.

Im at a shopping centre with my child sibling and im trying not to cry because then I’ll have to tell this kid that I write about fictional men I wanna smooch.

#Batchilla squeaks #check this tag when i get imposter syndrome

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la-fille-en-aiguilles · 2 years ago

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Deadmen Don't Decide

(Deadmen Got No Luck, part III)

Steve Harrington x Henderson!Female!Reader

SYNOPSIS (I ADVISE YOU DO NOT READ IT IF YOU HAVEN’T READ THE 1ST PART YET): this is a Steve Harrington AU, in which after a mission gone wrong, you are thrust into a world where you’re a rising actress playing yourself in a series called Stranger Things... which retraces the past year of your life almost down to a T. Now you have to figure out what happened, but most importantly - what’s real and what isn’t.

New to the series? Try fighting Vecna here - Then wake up in 2021 here.

A/N: I don’t know where all this angst is coming from, but it’s just hitting me like a tsunami every time I sit down to write. It’s also a bit slow moving, but I promise things are going to pick up in the next few chapters! Thank you for bearing with me!

Shower has always been a kind of your thinking temple. Granted, the topics have usually evolved around “what to wear to your shift at Hideaway to avoid giving ideas to handsy assholes” or “are demodogs’ blood and saliva toxic to the skin”, and not, you know “what a girl to do stuck in some parallel universe after dying in her own world”.

At least there was some consistency in the way common sense gradually seeped out of your thoughts as time progressed; much like water swirling down the drain at your feet.

Hot streams hitting your head and shoulders like needles, you spent at least twenty whole minutes studying your body - or rather, what it could have been if Upside Down has never existed. Your skin was soft and lovely to the touch, no scar tissue in sight. If it weren’t for the bluish bruise on your right knee, you would probably feel overwhelmed by the unnaturalness of it all. Marks on your body were what you were used to; never in your wildest dreams you would have thought that this ugly blue patch of skin would help you to hold on to some kind of sanity; confirming that amidst of it all, you were still you.

The wound on your forehead also stung a little when the water first washed over it; and you actually felt thankful for the pain, the sharpness of it grounding you - making you feel alive.

Last time you were in your world, you were dying of a blood loss. As far as you’re aware, you died of blood loss, in Steve’s arms.

So now, you’re what, undead? Reincarnated? Worst case scenario, you would expect yourself to come back to life as a cockroach or - if karma was really out to get you - Tommy H. But now that you’re here, surrounded by the faces you love with minds you know nothing of - you decide, that maybe, there is a fate worse than waking up as a raging asshole one day. Maybe, the scariest of all is to wake up as yourself - with the people you cherish most in the world not knowing who you really are.

You refuse to dwell on it too much - on how your entire world turned upside down in a matter of hours. Now is not the time to grieve, because you haven’t given up yet. Once again, you find yourself being a woman on a mission.

If there is a way out, you’ll find it. Whatever it effing takes. You need to understand exactly what happened - and that without raising any more suspicions. You need to blend in - the last thing you want is to end up in a white room with cushioned walls. So no chance of “I’m from some kind of a parallel universe in which Vecna is real and out for blood” being a conversation starter.

The thought that you might still be stuck in the Upside Down, with this entire world being a figment of your imagination and one of Vecna’s ways to torture you did cross your mind. But then, if you were, in fact, unconscious, would you be feeling any physical pain?

And, come on, replacing Steve Levi’s Straight Leg Harrington by Joe Hug Your Ass Fit Keery is very much outside of your realm of imagination.

When you return back to your room, the Steve / Joe is still nowhere in sight. Turning on the lights and trading a skimpy silk pyjamas you found under your pillow for an oversized gray t-shirt, dug up from the dirty laundry, you collect every single piece of information you can find in the room; some of it useless; some of it not - and dump it on your bed for further investigation.

What looks like the most important finding of all is a bounded stack of papers with August 8, 2021 etched upon it, the one your eyes found at the foot of the bed earlier. Marked, dog-eared, with coffee stains here and there, it’s a story filled with dialogs. It’s the Stranger Things script.

Just as you’re about to turn over the first page, the soft knock on the door calls for your attention.

“Come in”, you beckon Joe in, without taking your eyes off the starring actor’s list of names.

(Keery’s sound of steps is exactly the same as Steve’s, down to the last tap.)

Finn Wolfhard. Millie Bobby Brown. Sadie Sink. Maya Hawke - your eyes devour words off paper.

All of these names mean shit to you. But the names right next to them: Mike Wheeler, Eleven / Jane Hopper, Robin Buckley… These are the names of the people you would kill to see again. Steve Harrington - Joe Keery.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” the man of the hour breaks you out of your thoughts, before they can send you spiralling downward towards all of the things - people - that you’ve lost.

Biting the inside of your cheeks, you tear your gaze away from the printed words, and venture a look at him.

Joe has changed clothes and taken a shower. His hair is still a little wet, and he’s wearing a simple molten brown cotton shirt this time with a pair of light grey joggers, the elastic of his underwear showing.

And you are definitely not staring.

“Like I’m still here,” you lay the sarcasm on real thick, hoping it takes the attention off the way you just gawked at him. “All tucked in, like a big girl, see?” You gesture towards your blanket-covered legs with a snicker.

A mischievous smile flickers across his face, and it has you stalling again, reminding yourself that he is not Steve.

“Well, don’t expect me to be impressed. Now, once I see you eat with a spoon and all…”

His words startle a chortle out of you.

“Oh, I’m a menace with a spoon”, you inform him zealously, raising your chin to look at him, only to find him already staring back, sparkles from the fairy lights above your bed dancing in his eyes.

“Oh really?” he folds his hands over his chest, as if deciding to indulge you for a minute. Bastard, you think, you’re enjoying this as much as I do. “I couldn’t tell. Not with all the ice cream you demolished on the set of Scoops Ahoy”.

Before his mentioning of the Starcourt can weigh on your chest and spin your mind down the memory lane and a never-ending sequence of million questions (how does he know about Starcourt?!), he drops the backpack you didn’t realise he was carrying on the floor and fishes something out of it.

“Prove it”.

Your eyes grow wide as you read the words on the pot of ice-cream he’s holding.

“Is that- Is that Cherry Garcia?!” you just blink at him in shock, momentarily forgetting where you are and who you’re with, “No way”.

All you see is Steve shrugging as he squats in front of you, so that your eyes can meet on the same level.

You feel a shooting pain rip through your chest, something awful; but it isn’t the reason you feel pressure grow behind your eyes.

“If you don’t want it, then…” he pretends to want to take the pot away from you, drawing his hand back; and before you know it, your fingers wrap around his wrist, and you are snatching the ice-cream out of his relaxed hand, his smiling eyes watching you closely.

You press the icy thing to your chest; it frostbites your skin through the t-shirt, but you barely take notice. All you can do is stare at this man before you - close enough to touch and yet so far to do it - because you know he is not Steve; but for a briefest of instants, it almost feels like it’s just you and him, on your regular Movie Night Thursday, with his shitty parents inexistent, as always. Almost like you’re together again.

This Joe person is going to be the death of you - provided that you aren’t dead already.

“What?” he asks as he stands up, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, unblinking eyes fixed on you.

“Nothing,” you quickly retort, dropping your gaze to the script, still laying next to your thigh. You clear your throat, tears pulsing in the back of it, just to fill the silence.

Joe slides a spoon into your lap without a word, and you bite down on your bottom lip with all your might.

He’s not Steve. He’s not Steve. He’s not…

“So here’s the plan,” he derails your train of repetitive self-conviction, making an effort to sound nonchalant. “I’ll sleep on the floor - kind of like a guard dog. If there’s anything you need, just, I don’t know, kick me?”

A watery laugh escapes you as you look up a him, and you pray he doesn’t notice how painful it sounds.

“I’ll try to remember not to step on you tomorrow morning”, you promise him, your gazes lingering on each other again.

Joe rubs his bottom lip with the very tip of his thumb; there’s certain softness to the air around the two of you - thick and zephyr-like, all sweetness and gelatin. The two of you are paralyzed, and you’re not sure if it’s the intimacy, in which you’ve slipped so briskly; or the terror of losing control over the rapid thumping of pulse at the base of your necks.

“So uh- What are you reading there?” Joe asks shortly, and then thinking it a bit abrupt, adds: “Anything interesting?” You watch him kick his ass into gear and start unfolding some kind of a thin foam mattress he produced from his backpack. He lays it parallel to your bed, and you get the feeling that he is desperate to keep himself busy right now. He doesn’t look at you.

You almost tell him that he doesn’t need to do this; that there is enough room for both of you in your bed; but you bite your tongue. Steve is a friend - Joe is a stranger, you have to remind yourself again. Harmless, maybe - but still a stranger.

“I was just-”, you flip through the pages in your lap, rubbing the tip of you nose. “Refreshing the memories, I guess”.

You feel Joe approach to take a better look at the papers - and then you’re hit with the smell of him, musc, something spicy, and velvety. It goes to your head.

He grunts.

“Cool. Although I don’t think the Duffers are going to let you in on Stage 3 just yet. Don’t get me wrong, Lovebug, but with your stitches,” he motions around his own forehead with his pointer finger - “you look like you went against Vecna - and lost”.

You would have laughed at how close to the truth he actually came if you paid attention. But everything that comes after Lovebug gets lost in the roar of blood in your ears.

The pet name rips an almost visceral reaction out of you. Maybe it’s because it sounds so well-used, like his lips have been saying it for ages. Maybe, it’s because he looks exactly like Steve, your Steve. Or maybe, it’s because you know that he’s all you have now, and that you may never see, touch or talk to your Steve again.

“How long-“, you suddenly feel like you need to learn how to speak again, letter by letter. “How long have I been unconscious, exactly?”

Joe studies you carefully. He’s weighting his words. “Long enough to give us all a scare of our lifetime, for sure”, he finally ends up saying, and you know he means it by the way the electric lights reflect in his dark eyes, stark white on spotless black. “A couple of hours, give or take”, he nods his head, pressing his lips together in a thin line.

“The longest couple of hours of my life”, he adds in a murmur after a pause, looking away.

Before you can even begin to unpack the meaning of it, he scratches the back of his head, his cheeks turning peony pink.

“I, uh- “, he swallows. “I brought some groceries for you,” he gestures behind his back towards the kitchen. “I’m going to go and put them away in the fridge. Call me if you need me?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, and drop your gaze back to the script, refusing to watch him linger for a second at the foot of your bed. When he leaves, you drop your head down, taking a deep breath.

You close your eyes for a moment, and give yourself a pep-talk. One, he’s not Steve. Two, you’re a woman on a mission. Three - you need to find a way out.

And so, with a renewed sense of determination and a spoonful of ice-cream, you begin to read.

Your skin is glistening in the warm afternoon sun. The car window is rolled open; gentle breeze caressing your cheeks and twirling the ends of your still-wet hair around your head in cheery pirouettes. You look up, watching the wide blue expanse of the cloudless sky; your brother’s light snoring from the back seat mixing eerily well with the soft music flowing out the car speakers.

“I can’t believe they’re finally asleep,” you hear Steve whisper as he makes a right turn into your street. His eyes are fixed on the road, the corners of his lips turned up in amusement. “Do you think it was the canoe that knocked them out or-“

“Oh, it was definitely the burrito”, you don’t let him finish, grinning at him. “I’m pretty sure Dustin still has avocado on his cheek”.

Steve whips his head back at your words, and his eyes spot Dustin tucked in between Mike and Lucas; surely enough, there is a smudge of squashed avocado just above the right corner of his lips.

Steve turns back to face you with those big chocolate eyes, and you exchange glances that test your self-control. Before either one of you can burst out in gloriously loud laughter, you look away from each other; you’re going as far as pressing the back of your hand to your lips. When Steve’s BMW finally comes to a halt in your driveway, your house looks boring and stale; nothing like the fun day you just spent with Lucas, Mike, Dustin Will and Steve at the Lover’s lake.

