#that pain is what confirms im still here

[catinasink]

gonna go put away my food

[definitelynotshouting]

Can I ask, since you mentioned agreeing 'even if under duress' - how did the Watchers convince Player Grian to join them in hunger au?

So take this with the specific grain of salt that ive never watched Evo directly (but have friends who have ((thank you wren)), so i know tidbits via osmosis from them), but my thought has always been that the riddles the Watchers gave the Evo Players were all tests used to measure cleverness and intelligence-- the whole point of them attempting to copy the mind of a Player into a Watcher larva in the first place was to try and avoid the insanely high infant mortality rate their typical juveniles go through, bc they dont understand their own limits enough to even know they have them yet. So they needed a Player they knew they could instruct and who would listen to them, and, well. Grian, for all he was rebellious and outright defiant of the Watchers, still solved their puzzles and only had to be punished once before he stopped trying to mess with them

What ive always pictured is after the dragon fight the two main elders of the Watcher colony finally revealed themselves to Grian properly-- i have this crystal clear image of the two of them hovering above and next to the central end island, looming over Grian, and like, these guys are big. HUGE. A good 5x bigger than the ender dragon itself, at LEAST. It would be hard not to feel insanely intimidated by that, honestly, especially when there are two of them side by side, blocking your entire view of the End from that direction.

Anyway picture that with the context of these two giant floating winged worms youve never seen before, who have demonstrated their powerful ability to manipulate code in a way you cant.... telling you that they have chosen you to become one of them. Thats an immense amount of pressure, both from flattery and fear, especially considering theyve punished you before for defying them. I like to think even then, Grian balked a bit, and while i dont have exact dialogue beats here, i know the Watchers continued putting that pressure on him (likely while leveraging his friendships too-- like ive always said, if Grian hadnt been chosen, BigB wouldve been, and i can absolutely see the Watchers offering to take him in Grian's stead) until he finally caved and accepted their "offer" of joining them.

Unfortunately, he didnt find out exactly what that entailed until it was far too late.

[feyascorner]

okay first of all i ADORE ur writing… wanna take a bite out of it..

anyway… uh… can i uhh… order a uhh…. astarion x tav.. and like..tav has a fucking insane pain tolerance and always has.. and like… uhh… one time she gets fucking TOTALED in a fight and like obvi it would hurt… and shes like crying subconsciously.. and when some1 points it out shes like “what???? why am i crying wtf???” and like looks down and is just fucking BLEEDING… n then.. astarion comfort…

only if u want thoo!!!!

a/n. Im like the exact opposite I'm very dramatic about the slightest pain but this is such a cute request so Ty!! ALSO PLS EXCUSE IF THIS IS A LITTLE CLUNKY I HAD TO TYPE THIS OUT W MY FINGERS🫠🫠

Astarion is grateful for your tolerance to pain.

Of course, he doesn't particularly enjoy watching you in pain, but he’s no fool. He knows the sting and the soreness that comes after he drinks from your neck. Well, at least, it should sting. However, it never seemed to bother you, and for that, he's forever grateful for it.

These strange sentiments expand past his thirst for blood, as the relief he feels when you’re battered up after a battle and you smile at him as if nothing’s wrong is incomparable to any other feeling he’s felt.

That relief does not come currently, however.

The battle was nearly hopeless. Overwhelmed in number, mages casting counterspell, fighters constantly aiming at you…he’s lost track of it all. By some miracle you and your companions stand victorious, and when he sees that you offer Karlach a lopsided smile, confirming that you're fine, he reaches to pick up one of his daggers.

“Tav—what in the hells, are you okay?”

It’s then that he spots the way your lip quivers and tears glisten threateningly at your eyes. And when you meet his own, they begin to drip down your cheeks like crystals and roll off your chin. He's seen you in tears before, but out of something more positive—not from pain. Before he can even tell what he's doing, he's rushing toward you.

“Why are you—” he sees the blood seeping from your stomach, and his face would've gone pale if he could.