You never want this to end.

As you un-click your seatbelt, you turn to face Steve; he’s already looking at you with a nostalgic air - like he’s already missing you. “So uh- how did the whole re-looking of the attic go?” He is a man catching at straws, and you are more than happy to lend him a hand. Neither of you wants to leave the peacefulness of the car with the kids sleeping in the backseat just yet. That’s what you’re telling yourselves, at least - when in reality - neither of you wants to say goodbye. “The colors turned out okay?”

A smile slowly grows on your lips, a ring of an idea going off in your head.

“Do you want to check it out?” you whisper back, feeling a bit giddy. “Give Dusty 5 more minutes to sleep?”

Steve’s eyebrows pop up, almost reaching his hairline. His mouth falls slightly open, and he’s nodding a bit frantically.

“Um- Yeah, sure. Let’s check it out”.

The two of you get out of the car, trying not to make too much noise. You feel the squishy grass mattress underneath your sandals; when you reach the porch, Steve is hot in your tracks. Your Mom isn’t home yet, so you open up the door with a soft click and silently beckon Steve to follow you to the stairs. The steps on the way to the attic grow narrower. Your foot almost slips once, so you grab the railing, your palm landing squarely on Steve’s fingers. Your back touches his shoulder, and he’s quick to stabilise you with his hand on your hips.

“Easy now”, he whispers in your ear and something goes off in your chest, like a firework.

In five more steps, you make it to the attic. You swing open the door and the sight is beautiful, the room bathing in the sunlight coming through the open window.

“Huh”, Steve lets out in surprise. “I wasn’t sure about this sunflower explosion color, but I guess it works”.

That’s right. You and Dustin have painted the floors of the attic in rich, almost golden yellow.

“Thanks to your advice to use a primer, I think it actually looks even better than in a can”, you share in delight, looking around, your hands on your hips.

Steve nods, making his way further into the attic to look at the walls of the room.

“And what color are you going to paint the w-“

A breaking sound echos in the mostly empty space. A woof escapes Steve’s chest as he crumbles on the ground, you rushing to help him stay up, but falling on your ass right behind him instead.

You can’t explain why, but a contagious laugh falls off your lips as you spot Steve’s foot, buried in a hole in wooden floor. He seems to notice his predicament at the same moment - rolling back, leaning into you, with his other foot in the air, he laughs, and laughs, and laughs: until your voices are uproarious sounds of joy, your bodies touching. You look at him from above as his head presses against your chest - and you can’t help but giggle as soon as your eyes meet.

“Are you-“ you are fighting for breath trying to grip Steve’s shoulders to bring him into somewhat sitting position. “Are you okay?” You can’t help another melodious giggle that squeezes it’s way through your lips, and you slap a palm of your hand over your mouth.

“I’m sorry I’m laughing”, you manage through laughter wrecking your body. “This isn’t even remotely funny. Are you okay?” As he sits down, his upper body facing you, you reach out to him again, your palm lying flat on his chest.

He is still a chuckling mess as he looks back at you; his hand covers yours as he bends forward, unable to resist another urge to laugh out loud.

“I just made a giant hole in your floor!” he exclaims, wiping the tears under his eyes as you let go of him, the absence of his warmth feeling foreign. He gestures to his foot. “I- I swear I can fix it. I can maybe stop by tomorrow-“

“Steve,” you try to interrupt him, your hand landing on his shoulder in what’s meant to be a reassuring gesture.”You’re fine, you don’t have to-“

“-I have to fix this, I have to-“

“Steve!” You raise your voice a little bit and make a “stop it” face at him, which shuts him up almost immediately.

“Okay”, he says, his face still lit up. “But you gotta tell me how much I owe you for this shit”, he picks up a piece of wood from the floor and waves it around, making your guffaw.

When he stretches out a hand to you, you take it. His skin is a little dry and calloused, as his thumb draws a circle at the base of your forefinger. The two of you stand up, your gazes locked, your digits intertwined.

“I uh- I better go,” Steve says, not making the slightest effort to step away.

“Stay for early dinner”, you blurt out, not letting go of his hand either. “I can whip up a mean frozen pizza.” Steve’s gaze softens, another sweep of his thumb on your hand setting your skin on fire.

“Alright, yeah, frozen pizza sounds good. I’m gonna go wake the dipshits, because they certainly wouldn’t want to miss it”, he drops his gaze and lets go of you to scratch the back of his neck. “You’ll be alright, manning the stove?”

You roll your eyes at him playfully.

“I’m a big girl, Steve. I tie my own shoelaces and everything”, you tell him enthusiastically.

He responds with a huff.

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” he parries, winking at you. He backs out of the room, his body still facing yours. “Call me if you need me?”

You wake up fighting for breath.

You chest feels too small, too fragile and too hot, as your hand slaps against the papers by your pillow with a flop; you’re trying to stay upright, but your shoulders shudder at every intake of air.

“Hey,” you hear a familiar voice, as you see someone’s silhouette emerge from the floor in the dark. “Hey, hey, hey, you’re okay. You’re okay, I’m here“.

Just for a fleeting moment - you believe it’s Steve.

But then you can feel Joe’s hand squeeze your shoulder as he sits on the edge of the bed by your side, his dark worried eyes shimmering in the moonlight - the two of them look so much alike, but the illusion is gone as your brain sobers up.

You make out his furrowed eyebrows, the outline of his nose with a slight bump and the curve of his neck - and you know he’s not Steve, but you can’t help but slowly move closer to him anyway. Joe doesn’t ask any questions, just wraps his hands around you, as you press your forehead against his firm chest.

“You’re okay, Love”, he whispers again and again, and you let his voice drown the dream out; it wipes out the vision of Steve’s smile, and his ridiculous need to always fix everything. “Whatever it was, it was just a dream”.

You don’t know for how long you stay in this position; Joe doesn’t complain, just holds you in the silent and dark room.

At some point, you’re slipping down on your bed again, your back turned to Joe, facing the wall. You squeeze your eyes shut as you’re trying to keep your breathing in check. It’s when you feel him gently pull the blanket higher up your shoulders, and hear him lie back down on his makeshift bed - that you let the silent tears roll.

When you open your eyes again, you are momentarily lost. Nothing in the room speaks to you; until you push off the bed to look around, and your palm comes in contact with the paper of the Stranger Things script.

Memories click quickly into place, conjured by your sleep-deprived mind and you groan, falling back onto your pillow, face first.

You have no notion of time anymore. After having dreamt of better days - having dreamt of Steve - sleep was out of the question, so you spent the rest of the night finishing reading the script. You could swear the sun was rising, its early morning rays bleeding through the curtains, when you finally reached the end.

Sitting down and drawing your knees to your chest, you swallow hard as Steve’s laughter from your dream rings in your ears; you squeeze your eyes shut and drop your head, trying to make the sound go away. It’s too much for you right now, and you can’t let it take over your mind. If you do, you’ll fall into pieces, and you do not have the luxury to do so right now. You need to be laser-focused on the mission - as in understanding what exactly happened and finding your way back.

If you were hoping that the script would help you figure this all out - man, you were in for a surprise. Just when you thought that there was nothing that could rock your boat at this point - you literally got transported into some kind of a parallel universe? future? where your friends and family’s doppelgängers shoot a show about your life - it freaking got overturned, and now you’re feeling like you’re drowning, not having a clue what you’re even supposed to feel anymore.

The Stranger Things script turned out to be an almost perfect recollection of what happened to you during the past week. The feeling is unsettling, as you got insights into conversations you weren’t even a part of, but you are pretty sure the way they’re described in the script is exactly how they went.

It’s like being a spectator, a powerless observer - of your own goddamn life.

There were a lot of things that left you in different degrees of stupefied as you progressed with your reading - the biggest of them being, Vecna did not die at the end. But then again, neither did you.

This is where the two stories differ - in the show, you don’t get a chance to pierce Vecna’s heart with a blade because Steve Harrington holds you back. Robin tries to stall Henry Slash Vecna Slash One by throwing another Molotov cocktail at him; just the time Nancy needs to recharge her makeshift gun and fire, sending Vecna falling through the wall and onto the ground outside.

And the fucker somehow survives.

So, in the show, you make it. But Max doesn’t. All that’s left of her is her body, a shell, and her mind is either dead or gets swallowed by a place even Eleven can’t reach.

What if, you think, too dazed to even begin to understand what this would mean, what if that’s what happened to you? What if you’re in a sort of a suspended situation - half dead, half alive - and none of this is real?

And most importantly - how the hell do you figure this out for sure?

You’re not yet ready to admit defeat and succumb to the terrifying thought that maybe, Y/N Henderson has never really existed; maybe, you are what everybody here believes you to be - a girl with a weird-ass name and ambitious acting career aspirations who took the “acting” part too far and fell one sandwich short of a picnic. Maybe, your name is really Love and you have achieved a truly fucking monumental level of unstable in life after that unfortunate fall.

The idea should be freaking you the hell out - you know that. All it does is drive you up the wall instead. This has got to be the biggest “fuck you” Vecna has managed to pull off so far. A parting gift that keeps on giving. After attempting to kill you, he has done everything he could to put you in a place where you would doubt your own fucking existence - let alone the existence of the people you love. All of those memories, feelings - are what? A product of Love’s insanity? Crazed visions of demented imagination?

Fuck you, Vecna. Fuck you, buddy.

This is the fight you are not going to win.

Huffing in frustration, you throw your legs over the edge of the bed, full of restless energy. As you let your gaze dart around, you notice that Joe is gone. The room is empty, no sign of him ever having been there in sight.

It’s better off this way, you decide as you get on your feet and head for the kitchen. No time for distractions. You need a plan, fast. God knows for how long your brain is going to be able to take this, before it finally gives up and prays for a solitary. Stage one - coffee. There’s gotta be coffee in this place / universe / world, right? You’d need at least that to brave whatever’s going on outside of the confines of the trailer.

Stage two - recon, or information gathering. You are now pretty comfortable with all the strangers’ names; here’s to hoping that all of them look like their real counterparts. Whether you want it or not, you have to face them, if only to learn exactly what happened yesterday.

And, finally, stage three - concocting an exit strategy. If there is a way out, you’ll find it. If not, you’ll die trying (yay, you think, something new and different for you).

When you reach the kitchen, you freeze by the table, your eyes fixed on a coffee machine that looks a bit more modern than the one in your home.

Okay, maybe a lot more modern, like a goddamn robotic experiment - but that’s not what staggers you. There’s hot coffee in the glass recipient, and a bright red sticker is glued to its surface.

Thought you could use some after staying late last night. Your phone is charging in the bathroom in case you’re looking for it. - Joe.

And here you thought he has fallen asleep by the time you turned the night light on to continue to "read” (as in spy on your own fucking life, broken into dialogue sequences and words like “menacing industrial synth music playing” thrown in here and there).

You try not to think too much about it - and by it you mean Joe’s subtle way of taking care of you - like it’s a reflex, a given - as you move closer to pour yourself a cup of burning liquid.

A soul-shaking BANG! of the entrance door in front of you comes as an excellent exclamation point to end your mind’s misplaced wandering before it could even begin. The door hits the wall with such force, you jump out of your skin and all the way to the ceiling, screaming and grabbing a remote control from the kitchen isle, holding it in front of you like a knife.

There’s a tall girl with sandy hair and a fringe standing in the entrance, grimacing at the sound of your shriek, squeezing her eyes shut. You heart thumps painfully in your chest, and you cry out before you can think twice about it:

“Robin, what the hell?! You scared the shit out of me!” You throw the remote back where you found it, burying your face in your hands, trying to level out your breathing.

A giggle escapes girl’s rosy lips as she scrunches her nose apologetically, stepping all the way into your kitchen. Making herself at home, she slides a sugary-smelling cardboard box on the table and jumps in for a hug without a second thought.

The second her arms wrap around you, the anger escapes you. You’re completely silenced as shock takes over; this isn’t Robin - but the girl looks exactly like her.

You probably should have gotten used to it by now.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you”, she mumbles in your ear as she squeezes you harder. “It’s just- My hands were occupied so I kicked the door in”.

Softly pushing you at an arms length, Maya (you recall) searches your face for a moment.

“Still doing that method acting thing, I see?” she smiles at you, and the room suddenly seems bigger. “It’s you who scared the shit out of me, Lovebug. Don’t you dare- Don’t you do this ever again!” With these worlds, she pulls you into another hug, and you let her, despite your inner woman on a mission screaming in protest.

Just as Robin, Maya hugs with her entire body. There’s a comforting presence about her that puts you at ease, the kind you only feel around people you have known for your entire life - or with whom you fought to stay alive, side by side.

You can’t tell whether it’s because the girl just looks like Robin - or because there’s something else there. Tiny, slithery doubt worms its way intro your fragile mind, as much as you don’t want to let it. You don’t know her - but it sure feels like you do and have done so - for a very long time.

When she releases you, she takes a moment to study you - it’s a caring look of a friend who has been there for you for years.

“That”, she points to your forehead, her eyes glowing with reassurance. “Will heal fast”.

“I’ve seen worse”, you mutter under you nose, remembering how a demogorgon slashed your side open at Byer’s when Nancy and Jonathan decided it was a good idea to lure the goddamn thing in.

“I brought you donuts”, she chases the memory away as soon as it pops in your head, nudging the carton box open and letting the smell of sugar spread. “I don’t have any work scheduled until later today and you weren’t answering any of my messages on WhatsApp, so I decided to swing by”.

There is so much for you to question in that sentence, you decide to focus on what you think matters.

“And by work you mean…?”

“Shooting that mental hospital scene with Natalia. Since we can’t have you for the Upside Down forest part today”, she answers easily, pushing the box towards you. “I brought your favorites too. Dig in”.

With ease that suggests that she’s been here a thousand of times before, she moves forward, sidesteps you, produces two cups out of a hanging kitchen cabinet. She stops dead in her tracks as soon as she turns to grab the coffee.

She noticed the sticker, you realize, and are surprised at the blush creeping up your neck.

“Joe told me you were feeling better last night”, she smiles at you knowingly, pouring you both a cup of coffee after a beat. “Quinn looked relieved when he heard him say it. I think he’s going to pay you a visit today, too”, you don’t think you imagine the suggestiveness of her tone.

Internally, you throw your head back and groan.

Riiight. Joseph Quinn. Aka Eddie Munson.

It wasn’t that hard to put two and two together, especially when he was all everybody was in such a hurry to talk to you about. Is Love - you - dating Eddie - Joseph? Well, does a Demogorgon shit in Upside Down?

It’s either that or you’re some kind of best buddies. Or fuck buddies perhaps?

So many goddamn options, and you are mentally prepared for neither.

“I was going to go see him,” you lie unabashedly, grabbing what looks like a caramel-glazed donut from the box, looking at Maya like you’ve got nothing to hide.

“Oh, he’s free now”, she offers cheerfully, and you curse this world six ways to Sunday in your head. Here goes your plans to avoid this version of Eddie Munson until you’re out of here. “He must be chilling with Gaten at the water station. The filming of their next scene starts in like, an hour. He’ll be so happy to see that you’re okay. Yeah, why don’t you go change so we can pop by? I’d hate for you guys to-”

You can’t seem to put a word in the edgewise. Maya rambles on and on, extremely eager to get your ass out the door and into Joe Quinn’s arms…

Or is that what she wants you to believe?

You’ve seen enough at your job as a bartender at Hideaway to know when people are lying - or hiding something. Hell, you called bullshit on Nancy and Jonathan pretending they were just friends even before they knew they weren’t. And don’t even let you started on Dustin trying to pretend like Mews ran away (although, to be fair, it was Steve’s inability to hide a single thing from you that earned you the truth).

Fact of the matter is, your girl Maya here is hiding something. The jury is still out on what exactly.

You listen to her for one more minute; exactly the time it takes for you to finish the donut.

“Why are you pushing this?” is all you say, narrowing your eyes at her intently.

You know you’re right on the money when Maya stutters and goes silent. She actually has the decency to look guilty as she puts her cup to a side with a sigh.

When she looks back at you, you’re somewhat taken aback by the genuine concern seeping out of her big eyes.

“Okay, before you say anything, I know your sex life is none of my business-”

You feel the shock register on your face as your eyebrows swish up, reaching your hairline. Stunned into silence - again - you realize your brain cogs are not turning fast enough for this conversation. In the meantime, Maya goes on:

“-but you are my best friend, and-“

“What in the ever-loving world are you talking about?” you measure your words, fighting an inability to compute.

Her face grows ashamed.

“You and Joe K!” she squeaks, and your stomach drops.

Woah. Hold on. Rewind. Play it again.

Something must have changed in your expression, because Maya steps closer and throws herself into yet another never-ending ramble:

“Please, Love, hear me out”, she begs, standing in front of you with conviction. “I’ll say this once more and then I will shut up for eternity, okay? Joseph Quinn is hot,” she asserts, like it’s universal truth. “Just because I don’t ship you guys together doesn’t mean I’m blind, alright? And I guess he’s really smitten with you, and you kind of look cute together… Like, I don’t know?” She throws her hands into the air and you step back to avoid getting smacked, your eyes huge in your face. “Kind of like a baby holding a kitten? Super PG-13. And then there’s you and Keery”, she smiles like she can’t help it. “The looks you give each other! I feel turned on, and I’m not even a part of the interaction! Standing between you two is a suicide mission - without meaning to, you are crushing everything that keeps you from each other. That’s like soulmate-level shit right there, okay?” she bites her lip, exasperated. “I just thought maybe, since you wanted him to stay with you last night, you have finally-“

“Nothing happened between us!” you finally burst out, waving your hands as if trying to stop her words from reaching you - shielding yourself from them.

“Well, not yet!” Maya parries, without skipping a beat. “But it will. And when it does, do you really want see Quinn’s heart shatter into a million pieces, because of what everybody knew was going to happen all along?”

You wish you had more time to compartmentalize everything - starting with her words and ending with your own feelings on the topic - to pull a practical reaction out of the variety of all the available ones.

But you don’t - so naturally, the words that come out next are laced with emotion. You don’t even know anymore if you are playing along, or if it’s a genuine concern, falling off your pale lips.

“Who knows?” you ask, defeated.

“Knows that you have feelings for Keery? That you belong with him?” just like Robin, Maya doesn’t shy away from speaking her mind. “Gaten. Me. Joe, obviously”, she rolls her eyes. “Both Joes, actually, and the two of them are in deep denial. Sees?” she points out mercilessly. “Everybody else”.

Great. That’s- That’s great.

You’d think you drowned puppies in your previous life in Hawkins, that’s how bad of a bitch karma is being to you right now.

If someone were to tell you a couple of weeks ago you’d be stuck in a love triangle with Steve “The Hair” Harrington and Eddie “The Freak” Munson you would have laughed your ass off, rolling on the floor, and then advised them to get their heads checked - in that order. Now - you’re feeling strangely emotional about the problem that isn’t your own - technically speaking, they’re not in love with you. They’re in love with, well, Love. But why the hell are you feeling like this is somehow your fault? And, even worse - like you are torn between the two, when you know fucking neither?!

Your mind frantically inspects its thoughts for a reasonable explanation. It’s because it’s Joe - who walks, talks, jokes and cares like Steve does. And also, because, it is, effectively, your problem now.

“If it’s because of the age gap…” Maya speaks again - or, rather, huffs in disapproval.

“Age gap”, you parrot back to her stupidly, unblinking. Excuse me?

“Well, Keery’s what? Thirty?” she squirms as if trying to remember. “Ah, I Googled this just yesterday!”

You watch her produce that weird thin metallic device out of her pocket and tap something on a lit up surface; nothing registers - or so you think - except for the uncontrollable screaming in your head.

This world’s Steve is thirty fucking years old.

If there’s a time for you to wake up, now would be ideal - before you explode in a fit of hysterical laughter - and get locked up for life.

“Called it!” Maya confirms triumphantly, tucking what appears to be her phone away in her pocket. “And you’re 21 on Friday. So if it’s the age gap that you’re worried about, whatever Joe you pick it’s pretty much the same.”

You catch yourself thinking you’d rather not know how old this world’s Eddie is. Save some brain cells.

“Okay, I’ll talk to Ed- Joe. Quinn”, you try name after name, scrambling for the right one, just wishing for this conversation to end. “Tomorrow?” you suggest, and your voice sounds a lot like you’re begging. “What day is it today, again?”

Maya eyes you disapprovingly.

“It’s Wednesday,” she says somewhat drily. “I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation, Love. It’s your birthday in two days. Quinn has-“

“Dude”, you cut her mid-sentence. “I don’t think I understand anything”.

And isn’t that the God’s honest truth.

The tension in Maya’s shoulders drops at the sight of you. God, you must look like a train just hit you. Confused, pathetic and almost physically sick. No wonder her eyes soften and she reaches out to squeeze your shoulder.

“Gonna sound like a cliché,” she warns, “But what does your heart tell you?”

That I need a goddamn drink.

“That it’s over”, you admit, feeling like you’re ruining someone’s life. “Between Ed- Quinn and me. It has to be”.

There is no way in the world - whatever world you are in - you can pretend that you’re in love with Eddie Munson, that much is clear. If there’s a sure way to blow your cover - it’s to pretend you’re carrying a torch for him, when, clearly, you are hung up on somebody else.

The thought makes you pause, your mind going silent. You feel your heart flutter gently in your chest.

Somebody else. Ever since the shit has hit the fan, the inner voice has been stubbornly bringing you back to everything Steve every time it got the chance, and now it-

Doesn’t?

Your stomach flips, the sensation catching you off guard. The emptiness that settles in the pit of it at the realisation is almost enough to shut down your brain.

This is what fear feels like. You recognise the signs. For the first time in a very long time, you are scared.

With the alien feeling clutching your very being in its cold, clawing hands, you are still brave enough to admit that in the world where he only exists on paper and on camera - unlike Joe - you are fighting to hold on to Steve.

And while you spare no effort - you’re not sure for how long you’ll last.

My (stunning, beautiful, fantastic) tag list: @vulgarfuckinvirgo, @carpediem1219, @555stargirl555, @rqmanoff, @mvaldez7821, @sundarksposts, @the-winter-spider, @flicksturz, @theghostpeach

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington au #stranger things imagine #stranger things au #Steve Harrington x female reader

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sokoalex · 3 years ago

Text

sign of the invisible times

summary: "You have made the mistake of praying after dark to the same God and with cruelty, he granted the same wish as he did others before you."

One of your greatest life regrets leads you to her. Isn't life funny?

pairing: wanda maximoff x reader

warnings: none for this chapter. let me know if I need to add any!

words: 2184

authors note: influenced by V.E. Schwab's "The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue"

January 18, 1917

This was a different point in time. You would hardly recognize it from your point of view now. Your ears filled with the sound of glasses clinking and the buzz of conversations around you. Yet you find yourself alone in a chair and the anxiety of sitting still is overwhelming. It has been too long since you’ve taken a seat at the bar. It has been too long, time is passing, and here you are doing nothing. Time is passing and you are doing nothing. Your body is burning a hole in the chair you’re sitting in, the walls are someway somehow closing in and you find your lungs desperately yearning for air.

Before you know it, your legs are carrying you out the door. Your knees hit the snow and you’re silently praying for time to do more. To be more. But the January air is cold and the silence that comes with it is almost taunting. You find yourself filled with rage, screaming, and begging just to be heard. By anyone. Anything. And finally, you hear him in the shadows.

He doesn’t step out, no shape to carry him. He asks you to recite your prayers again. You have made the mistake of praying after dark to the same God and with cruelty, he granted the same wish as he did others before you. A life that seems to go on without an end. You are a small blip on the radar. A fraction of time in strangers' lives, existing in the same moment until their backs are turned. Before you know it, the blip is gone. You’re gone, never having existed to them.