You finally lift your hands to your face, eyes wide when your fingertips brush against the dampness of your cheeks. “Oh. Why am I?…”

Shadowheart scrambles to scrimmage around her bag. “Here, let me—gods, where did I—did we use all the healing potions?—”

“Oh for hells sake. Because you're bleeding!” Astarion hisses, his hand intertwining with yours as he drags you toward the nearest tree where he sits you down. He freezes when you flinch but you shake your head, wiping at your eyes. Your other companions are still searching the enemy corpses for anything that might relieve you of the pain, but they're taking far too long for his liking.

“I’m okay, it doesn't really hurt that much.”

“You’re crying.”

“I didn't even know I was-” you wince.

His eyes narrow. “Lay down.”

“What? No, I’m really fine!”

“Gods, love, please for once, listen to me. It’s quite straining to watch you clamber around with that ghastly wound on your stomach.”

You frown, but he guides you down anyway, careful to lay down your head against the grass. “Now wait patiently. Maybe if we’re lucky, our dear friends will find a potion before I start developing wrinkles.”

A momentary silence hangs in the air. It’s by no means uncomfortable, but there are words on the tip of his tongue he wishes to say. And when he notices you staring, he sighs.

“If you're hurt, tell us. I don't care how high your pain tolerance is—if you're hurt, call us. Call me. Don't be a fool and bleed out over a few enemies when we’ve been through so much worse.”

The sincerity in his voice is almost embarrassing. But with the way you're watching him so seriously, he can't bring himself to dwell on such irrelevant factors.

Then, you smile again, as if you've forgotten about the pain. “How minor can the pain be for me to call you?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“Can I call you when I stub a toe?”

“Absolutely not.”

“I will.”

He stares at you with lidded eyes and you laugh. He feels the weight on his shoulders get a bit lighter.

“You may call for me whenever you wish.”

[miirohs]

cariño [c.s.z]

pairing: Mob Boss!Carlos Sainz x GN!Reader wc: 1.3k cw: blood, implied off screen violence an: i cannot write hurt/comfort, forgive me for this raw ahh fic... i actually did most of the spanish in here myself though my spanish sucks for someone whos been learning for two years. also this better do well or im actually going to ragequit (not).

“Carlos?” You sat up, eyes heavy as you turned your head in the direction of the bathroom. 

There was a crack in the bathroom door, a sliver of light faintly illuminating the room. You could hear him clunking around inside, soft groans of pain reverberating around the room. He’d been in there for god knows how long, leaving you restless as you waited for him to somehow come back.

Pulling yourself out of bed, you tiptoed across the room, pushing the bathroom door open quietly.

A mess was all that greeted you.

You grimaced at the smell of iron staining the air, slightly pushing the gun that sat right at your feet. Various articles of clothing had been discarded all over the floor, a trail of blood stained the floors and the granite countertops.

Your eyes followed it to the bathtub, where you saw Carlos laying. His breathing was shallow, head tipped back against the edge of the bathtub, exposing the cuts all over the visible upper half of his body. 

He wore nothing but a white undershirt, pants seemingly still on as they weren’t among the pile of clothes you’d seen earlier. Hearing you shuffled seemed to wake him from his dazed state, head turning in your direction. You froze.

The low lights seemed to cast a shadow over his eyes, barely hiding his bloodshot eyes, full of frustration and irritation as he stared at you. 

“Creí haberte dicho que no me molestaras (I thought I told you not to bother me)…” He trailed off, annoyed expression on his face softening into something less harsh at the sight of you, “…Y/n. Is something wrong?”

“What happened?” You murmured softly as you approached him, causing him to try to sit up in the tub as.

“Nothing cariño, please go back to bed, I'm sorry for disturbing your sleep.” He groaned, offering you a faint smile as if to comfort you. In all honesty, it made you all the more unsettled at his disheveled appearance, like an itch you couldn’t seem to rid yourself of.

“Carlos, who’s blood is this?” The question made the smile drop off his face, a closed off expression taking its place as you got closer to him. 