January 18, 2017

January was cold and harsh, very much like your former lovers. Every year for the past century, he has visited you. It's always the same day, but never the same time. He keeps you on your toes. Every year on this day, you have a date with the Devil. Yes, the Devil himself. Though you have never seen his true form. He takes a liking to taunting you with images of your loved ones. Your foolish heart has never learned to differentiate them.

Every anniversary is the same. He asks you for your soul and in the same cruel manner that he granted your wish, you say no. Just to spite him. The past hundred years you have spent living on this earth have been anything but what you asked for. Because what is a life without shelter and people to call your own? Nothing ever lasts, but his annual visits. The loneliness that comes with never being able to be remembered eventually starves you for his presence. Yet the less you comply, the crueler he gets.

Recently, he has been enjoying your torture. He's managed to deceive you more than he already has. The previous year, he took the shape of the barista at the local cafe. When you approached the counter he greeted you by your current alias and recited your order back to you. The rush of excitement coursed through your veins. Your eyes stung with tears. Someone finally remembered you. Or so you believed. A wicked smile spread across his face and it hit you. You knew that smile all too well. It haunted your dreams, it invaded your thoughts. The smile belonged to the one thing you despised so much.

He did this every so often, but you’re so starved of real human connection. Yet you should know better. The cells in your body should know better than to get comfortable. There is only one place where you truly feel safe, and that is the library. He would never go there. That you were sure of.

March 6, 2017

The library was closing in less than ten minutes and you had a book to return. It was due today. There would be consequences if you returned it tomorrow. Or at least karmic repercussions. That is if karma remembers you at all. Your shoes were hitting the pavement, the book tucked safely under your arm. The library was in your line of sight now. Just as you were nearing the entrance, your head whipped at the sound of a taxi driver honking at a cyclist. You were about to turn your head when your body collided with another one, sending books flying.

Your hands scramble to gather the books and you hand them to their owner. A pair of beautiful green eyes greet you when you look up. She is the first new kind of beauty you have seen in all your lifetimes. Brown locks cascade along her face, accentuating her rosy cheeks against the cold air. Her lips turn into a shy smile that sends a shock to your system. Before you can speak, she’s apologizing profusely. A smile crosses your lips and you nod, accepting her unnecessary apology. It was clearly your fault, but you walk away because the high is never worth the fall.

The book is shoved to the back of your mind, the library will be there tomorrow. Your feet were once again hitting the pavement but at a much slower pace. Thoughts of the beautiful young woman invade your walk home.

The city lights flicker on and you continue down the all familiar path. Your shoulders slumped, walking with the knowledge that she will never remember you, but you will always remember her eyes. Not once in all your existence, had you seen eyes quite like hers.

March 7, 2017

It's the dawn of a new day and your shoulder is aching from yesterday's events. Your sleep-filled eyes trail towards the window across the room. Much to your dismay, the sun is already splitting the horizon.

The more time that you spend sleeping, the more time that you waste. There was never enough time or peace in the world for the anxiety to go away. Regardless of how much you do during the day, it never seems to be enough.

Small curses escape your lips as you will yourself to shower. As you stand under the hot water, your body relaxes and the pain in your left shoulder subsides. Your head tips backward to let the water run through your hair. In the quiet of the shower, your eyes close, soaking up the peaceful, serene feeling.

When you arrive at the library, Mable, the librarian is sitting behind her computer. Her moon-shaped glasses rest on the tip of her nose. You know exactly what she’s doing. She’s looking through the logs of past due books. Surely by this time, the book in your hands is on that list. Except next to it, there would be no name.

Another punishment from him. There was no way to introduce yourself. The words simply would never make it off your tongue, the syllables shoved back down your throat. Your name only exists in your brain, your appearance is only known to you as a reflection in the mirror. There would never be a picture of you for the world to see.

You approach the front desk with a warm smile on your face, “Excuse me,” your eyes gently squinting as if you were reading her name tag, “Mable.”

The librarian looks away from the screen to greet you. “Yes, dear. How can I help you?” she asks softly. You raise the book so she could see. “It looks like someone forgot this book right outside,” you explain. “I wanted to return it before someone else took it.”

Mable’s eyes widened suddenly, pushing herself away from her chair. She reaches out for the book gently, caressing the cover with her hands. “Oh! Thank you. I was just taking a look here and I was wondering how we were ever going to get it back without a name!” she exclaims.

You chuckle softly, “Of course, Mrs. Mable. Enjoy your day,” you say as you walk away towards the sea of shelves. After so many visits to the library, you knew exactly what to say and do to elicit these reactions from the kind librarian. If you told her it was yours and you were indeed late, she would look at you skeptically before asking you to pay the fee. If you told her you found the book elsewhere, she would be grateful.

While you could’ve kept the book, it wouldn’t be right. Even lying to her felt wrong. There was a certain accountability you tried to hold yourself to. Of course, this kind of lifestyle makes it difficult to be true to yourself. You’ve had to lie and steal on most occasions just for a place to stay. You hate the lengths you have to go to just to live.

As you roam the aisles, you run your fingers along the spines of the book with your eyes closed, mentally playing a game with yourself to see which book you land on. You pause after a few seconds, wrapping your fingers around the back of the mystery book.

When you open your eyes to pull the book from the shelf, you’re interrupted by a voice behind you. “How’s your shoulder doing?” the voice asks. You turn hesitantly to find the woman from yesterday.

You’re taken aback by her question, the words refusing to form in your mouth. The woman takes a cautious step towards you, extending her hand towards your head. “You didn’t bump your head, did you?”

Her hand making contact with your head brings you back to reality. “ No. no. Just the shoulder,” you say, clearing your throat. “My shoulder is doing much better now, thank you.” She smiles tenderly and withdraws her hand from you.

The proximity of her made it hard for your mind to form a coherent thought. You didn’t expect her to remember your shoulder much less who you are. There was something about her that didn’t quite resemble anyone you have ever met before. You couldn’t quite pinpoint it. No way. The Devil had to be fucking with you. He was playing one of his sick games. Must've gotten tired of letting you have one special thing.

Though the telltale sign of his presence was nowhere to be seen. No wicked smile plastered on the woman's face. In fact, she was looking at you confusedly, her bottom lip tucked in between her teeth. How long had it been since you had spoken?

Unbeknownst to you, she had been studying you. Completely stumped. She had made eye contact with you and yet she was getting nothing. No thoughts, no flashbacks. To her, you were a complete mystery. She was fascinated by you. Not once had she come across someone she couldn’t read in the same way she reads a book. The book of you was full of blank pages for her. She wanted nothing more than for the words that fell from your lips to splatter like ink on the pages; to tell the story of you.

Your tongue ran over your lips in one swift movement as your hand stretched out towards her. You knew you were taking a chance here. The name you had longed to say was aching to be freed. To come from the depths of your chest out into the air and be said like a long-forgotten language. To travel from your lips and into someone’s ear like a softly sung lullaby.

“My name is y/n,” you say, the words hitting a space other than within you. The young woman took your hand in hers, gently shaking it. “Wanda,” she breathes.

“It’s nice to put a name to the shoulder!” Her chest vibrates with a small chuckle while your eyes widen in surprise. Your right hand lands on your left shoulder, gently patting it. “Oh, this fellow? No, this is Jerry,” you tease, your voice lowering as you lean towards Wanda. “If you ask me, he’s very clumsy. Always bumping into things, this guy.”

Her hand clamps over her mouth, poorly disguising the laugh that comes out. You watch her with a smile on your face. It felt nice to make someone laugh, to feel at ease with someone, and not have to constantly worry their expression would turn to confusion. It felt too good to be true, but you would hold onto it for as long as you could. No drink, no drug had ever made you feel this good.

Just then, Mable walks by and loudly shushes you, a single finger pressed against her lips. Wanda leans against the bookcase in an attempt to hide behind your body. “Is she gone?” she whispers. You nod, realizing just how close your bodies are. You clear your throat and take a step back.

“You know, you’re ruining my reputation here, y/n,” Wanda accuses jokingly. You chuckle and put your hands up in mock defense. Even if you could ruin her reputation at the library, you knew that sooner or later she would ruin you. She would be impossible to forget; almost like she was made that way. Perhaps that's something you could live with.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff fic #wanda #wanda maximoff x you #scarlet witch #elizabeth olsen #marvel imagine #wanda x y/n #wanda x reader

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chihirolovebot · 2 years ago

Note

Hiiiii so I'm the writer of The Final Piece and I am simply here to rant and rave about Sleep Awake because it's??? occupying so much of my mind it's not even funny??? I literally binged the whole thing in like 2 or 3 days and the chokehold your writing has me in is insanity. This is gonna be long I seriously hope that's okay but there's SO MUCH I wanna say! I have talked so much about all of Sleep Awake to my roommate and sister and friends that they all have practically read it second hand through me just talking about it and how much I love it. You are such a talented writer, and I'm sure you already know that, but I feel the need to tell you anyway.

Moving on!

I absolutely adore the MC you've created, their development has been SO satisfying to read, their journey into learning that it's okay to live for yourself instead of for other people just makes me sob and punch the air. It's such a relatable struggle and I love that you incorporated it into their character, it gives them a level of depth where you physically can't NOT root for them after everything they've been through.

I'm also a HUGE fan of platonic relationships (I'm asexual I can't help it I love reading about friends sm) and when I got into your fic I felt like the skies parted when the first chapter note mentioned you were also gonna focus on the platonic relationships because I WANNA BE FRIENDS WITH THEM TOO NOT JUST DATE THEM. The locker trio already had my heart but as the fic went on I slowly started to really like the MC and Maki's friendship as it developed and now other than Kiibo's and Shuichi's friendship with them she is probably my fav. I'll save all that for another time though.

Also also also the whole third trial??? Literally couldn't have asked for anything better. Seriously that was the best change to canon, from start to finish I loved every second reading it.

Every character you write feels so canon I feel like I can hear their voices in my head, it's wonderful. And don't even get me STARTED on Kokichi's characterization and his relationship with the MC. It's become so ingrained in my head that I forget that he doesn't have them in canon lmao. The almost cat and mouse game between them has me gripping the sides of my head. I went back to reread the game of Karma chapter like 15 times because it's one of my favorite scenes of theirs. They have such fun back and forth banter, and even while they are arguing I'm just sitting there reading and saying 'THEY'RE IN LOVE YOUR HONOR'.

Kokichi's struggle to trust the MC until recent chapters is being so perfectly well done, because it's EXACTLY how he would act too. Also his complete denial of having feelings for them in favor of his mission to stop the killing game??? Ugh. I could go on forever about how much I love this fic and how it's completely changed the trajectory of my life lmao, but I think I've rambled long enough. I'm sorry if this was just a lot of word vomit to read, but I have been wanting to reach out and have been so shy about it because all of this is kinda new to me. I legit have never even used Tumblr until recently, so I'm still trying to figure it all out.

Anyway! I'm always looking forward to updates from you, but please take care of yourself in the meantime <3 Thank you for writing something so wonderful, it's really something special

HI MY LOVELY im sorry this has been sitting for a minute i needed to be in a space to be able to actually write out a long thoughtful reply. so here we are!!!

first of all HI HELLO!!! i had no idea you had read sleep awake what!!! im very sorry if you've commented before because i may have forgotten because it does get a lot of comments but. honestly i just wanted to leave a nice review of ur work and then i found out you've read sleep awake!!!! insane. i cannot believe u have TALKED ABT SLEEP AWAKE in real life hello???? malfunctions. thank u so very much that is literally the highest of compliments.

im. very emotional and happy u like my mc. they r my baby considering they r basically Me but also i feel like the stuff they struggle with is general enough to be relatable to a lot of people. and i am very glad their journey resonated with you at least a little.

the platonic relationships!!! grabs u by the shoulders and shakes u like a rattle toy. OH MY GOD. yeah. yeah u get it. i jsut simply think romantic relationships r not inherently more important than friendships, and with sleep awake specifically i do not think that mc could heal and go on the journey they need to go on if they were only close with kokichi. like for sure he's a big help and big part of it, but an mc without kiibo, kaede, kirumi, shuichi, tenko, kaito and maki would literally not exist as they are now. TO BE A COMPLETE PERSON u must learn from the people around u that u love and maybe even the ones u hate. i think that is so special and so important, not just in fiction but in larger life. like. people who focus solely on romantic relationships in long fics u bamboozle me. it keys into this idea of 'oh if ur broken u just need one specific special person to fix u' and like. no. maybe u learn to put urself back together with constant help from the people around u, from ur family and ur friends and ur role models. not just the person u wanna kiss. that is just me tho.

im rly happy u mentioned mc and maki actually!!! i find that most people rly like mc's friendships with kiibo and shuichi and kirumi, which is understandable because mc doesn't get a ton of time with maki but. i really like what i've done with the two of them?? idk that feels big headed to say but writing their relationship develop has been super fun and it's one of those things i didn't rly plan? it just sorta happened and now mc has maybe too many friends but yk what. we move. maybe the real sleep awake was the friends we made along the way.

hhhghgbfhh kokichi and mc's relationship makes me so mentally ill. in a good way. and im really really happy ur invested in it. like my god i have put so much time n thought into these babies and i feel like one aspect of writing their relationship i dont talk abt as much is how patient u have to be. i feel like u would get this too, writing a slowburn urself — u have all these ideas u want to incorporate and ideas of how they get together, their first kiss, their first whatevers but. u gotta lay the groundwork first. and with characters like kokichi and nagito it's gonna be like 90% groundwork because they have walls and complexities a mile high. but im super happy with how it's developing.

this was absolutely. a delight to read please do not ever worry abt being a bother or anything to me. u are sincerely always always welcome to jump into my inbox n rant or talk about whatever i mean it. anytime. i welcome it. i am a bit shitty at answering asks but i rly do try always to get back to long comments like these even if it takes a minute. thank u so much for this and i hope u are having a lovely day <3333

#oh yeah. starts crying.#dear venus.#🏚.sleep awake

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ekaterinatepes · 3 years ago

Text

Nothing but the Best

Author’s note: it’s getting interesting here ;) enter prince charming Sugu-kun to save the day.

IX.

https://youtu.be/uhoiqVPmURE

youtube

Satoru was afraid of making a move, least he tipped you over the edge and made you bolt; he didn’t want that. Swallowing hard he looked into your eyes… God… he had missed your beautiful E/C eyes so much. Waking up every morning without you by his side, without you kissing him awake cause he was going to be late for work… again. Your absence had left a literal infinite void in his heart that he was unable to fill.

“I know I don’t deserve anything from you Y/N, but I love you and I cannot give up on us… We said forever when we got married. And I want that… with you” speaking from the heart was not something Satoru ever did. He always preferred to cover any emotions with inappropriate jokes and double entendres. But he knew he couldn’t play his stupid games, not with you and most certainly not now.

You pulled away in that moment, as if his touch was burning you. He allowed it, doing his utmost effort not to pull you back in. His hands itched resting at his sides, missing the warmth of your body.

|||

It was you and me, it seemed to last forever

The way you taste and I still remember… the sounds we made.

|||

“It would have been nice if you felt that way before you decided to ruin this marriage. Where were those promises of forever when you fucked someone else?” You asked piercing his eyes with yours. He cowered under your glare. Satoru had never been on the receiving end of your wrath and now he understood why most people chose (wisely) to not mess with you. Every single one of your words was chosen carefully to cause the most damage. At the same time… what hurt the most was that you were right.

“Leave and don’t ever come back… you and I… are through…” Satoru noticed how you avoided calling him by his name, he hated it. As if uttering his name would leave a bad taste in your mouth “Y/N…” he whispered pleadingly when you took another step away. But this time he didn’t have the courage to stop you as you disappeared inside your apartment and locked the door behind you.

|||

I bet you wish you had me back! Another chance to gain it, just like that. The best you ever had.

|||

Satoru was fucked.

—————

The next morning Suguru’s plane landed. JFK international airport was as busy and chaotic as one would expect. After collecting his luggage he made his way to a cab giving the driver your current address.

He hadn’t been able to sleep a wink during the trip, his mind swarmed with all the possibilities of what could be happening right now. Satoru didn’t play fair and of course… you loved (probably still love) the lucky bastard.

With a sigh he decided to focus instead on the city going by through the cab’s windows. It wasn’t the first time he was in New York and his mind was much more occupied torturing him instead of appreciating the landscape.

After 40 minutes, Geto stood before a very nice and modern building located in the upper east side called Hawthorn Park. You sure knew how to live in luxury. He approached the doorman and let him know his name and that he was here to see Miss Ekaterina Petrova to which the kind looking old man responded by using his intercom to contact you. Geto was soon granted access and guided to the elevator.

The elevator doors opened on the 21st floor, he walked to the door of your apartment which was already open and you were waiting for him. His smile fell once he noticed you have been crying “oh Kitten” dropping his luggage on the spot he surrounded your body in his arms “I’m so sorry…” one didn’t need to be a genius to know Satoru had found you.

You both moved inside your apartment. Settling on the spacious couch you buried your face on Suguru’s lap as you cried. He stroked your now darker strands of h/c hair without a word exchanged. He knew you needed to let it all out. After what seemed an eternity you sat back up. Suguru gently dried your eyes.

“He was here last night…” you whispered in a raw and scratchy voice, result of your endless hours of distress before his arrival “he told me he loved me, that he left Sookie” scoff “and hear this… he left her because the baby wasn’t his!” Talk about karma at its best. Suguru already knew that but he was surprised to hear Satoru had come clean about it to you “He probably thought I would fall for that! But I didn’t” you added firmly.

Suguru was proud of you. He knew how hard it was for you to resist Satoru but you stood tall and proud when it mattered the most. “What do you want to do now?” Where you planning on moving again?

“I’m not leaving…” you said looking into Suguru’s liquid amber gaze. You couldn’t help but notice once again he had such pretty eyes, like a cat. You’ve always liked them, specially when they looked at you with such tenderness. You have missed him dearly during all this time.

“I can’t keep running away from him; I mean… it’s obvious he won’t stop and I… I am tired of molding my life to adapt to his whims. I’m staying here whatever happens. Sugu… I got the part for the Swan Lake!” You added remembering you haven’t talked to him during the last week and so he didn’t know about your latest accomplishment.

Geto’s eyes enlarged before a huge smile split his handsome face and his massive frame engulfed you in a tight hug. Of course he knew everything about ballet, he was your best friend after all. This was huge! Probably as big as making it in the ballet world meant “I’m so proud of you Kitten!” He said excitedly kissing your temple. Maybe not everything was as bad as he thought.

You were upset, it was true. But then again you were not prepared last night. Satoru had taken you by surprise. Now… you knew he was here and more or less knew what to expect from your soon to be ex-husband.

“Thank you Sugu…” you stopped and pulled back just slightly to look into his eyes from your height. He was a very tall man compared to you “I missed you” you said with a bright smile to which Geto replied with one of his own before pulling you in again for another hug “I missed you too Kitten” stroking your back softly Suguru decided he was happy to be here… with you.

https://youtu.be/3oSXqLgoSq4

youtube

|||

She's given up, been holding on for way too long

She's had enough

He's coming home again

But it's too late 'cause she won't stay with him

|||

The sunshine hitting his face was what woke him up. With a grunt Satoru rolled over on his side only to fall unceremoniously from the couch where he had passed out last night. The last thing he remembered was warping back to his hotel after you left him on the roof. The memory of you, turning your back on him and walking away squeezed his heart in a painful grasp.

Alcohol was never something he was attracted to, he liked to keep his brain constantly alert and stimulated. It served a purpose of course, it kept his infinity barrier on at all times, even when he was asleep. But last night he hit rock bottom. He didn’t care anymore…

As soon as he got back to the hotel, hopelessness made a home in his chest, sitting heavy on his heart. Walking to the fully stocked bar placed on the corner of his suite he opened a bottle of whiskey. He started slow since most everything was too bitter for his taste, so he went through the process of trying every single bottle until he found something to his liking.

Two hours and about fifteen different shots of everything he decided to settle for a bottle of Amaretto, some fancy Italian liquor made of apricot kernels. It was sweet.

Everything else after that was blur. Moving his sore body from the floor he forced himself to go to the bathroom. Maybe a hot shower would help ease his misery. Peeling off his clothes the smell of booze clinging on them made Gojo cringe. He decided to brush his teeth before showering. Looking in the mirror he couldn’t recognize the man starring back at him. He was a mess.

|||

Are we just ghosts out in the night?

Are we just waiting for a light that doesn't shine?

Are we just faking or is this real?

'Cause I don't know how to feel

Are we just ghosts now, you and I?

|||

Last night he had been so desperate, so hopeless and broken hearted. That’s when it hit him… his wife didn’t hurt him, she didn’t cheat on him (unlike himself), she didn’t do anything to him and yet he was feeling as if the world was collapsing around him. He lied, cheated and fucked up everything for them both.

Guilt…

Unadulterated, burning and suffocating guilt was consuming him. He felt bad before but it wasn’t until last night that he grasped the concept that Y/N didn’t owe him anything at all and that HE didn’t deserve it anyways.

The plan originally had been to get back in your good graces by doing penitence, submitting to your every whim and desire by becoming your devoted slave for as long as you would have it. He never even considered the possibility that his wife DID NOT WANT to forgive him in the first place.

He thought you left to give him a lesson, that you would eventually come back to him after he had a taste of what it was like to lose you.

But even after you both shared such a searing kiss, so passionate that every cell in his body was humming, aflame with desire you still managed to walk away from him as if it meant nothing to you.

What good did it do to him to be the strongest when he couldn’t even protect his wife… from himself.

After showering, changing clothes and ordering every sweet pastry and desert from the room service menu Gojo stopped to rethink his strategy.

What?…

Did you think he was going to stop there?

Absolutely no, love!

If anything, your rejection had only fueled his need to get you back.

“Time for plan B” sighing he pulled out his phone it rang a couple times before someone answered “good morning Mrs. Mazzo, this is Gojo Satoru. I’m going to need you to forward to me Miss Petrova’s rehearsal schedule…”

—

“This is really good!” You hummed happily after swallowing a bite of your steak. Suguru sat across from you at Keens Steakhouse, with a grin he watched as you indulged yourself in what you called your ‘cheat meal’ of the month. Being a professional ballerina was a tough and demanding commitment that controlled every aspect of your life, from how you train to what you eat. Despite it all, Geto knew you always found a happy balance that worked just fine for you.

Seeing your big smile made his heart jump in his chest, you were as beautiful and alluring as the day he met you. If only he had told you he liked you before Satoru did. This question kept him up at night, playing all sorts of scenarios in his mind. If he had taken the first step… would things have been different? Would you have ended up together? Married? Shaking his head he tried to focus on what you were actually saying. Deviating his thoughts to that kind of scenarios was dangerous. He also didn’t want to push it when he was perfectly aware you were still healing; he wasn’t a low life piece of shit to take advantage of your vulnerability.

But when you smiles at him as if he was the only thing in your world, when you held his hand across the table, playing with his finger, his throat felt dry and tight.

“What do you think Sugu?” Your curious and expecting eyes caught him like a deer in the headlights “I’m sorry Kitten, I was distracted. Could you repeat that please?” He asked with an affable smile.

You chuckled and stroke his hand softly “you look tired, did you sleep at all in the plane?” He shook his head “no, I didn’t. I never can, it’s uncomfortable” he hid on purpose the true reason why he hadn’t been able to sleep “come on Sugu! Let’s go back home! I bet you are tired” you said offering him a sweet smile.

After paying your bill you walked the few blocks back home. Suguru of course would be staying with you in the spare room of your penthouse. Holding hands while you talked to him about the activities the city had to offer, your schedule and how you intended to fit the time to do some tourism with him. “You don’t have to bother Kitten, I know you are busy enough with your job, I will be fine” he insisted.

You stopped on your tracks and stood in front of him, pouting, making him chuckle. You looked every bit the kitten he knew you to be, all bothered and moody “no! I want to spend time with you too you know! I haven’t seen you in so long! I’m not going to waste this chance!” You insisted to which Suguru threw his hands up in the air “I surrender Kitten! Do with me as you will” you giggled and then blushed. “Uh… eh… ok! I will!” He took your hand again and you both resumed your walk.

Satoru warped to the roof top of the building adjacent to yours, the lights were out in your apartment and he couldn’t sense your presence inside. You left? Where did you go?

Before a second though he warped inside your apartment but he saw all your stuff was still there, maybe you went out for groceries or something?

After a few minutes sitting on your couch he decided to wait for you on the street so he could see when you got home.

(Almost an hour later)

Oh… he wasn’t ready for what he saw.

“That mother fu….” Satoru grinds his teeth watching you walk down the street holding onto Suguru’s hand while talking distractedly. From his hiding spot in front of your building he closed his hands in a tight fist.

Well, this complicated things… a lot more.

————-> Chapter 10

———————————-

@sleepyamaya

@cloudsinthecosmos

@jxvajxy

@satoruhooraaa

@my-reality-is-in-my-head

@dok-ja

@jscarlet06

@fiona782

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@heichoustheoryofcleanliness

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@coldvillainess

@vampgguk

@sukuna1stwife

#jjk #jjk Gojo #Gojo Satoru #gojo #Satoru #jujutsu geto #jujutsu gojo #geto x reader #gojo x reader #gojo angst #gojo x you #gojo saturo x reader #geto smut #geto x y/n #geto suguru #jjk suguru #getou suguru x y/n #Youtube

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fantasies-fairytales-n-fics · 2 years ago

Text

Thranduil and Josie Part 59- Mother

Summary: Josie wakes up and she's not in the dungeon anymore. Some hot lovin takes place. Haldir , Legolas, Aragorn and company hunt for Kate in the dark forest. Haldir takes charge. Danger arises for the group. Someone helps them. Kate baits Haldir. The Elvenking arises again. Thranduil's had enough and takes care of business. No one bullies the King of Mirkwood and gets away with it. No one hurts or threatens his wife, son or daughter and lives. Thranduil praises his son and Haldir for a job well done, but tension still lingers between the Marchwarden and the King. Garrett is soon to receive a gift of karma on his doorstep wrapped in a bow per the king's orders. Thranduil also receives a gift. A most precious one.

*Smut* *Death*

You heard a woman's voice. A very familiar one. Kate. There she stood with her glowing eyes.

She appeared frightened and was pleading with someone as Legolas made her kneel and placed his knife to her neck. How was he touching her without being shocked onto his ass? You stood in the distance with Haldir at your side. He was staring at her with a look of disgust on his face, but he didn't acknowledge you. It was like you weren't even there. Where was there? You couldn't make out your surroundings. It was all black.

You then saw Thranduil appear from the darkness with an expressionless face. The face of the Elvenking.

You awoke with a loud inhale to find yourself in bed with a sleeping naked Thranduil. You stared at his peaceful face. Trying not to wake him, you traced your fingertips like a feather down his cheek but he sensed you. A smile formed on his mouth and he let out a soft moan as his moonlike eyes fluttered open. "Josephine, my love. How I have dreamt of waking up to your angelic face for so long. Please tell me it is not only but a dream?"

You held his face, caressing his cheekbone with your thumb and smiled, then laid your lips softly onto his. "Does this feel like a dream?" you whispered into his slightly open mouth as you parted from the kiss.

"I am not sure as all of my dreams of you were just as real. Even when I had lost my memory, I was haunted by them and would awaken in such the state I am in now." He glanced down at the very apparent hard on he had that laid beneath the blanket covering his lower half.

You then gasped. "Was last night a dream? We...we were in the dungeon. But... I am here? Did I dream it all after I had tried to..." You couldn't even say the words. After Garrett tried to make you kill Thranduil.

"No my Queen...it was very much real. All of it." he grinned and adjusted his hips as his cock was aching for you.

You sat straight up in a panic. "Thranduil! Then why am I here, how? How did I get here?? I cannot be here! I have to stay away from you!"

He sat up beside you and slid his fingers behind your neck. "I carried you here after you fell asleep in my arms. You will stay away from me never again. There will be no more talk of it. My wife and unborn child will not spend one more minute in such a place." he said in a stern but loving tone. He leaned back on the pillows and took your hand. "Come to me." His tone was so alluring and you could not fight him if you wanted to. You realized he was using his magic through his touch to calm you, just like he did last night. Just like he has always done and been able to do.

You don't think you had seen anything more sexy than the way he looked right now, except yesterday with his shirtless archery escapade. Ok, who were you kidding? He looked sexy every day in every sense of the word. And...he knew it. You were certain his shirtless stunt yesterday was done intentionally to show you there was nothing better than him. As if he even needed to show you that. You knew it the moment you first laid eyes upon him. But the yandere side of him, that jealous and possessive side needed to show you as he thought he was losing you.

The soft lighting radiated on his skin like the sunset had knelt down before him and worshipped his beauty. His platinum strands of pure sheer satin laid long over one shoulder, resting on his firm chest all the way down to his slim toned waistline. He held a portion of his golden locks in his hand and twirled it about through his fingers as he seduced you with his hungry bedroom eyes. Damn him. Damn him for making you want him so badly when the last thing you should be thinking of at this time is fucking his brains out. He had you....right where he wanted you and he knew it. So did you.

You went to him like he asked, or should say commanded and straddled his waist. "Come closer." he ordered as his eyes were fixated on yours. You rested your palms on his solid chest and leaned towards his face. His eyes were still locked into yours like some magnetic pull. "Touch me." He glanced down at his stiff cock that protruded out from under your folds and laid throbbing against his belly button. You glided your hand down the rippled muscles of his stomach and gently touched the tip of his earnest erection. His cock twitched at your touch and he laid his head back as erratic pants escaped his lips. He then grabbed your wrists and pulled you to his mouth. "Try again." His mouth laid open and you saw his tongue lightly curl. You slowly took his mouth into yours as both your tongues reached for the other. You slid your clit up his long shaft and rested your entrance on his tip. He sucked in a loud gasp at the feel. "Take me."

"Yes my King." You slowly slid him into you. The gasp he had sucked in he now exhaled heavily as his eyes rolled back. He made soft shallow thrusts as you swayed your hips slowly down on him. You were coming unhinged. Once he was at full penetration, your walls exploded. "Oh god...Thranduil!!"

He was shocked you came so quickly and he loved every minute of it, knowing he could take you over the edge so easily. Your face and erotic moans turned him on something fierce and he found himself unwillingly releasing with you. He sat up and pushed you back to the foot of the bed and laid upon you, thrusting back into you hard and deep. You were so wet from his release, he could hardly take it as he slipped in and out of you from his tip to base, fast and steady. He laid his thumb on your clit and caressed it as his hips swayed in a circular motion. The aching tingle rose strong and hard through your lower stomach and you climaxed again, arching your back and bucking your hips. He went dead weight onto you as he grinded against your hips, then stopped moving. The loudest groan came out of him and his hips shook vigorously as he busted inside of you. This made you start rocking your hips up into him again. "Thranduil...don't....stop..."

He smiled at you and licked his tongue over your teeth and whispered. "The thought never crossed my mind. I could do this for hours." You knew he could too. An elf's sex drive was out of this world. He rolled you onto your stomach. Oh god you loved this position as it took him inside you to the deepest of levels which never allowed you to last more than a minute. He knew that and also knew it was true for him as well so he teased you for a bit with the tip of his cock. He rubbed it over your clit and through your folds, then slid only the head of his shaft into your entrance and pulling out, gliding back down through your wet folds to your clit. He repeated this multiple times as you panted and rocked your hips up and down. Even this was driving him close to losing it so as his tip came back to your entrance, he shoved all the way in. You gasped in so hard as he laid snug on your back and grinded into you. His breathing became heavy and fast and his cock was painfully hard. He was going to cum. You arched your hips up which made him moan insanely. He wrapped his arm under your stomach and began pushing hard and slow and your walls collapsed around him. Your mouth hung open but no sound came out as it was that intense of an orgasm and he felt every beat of it. His face dropped into your neck as he held your hips up against him. He released and couldn't move as his hot breath burst into your ear in pulses matching those of his climax.

His hand came up and pulled your hair from your face. He kissed your cheek. "I love you Josephine." He pulled out of you and brought you back to the pillows. His lips caressed yours and he slipped his tongue slowly into your mouth, kissing you deeply. You whimpered as a tear fell from your eyes.

"I love you my Thranduil. Forever."

Legolas, Haldir and company, Aragorn included, made their way to the dark forest borders, knowing that is where Kate would be hiding.

The area they were in is where she was sighted and it was contaminated with the giant arachnids which is why she chose it. They all stood and conversed for a moment to go over their plan as Haldir knew the most about the cold ones and wanted to refresh everyone's memories on the do's and don'ts.

Haldir thought it best to separate in groups to cover more ground but Aragorn did not agree and they had a little spat about it. Aragorn thought they were stronger if they remained together.

Haldir was not happy about it as he has battled vampires many times but not the spiders so much so he gave in to his long time friend and gave the order.

As they trekked on, Haldir halted. "Im tur- smell hen. (I can smell her) Something is amiss. This is too easy. Orth- na naur!" (Raise to fire)

Here came the treacherous 8 legged beasts out of the darkness. Kate had called upon them just as Garrett had done in Rivendell. Spiders and vampires were allies per se. Neither cared for each other's blood but the arachnids wouldn't pass up a delicious elven and human meal.

"Leith- thúl!" (Release wind) Aragorn shouted. Legolas was already up in the trees chasing a spider down it's own web.

What he saw next shocked him beyond belief. Shelob. She had came all the way from Mordor, and she was bee lining straight for Legolas.

"Legolas!! Fall back!!" Haldir shouted and then Legolas's Guardian jumped in front of him firing arrow after arrow at the massive beast.

This is what Kate wanted, for them to use up all their arrows tainted with dead man's blood. But Haldir was much smarter than her. So was someone else. Gandalf the Grey. Staff in hand, he appeared from the trees and stood in front of the great spider Queen. "You...shall...not....pass!!" he shouted and slammed his staff down, shaking and lighting up the entire forest.

The magical light sent her and the remaining spiders squealing off into the darkness. It also knocked a certain vampire out of a tree. Haldir immediately saw her and drew his last arrow that he saved just for her.

She went to run and the skilled archer fired, sending the poisoned arrow straight through her shoulder and pinning her to a tree. Everyone gathered their breaths and circled around. The dead man's blood takes immediate effect so she was not able to rip it out. Even if she had, the poison was still inside her and she wouldn't have gotten far.

"Gandalf! How can we thank you enough old friend??" Legolas shouted with a smile.

"Anything for you son of Thranduil." Gandalf had always been fond of the Prince which is why he had helped him with his plan back in Mordor after saving Legolas from the spider sting. Gandalf hoped this would make things right with the King for his involvement in Legolas's scheme.

Haldir walked up to the ailing vampire. "The vampire fell so hard I could have shot her in the dark. Oh, that is right, I did..."

Kate laughed at him. "You will all pay for this."

"No dead one...it seems you are the one who is going to pay at the discretion of the Elvenking. And I will gladly watch. Your kind is an abomination. Your King is of no threat to us. After you are handled, the King will handle your King as well."

"You're a fool, all of you! Look what he has already accomplished with your beloved human! He will have her, just you...wait!" Kate reeled and spat at Haldir's feet. This enraged Haldir and he lunged forward at her.

Legolas grabbed him. "Haldir, Baw! (No). Do not touch her. She is not weak enough yet for her power to be useless to us."

"Haldir, Legolas is right. You must wait. She is baiting you. Do not fall for it." Aragorn said.

Haldir glared at Legolas and then Aragorn. "Sui cin iest." (As you wish). He then walked off when all he really wanted to do was kill her right there. But Thranduil ordered for her to be brought back alive.

After about 30 minutes, Kate was so weak that the arrow stuck through her in the tree was the only thing keeping her standing. She was finally removed from the tree and literally drug all the way back to the Kingdom. Even in her weakened state, she found the strength to taunt Haldir all the way back. He sucked it up but it was eating at him with the things she was saying. The things she was saying about you.

Thranduil calmed you enough for you to sleep and he went about his business as he received word from Legolas that the package he requested was arriving. He sat on his throne and waited. He was patient, for this was going to bring him much pleasure.

Legolas drug Kate up onto the stone platform surrounding the King's throne and placed her on her knees with his knife to her throat. Just like in your dream. Haldir stood to the side and glared at her. She was now frightened and knew what was about to take place as she watched the Elvenking descend from his throne.

"Kate Denali, we meet again. How unfortunate it is for you."

Kate shook and began to plead with Thranduil. "What I did...to you...it was Garrett's orders I had...no choice."

"There is always a choice. Like the choice I am making now. There are consequences to your choices. Did you honestly think I would let this slide? Are you that ignorant in your centuries of putrid existence?" Thranduil circled about her like a hawk achieving her intimidation of him.

M..My Lord Thranduil...if there is information you seek of me, I do not have it. Garrett does tell me his plans. I only follow his orders."

"I am not your Lord, shall I make that clear? I seek nothing from you...I only seek for a not so subtle message to be sent. It will give me great pleasure for your King to know his place. And now...you will know your place as well.

"King Thranduil...please. I have done nothing to your wife."

"No? You assisted in Garrett's endeavors did you not? Were you not lurking on my lands where you were found tonight? Lingering in the shadows to spy on me for him? You have crossed a line that you should not have. That line is my Queen. Not to mention laying your filthy dead hands on me. I still cannot wash the stink out of my mind. Garrett has hurt the one I treasure most in this world and he has also tried to kill me. An eye for an eye seems fitting. Just ask my ex wife...Oh that is right. You cannot because she is...dead. She had the same look upon her face that you wear now. It is quite satisfying."

"Thranduil...p..please. Show mercy."

"I do not know of the word. And now you shall know that. I have heard enough of your gibberish."

And with one swift swipe of his sword, the Elvenking beheaded the vampire Kate without even looking at her.

"Haldir, Legolas, Aragorn, Feren and the rest of you. You did well tonight. See to it Garrett receives his mates....remains."

"Adar...Gandalf was there. He fended off the spiders we encountered. Not only that, but you should know...Shelob was one of them. Also...Haldir...he was more than superior and defended my life to Shelob." Legolas informed the King.

"Yes....I am aware. Shelob is no threat here. My elven guard can handle her if she has an agenda. Gandalf's actions will not be forgotten. Haldir...you did well in your Guardian duties to protect my son. with that said...I still now of your thoughts. You are angry with me for locking Josephine in the dungeons as it was her request. That is what fueled your rage tonight, yes? Or is it something more?" Thranduil's tone was far from sincere on his last statement. It was very much more. Haldir's heart was in shambles as he knew you had went back to the King. He loved you like crazy and didn't know how to go on with never having your love in return. Thranduil gave Haldir a look and walked off swaying his sword back into it's sheath.

Thranduil went back to you. You were still sound asleep. He stroked your face and kissed your cheek. "I am trying so hard my love, to make this right. Even I am at a loss sometimes as I still feel right now." He kissed your forehead and went out into the gardens and on through the forest to a small clearing by a pond. A place his mother always loved....and where she is buried along side his father. A place no one knows of except Legolas. Not even you.

Thranduil flashed back to that dreadful day of the dragon fire war. he saw himself facing down the fiery demon called Smaug.

"Father...Please forgive me. For I am not worthy of you. You taught me all that I know and I still failed you and Mother. You left me to be a King in your place that I can never fill. I have failed my wife as well. One that I love as much as you loved my Mother."

Thranduil knelt by the water and stared at his own reflection. He envisioned his father as he had last saw him...lying on the ground at his feet as Thranduil faced Smaug and took on the scars he now bears.

Thranduil suddenly heard a voice call his name. A woman. He stood up quickly thinking it was you but saw you nowhere. He walked around as his eyes darted all over his surroundings.

The voice became familiar to him. He walked over to the graves that each lied under a stake of blue feathered like flowers. His mother's favorite color was blue. "Mother?" Thranduil called out. His Mother's voice came back loud and clear.

"Thranduil, my beautiful son."

Thranduil then saw an apparition of her appear all in a white light. He dropped to his knees and bowed his head to her. "Mother...it...it is really you?"

She smiled as white light glowed from her lips. "My Thranduil Oropherion, it is I. I feel your need for guidance. I have come to offer it." In all the years since her death, he has never seen her nor heard her. Why now? he thought. She reached out her hand.

Thranduil stood up and took it. "Mother?" he questioned as tears streamed down his cheeks. "I...I do not know what to do. I feel I have lost myself. The heavy burdens are sometimes too much to bear. My heart has hardened from the loss of you and Father. I only wish to make you both proud but I fear I have failed you with such."

"My son...You have not failed us. Your Father is quite proud of you as am I. We watch over you even when you do not feel us here. You are not lost and your heart is still of the sweet child I raised. The burdens are heavy yes, but you are strong willed just like your Father. And very resilient. A vigorous spring for which you are named after. You will bounce back from your troubles. You have the love of a beautiful wife to help you now. The true love I always told you about."

Thranduil sobbed. "I..I do not deserve her, I have hurt her so much."

"And yet...she is still here. Loving you as a twin flame would do. Her eyes are of yours. Her magic is of yours. Her child is of yours. Leeanduil. I gave you something and it means more than you know. It bears the color of your eyes....my eyes and now...her eyes. It bears my light, your light and now her light. It is a power that can conquer all your troubles. It is of Moonlight and Starlight. A powerful combination. When united, no evil can withstand it. But you already knew this as you have seen it. The two must unite and remain united. The power has been yours all along. You just need to see it for yourself. I love you my son. I am always with you."

She faded away as Thranduil desperately tried clinging to her hand. He fell back upon his knees with his head down and sobbed. He felt a hand over his and one on his back. He looked up and saw....your eyes.

Masterlist

@tigereyesf @redeemer46 @mirkwoodwarrior *Boom Bitches* 😎

*Coming up* Thranduil struggles with his Mother's revelation and appearance. Will he understand the true meaning of her message? Did his wife see what he saw?"

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kusagrasskusa · 3 years ago

Text

Michael Myers X Murderer! Reader - Headcannons - "Death Card"

Also, thank you (Wattpad Person) for requesting this :) I know your the last request I got, so I prolly should have done someone else's request first, but your's was just easiest to find. (Also, I have it bad for Michael so )

Have fun reading this! I'm writing this on my laptop instead of computer so sorry if the formatting turns out worse than usual :/

Also...someone made fun of me for putting, "eight," and, "11," in the same sentence. I guess not many people know this, but anything under ten is supposed to be written out unless their fractions or decimals.

By the way, these basically aren't headcannons lol. It's just me wanting to write out a story but not being good enough to so I just write it down in simpler terms.

Enjoy~

Not only is Y/N just another famous murder who casually takes the lives of people, but she's amazing at hiding

..........until-

Y/N was an abusive home after her parents died when she was a toddler. Her aunt and uncle neglected her but karma came back at them when their car fell off a bridge, causing the pair to drown. The downside for the young Y/N was that she was put into a foster institution. And we all know by now that foster care are full of fights, drugs, weed, alcohol, and shitty employees.

As a young girl entering such a bad place, she was always a target. You know that sense of fear, worthlessness, and loneliness fucked with her head to where she felt lashing out felt great.

She would be unable to stop herself as she plunged a sharp object in and out of this prick that held her down for so long. But once she heard voices from other kids, she ran.

The story made headlines as the next big attack from yet another child. That's right, next. There was someone who inspired her to do what she did.

Of course, she always had that memory in the back of her head. That boy's violent actions filled her with immeasurable awe when she saw the news. However, she always had something more important to think about.

With so much dissatisfaction with her past, she could only fill herself up with adding things on to her in the present, and more in the future.

Y/N would steal Poker cards from people and always use the Ace of Spades to mark her kills by sliding the card into a wound. After all, betting games were the highlight of her day in the foster institution. She was always so good at it that it became her pride.

All these headlines and stories about how evil she is became such a big deal in her head. Such an overwhelming feeling of adrenaline every time she heard the name people would call her.

"The Death Card," is another name for Ace of Spades in most English countries. It was the perfect fit for Y/N.

(Ya'll, I feel like a fucking genius for coming up with that lol)

She was so good at hiding, truly. Kill someone in Kentucky, then move to Missouri. Killing someone there and move to Georgia, and so on.

Only in her hometown was she caught.

Michael was the one who started it all for her, as their same age and hometown made her feel connected to him, and finally where he got caught would be the same place she did.

14 years of hiding and killing led her to meeting him

Michael spent these 14 years sitting in complete silence. No talking, no humming, no singing, nothing. It's like he was always in his own world of thought, too busy in his imagination to interact with the real world.

Of course, there was times when he did pay attention to what's around him.

The news was the only thing he'd really pay close attention to. After all, what if something happens to Haddonfield while's he's stuck in there, and that causes plenty of people he once knew to move away?

But per usual, there was nothing about it

But there was something that caught his attention even by a little

"After 14 years, the notorious Death Card or Card of Death has finally been caught," says the Haddonfield Police Department. "While we're unsure of her motives thus far, we have been able to learn of who she is. Y/N L/N made the headlines once in 1980 at the age of eight as one of America's biggest crime cases with children as the culprit, having brutally stabbed a 15 year old boy. This happened just two years after the Michael Myers case, when a six year old boy stabbed his older sister in 1978. All else the HPD are saying is that her frantic behavior may lead her to a mental institution rather than letting her make legal decisions in court."

Michael paid attention to all the details of the report. For this report to be made about Haddonfield, chances are they'll be meeting each other soon.

The Death Card was a violent killer Michael heard of plenty of times however he never paid close attention to.

(Holy shit these are just headcannons so why am I writing long paragraphs)

He had to say, hearing about her violent stabbings were the highlight of his week. Even if he never felt strong about hearing other people having fun with their lives like she was, he couldn't help but almost feel pushed to do what she is. Living freely and ending those who cross his path...

Saying he was jealous or inspired would be a stretch though

He would spend his days painting paper mache masks while thinking of doing what she was for sure but he hated how she would show off by using those cards as if she didn't have a goal in mind, which was annoying to him. If you have nothing to live for, then kill yourself was his mindset.

Michael watched as Y/N stepped into court. He know hundreds- no thousands- of people watched as this woman of pure evil stepped into the courtroom. Her H/C hair flowed as she walked passed everyone, glaring at them with her cold E/C eyes.

A look of slight intrigue replaced his normal dull expression as he watched the girl stand up before the judge, smiling sassily at the cameras as to tell them to fuck off. Michael can recognize that look of intrusion on her face as she was practically interrogated. Clearly, she hated it there.

He watched contently as all the mystery surrounding the Card of Death was revealed to everyone in this world. Days went by of this court case before finally, she pled insanity. After all, she was known to have some underlying mental conditions as she remained so calm when talking about the varies of ways she would kill.

It's easy to see that many felt bad for the girl. Such trauma growing up led to the creation of this unfortunate human. But Michael? He didn't feel bad at all.

He never was sad or truly sympathetic however...he did feel pity. Somewhere in his soulless eyes held pity for this sad, sad girl he was soon to meet. Not exactly sympathy, but simply pity. And with that came respect.

The day that Y/N stepped foot into those doors was the day the two would meet for the very first times. Over 63 counts of first degree murder in 14 years led to the meeting of these two serial killers. At the time, they were both only 20.

Tables were scattered across the room with people talking or simply sitting alone by themselves on them. There was TV in a few different places around the room and board games in a couple of shelves. In the back of the large room was windows that showed the outside that felt so out of reach forever.

As the metal doors slammed behind her, she felt eyes on her immediately. Y/N slowly scanned the room as she gulped back the intense fear gathering in her stomach. Her lips parted open as she began to breath heavily and press her back on those metal doors.

She was so trapped and scared when she first entered that foster institution. She couldn't help but think of karma when her aunt would hurt her so badly for those five years before she died. But 63 murders are so much worse, so what could karma do to her to balance her evil deeds with punishment?

Laughter and giggled filled her ears as she shut her eyes tightly and covered her face with her arms. Her vision was going blurry; she was having a panic attack. Tears fell from her eyes as she whimpered quietly to herself.

She may be the Card of Death however she never had to be in a large group of people in so long.

Her body jerked as she was suddenly pulled away from those metal doors. She cried out when she saw a large man, around 6'7 (204cm), pull her away.

In just a few seconds, she was pulled to a metal table and forced to sit as the large man stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders.

Her body tensed unimaginably as they remained still for a few seconds, quiet aside from the occasional sobs of Y/N.

Then suddenly, the pressure on her shoulders disappeared. She heard nothing until the sound of creaking from the seat in front of her interrupted.

Y/N felt eyes on her. They were so intense over her.

A minute passed before her own eyes fluttered open, meeting the man's eyes in front of her.

A shiver ran down her spine when she came face to face with stone cold blue eyes that seemed to hold nothing within them. No light, no soul, and no sympathy. Not only that, but a orange mask made of paper mache covered the rest of his face as well.

The man tilted his head before lifting his hand onto the table, sliding something over to her. Y/N looked down at what he gave her.

"Don't speak. Write."

Michael had given her a paper with these words. His handwriting was hard to read considering he nearly never wrote anything so it took a moment before Y/N got the message. When she did, she looked back up at the man and nodded just a little so it was barely recognizable.

Obviously this conversation was to be secretive so she knew to barely show signs of interactions. The camera couldn't pick up on such a small nod to what evidence is there of them even interacting?

Michael slid the paper back to him and brought a pencil to the paper after erasing the original text. When he slid it back to her, it read, "Don't let anyone know what we say Y/N. They watch everything." When Y/N looked back up at him, she saw him dart his eyes from something behind her to something on the wall between them. She turned her head slightly to the side, noticing a camera on the wall. So she understood.

Michael had dropped on the pencil on the table, meaning it was her turn to reply. She erased the previous text before writing down, "Who are you? How do you know me?" When she slid it back, Michael took the pencil in his hand again.

"Michael Myers. I was a well known case two years before you. We heard a lot about you on TV."

"As in the boy who killed his sister at the age of six?"

"Yes. You know me?"

Y/N's eyes widened slightly as she frantically wrote down a reply. Without even noticing, the knot in her stomach had completely disappeared without a trace.

"I remember seeing your case. I thought about everyday."

Michael didn't reply immediately after reading. Instead, he waited a few minutes and stared down at the table. A look of confusion remained on Y/N's features as she impatiently waited. Then suddenly, Michael erased what was on the paper and simply drew a masked person looking somewhat like himself with a knife in his hand. He drew dead stick figures around it with blood splattering everywhere.

Michael knew that this picture would cover up all the eraser marks and writings that were still slightly visible. So when the guard that walked up behind Y/N without her knowing popped up, he didn't see any text.

Of course, this did lead to the paper being taken away. Then minutes after that, both of the pair was taken away.

If there's one thing as scary as analyzing The Shape and caring for him, it's that person who cares and analyzes him finding him interacting with someone else for the first time.

Whenever Y/N got sat down in her cell, she knew what was about to happen. She was sat down in her bed as a man she'd never seen before sat down in the chair that came with her little desk in her cell with a guard next to him.

Have you ever spoken to Michael? Are you related to him? How do you know him? How does he know you? Have you ever met his family? Why did he interact to you? Why was he drawing things for you? Does he like you? Does he hate you? Did he write to you? Did you hear him talk?

So many questions were asked by this Dr Loomis in such short amount of time. "No, no, I don't, no, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know, no, no," and mostly these were your responses. No matter how many times Loomis asked, you dully replied.

You simply said he sat you down and you began to draw together, both filling in a piece of the drawing together.

And eventually, you got out.

Another day went by of "talking" to Michael.

And another.

The talks were nice and casual. What goes on in the asylum? What goes on in the outside? Who should I avoid? What's the reputation of the HPD?

Do you want to escape?

But it was only a matter of time before finally the two were friends.

Y/N was kinda just in her cell one night in bed. Then she just gasped and widened her eyes. Wait, are we friends? We're friends, right!

Michael already knew of their friendship like two weeks before she did. It felt so...wrong for him. He had always been alone and silent. How could someone like her even be so likeable to him? He didn't really understand it but he knew he hated it.

One day, the two were writing to each other per usual. Michael unintentionally added a pun in one of his comments, causing Y/N to giggle. Michael cocked his head to the side in confusion, strangely feeling heat rise his face and his heart speed up. It was air conditioned so he suspected he may have gotten sick.

Whenever the two had to go back to their cells, that feeling suddenly disappeared. Then it hit him. Oh fuck-

Hell, only a week later did Y/N feel herself experiencing the same symptoms. Michael notices that Y/N would shake and fidget a lot when they interacted, making him wonder of she was cold. As a friend, it was only right for him to sit next to her and hold her close to keep her warm, right? Y/N's face went red and damn that was embarrassing. But of course, that didn't mean Y/N wouldn't hug him back.

Eventually the two were basically cuddling. The two hugging each other warmly as Y/N rested her head on his chest, struggling to stay awake as they got more comfortable by the second.

But of course, Dr Loomis caught eye of that.

The doctor had been looking deep into al the interactions these two evil beings have had. They act so casual, so normal with each other, surely more than just drawing is happening between them, right?

The doctor had pulled them into his office separately to interrogate them. While Y/N bluntly answered his questions to make him just shut up as quickly as possible, she couldn't help but think to herself. She knows that she and Michael are mentally ill, but he should definitely be fixed by now. He's smart and creative and can casually talk to people, so it's like the only thing keeping him here is that the doctors are so ill-equipped that they can't make the necessary breakthrough to save him.

Of course, just a month later, another incident happened like this. Y/N was having a bad migraine so Michael got her to just sit down and wait for him during lunch. He brought over two trays of food for them and was sure to trade with Y/N so she can eat the things she likes and he could have the things she dislikes.

Another time, a bipolar guy ran into Michael and shoved him as if it was his fault. Michael shoved him back instinctively, causing a fight to disperse between the two. As security guards took notice, Y/N was quick to push Michael away softly and ball a fist to punch the fuck out of that guy- like a, "YO WHATCHU SAY ABOUT MY MAN?" type shit. Y/N did this to seem like she was hitting back and that Michael hadn't done anything wrong.

And when each other's birthday's rolled around, they had their own celebration. Y/N was given her own paper mache mask as a gift and a small cupcake from the cafe. Michael was given stolen art supplies that were taken from other guests and also a cupcake.

Y/N slowly stopped having panic attacks, but she definitely had her moments. Of course, Michael sat with her through it.

Dr Loomis recorded all this shit so he can gather data on Michael. Then the question hit him: How would Michael react if Y/N was gone for a few days? Does he truly care about her or is he just using her?

If you think Michael hated Loomis before, wait til he pieced together the disappearance of girlfriend and the extensive eyesight on him from security guards. For the hell he raised about it, he had to get sterilized and put into a cell without being able to get out for a few days.

Y/N remained bored in her cell for days. So what better could she do than annoy the guard watching her? She would just talk nonstop for what felt like hours and hours. The dude watching her was just getting more pissed off by the second.

"Would you shut up? Crazy bitch," he hissed, hitting the cell door. Y/N giggled cockily, shaking her head. Even if she deserved to be yelled at for continuing to talk, the Card of Death refused to back down. But when the guard went inside her cell and locked the door behind him, she got a bit worried.

Y/N got off her bed and threatened him cockily, to which he responded with physical force.

Of course, Smith's Groove is ill-equipped so even with proof of being hit and tazed, Y/N couldn't do anything to get the guard fired. But Michael?

A full month without seeing each other was like a slow suicide. But when they finally got to see each other again, the two was sure to write so much about their time alone as if they were teenage friends discussing their fun weekends. However, things turned dark whenever Y/N brought up the guard.

Michael didn't show any emotions at all, no matter what happens. But Y/N learned to guess how he's feeling depending on how long he takes to respond. Slowed blinking as if he was in thought, and slower reading as got analyze her writing closer were typically bad signs.

About a year had passed since they met at this time. A year to plan to escape. By now, the two were both 21 and fully prepared to leave once and for all.

Whenever that security guard had walked passed Michael's cell one night, Michael had knocked on the door to signal him. Michael slipped a paper through the doorslot, as he was given paper since he doesn't talk, saying he found a dead mouse in his cell. The guard just huffed and let himself inside. Michael pointed to where the mouse supposedly was; and that was a mistake for the guard.

Right as that guard went to look, Michael got behind and covered his mouth before stabbing him in the neck with a paint brush that's but carved into a small blade. Within moments, the guard dropped dead onto the floor.

Taking the keys from the guard, Michael was able to let out nearly every single prisoner to this hell out of their cells. Including Y/N.

The world sister was the only thing left of the pair as it was engraved into the door of Michael's cell. And just like that, the two were gone.

How they got there so fast doesn't matter but eventually Y/N and Michael found an abandoned house to station at until the search around the area disappeared and they could move around quicker.

"I can't fucking believe it," Y/N cheered as she felt tears run down her face from happiness. She swayed across the room, taking in the smell of dust and air. Even something dirty felt so new to her that couldn't help but love it at the moment.

Michael would watch her as he sat down in an old wooden chair, cocking his head. His body was in complete shock as the realization of all that's happened in the past years came crashing down on him. This was the real world? This is what dust smells like? This is what shattered glass and broken wood looks like? This is what trees look like up close? This is what things look like without glass tinting the color?

This is what it feels like to celebrate with someone you love? Michael reminded himself that the girl in front of him changed his life so much. His urge to harm all around him was always so strong, but the thought of her being hurt felt a bad taste in his mouth.

He stood up from the chair, walking towards the ecstatic girl as she cried happily to herself and picked up random things to remind herself of what they feel like and all she takes for granted. She turned her head to him, smiling, "Michael, look, I found a-"

Y/N gasped as Michael gripped his mask and slowly moved it. Y/N watched in awe as for the first time, she saw her only friend in this world's real face. That pale skin and soulless eyes that she grew familiar with became so new to her again.

"Michael..." she whispered, stepping closer to him. Her face heated up as she felt the weight his eyes staring down at her. She lightly bit her lip, a shiver going down her spine.

He took a few steps closer as well, making the two remain inches away from each other. Now at this point, Y/N is questioning if Michael is gonna kill her or is gonna kiss her as he awkwardly put his hand to her cheek, brushing her hair away. She leaned her head into his hand, keeping eye contact with him the whole time.

In just a matter of moments, the two came together in a soft kiss. The moment was quiet as the two did their best to remain calm and together as this moment that was little way's overdue continued.

When the two pulled away, Y/N was quick to wrap her arms around him. Now she wasn't going to cry about it, but damn was that contact she needed so badly. The Death Card and The Shape were basically Yin and Yang with how one is emotional and the other in emotionless but their need for pain and each other is what kept it healthy.

Just imagine how much suffering families went through since the two got out.

#michael myers x y/n #michael myers x you #michael myers x reader #michael myers #horror movies x reader #horror movies #slashers #slashers x y/n #slashers x you #slashers x reader #halloween #reader insert #x reader #killer reader #movie villains #aaaaaah #request #i love u #thanks for the request!

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