“You don’t need to worry about it.” He snapped suddenly, glaring at you as if daring you to take another step closer. “No más de esto, déjalo cariño (no more of this, let it go sweetheart).”

You didn’t listen to him, gently sitting yourself down next to the tub. The cold was a sharp contrast to the heat in your legs.

Looking over, his hand was covering his waist, teeth gritted in pain as you reached down to move his hand. 

Pausing, you looked to him for confirmation and he nodded, despite his former reservation about you seeing him in that state.

Gingerly, you lifted his hand off, eyes widened at the sight of blood soaked in his shirt.

“Te lo dije (I told you),” He retorted with a frown, “I told you so, I didn’t want you seeing all of this.”

“Could you roll it up so I could at least see what's wrong?” You fretted, fingers lightly running up and down the ribbed material of his undershirt.

Exasperated, he obliged, pulling the material that seemed to stick to his skin.

“What the fuck happened…” You trailed off, breathing becoming uneven as you scanned the expanse of his wound, cutting through his skin and exposing the flesh. His ribs were bruised up, various other cuts around the area of the wound.

Worst of all, the coppery smell seem to burn your throat, tears welling up in your eyes at the sight.

“Breath, mí felicidad,” He groaned, bringing up his hand to your own and caressing your knuckles, “I’ve had worse happen to me, and you panicking will not make things easier.”

“But we should call the doctor-”

“We can’t,” He insisted, straining as he sat up to look at you, “You need to do it. There should be a first aid kit in the cabinets, can you get it?” Even as he was bleeding out there in the tub, he had such an intense gaze, mixed with some form of adoration as he watched you.

Reluctantly you got up, opening up the cabinets to shuffle through the boxes, hands eventually hitting something in the back. You pulled out a big black box, and he nodded as confirmation that it was indeed the right box.

You were shaking slightly as you set it down next to you, opening up the box. There were various supplies such as painkillers, bandaids, gauze, even sterilized materials resting at the bottom in their packets.

You shakily cleaned your hands, pulling out everything you could need before putting on the gloves you had found sifting through the box.

“What- what do i do now Carlitos?” You whimpered, swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat as you pulled the antiseptic out. 

He grimaced at the sight, but nonetheless shook his head, moving so he could show the wound to you.

“It stopped bleeding a while ago, so it needs to be cleaned so that it doesn’t get infected, then we can think about stitches.”

The thought made your stomach churn but you pushed aside the nausea, gently dipping a cotton ball in antiseptic and bringing it to his wound. He hissed as you wiped away the dirt and sweat, his jaw clenched tightly, but he didn’t protest.

At some point during the whole process, his hand had reached up to you, running up and down your arm rather gently for someone having a needle stuck in them. You could hear him wincing softly, licking his lips as you pulled the needle through his skin another time. 

His grip on your arm tightened a couple times, but not to the point of making you uncomfortable, more as a way of telling you it hurt even if he put on a stoic expression.

The final stitch was made, and you could finally breathe a sigh of relief as you wrapped the gauze around his waist.

Done," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "You'll be okay now?"

“Sí, gracias mí amor (yes, thank you my love),” He murmured, offering you a kiss on the forehead as he hauled himself out of the tub, seating you down on the lid as he limped to the sink. You sat in silence as he wiped the blood off himself, watching as he grimaced at the bruises and various other cuts.

The gravity of the situation was still fresh on your mind, a sense of unease as you watched him lean over the sink.

“What happened tonight…?” You stopped, noticing how he had tensed up once again. You had touched a sore spot, obviously one fresh in his mind. “If you don’t want to answer-”

“Some fucker brought a knife and tried to sabatoge me during the meeting, but I made sure to personally take care of him before I left the room. I couldn’t say the others were very happy with me, I think they were just unhappy it wasn’t me who dropped dead this time.” He chuckled incredulously, heart dropping to your stomach as the implications of what could have happened floated through your head.

He must have noticed your reaction, because his simpered smirk slowly turned into a look of realization about what his words must’ve meant.

“Ay cariño, i didn’t mean to worry you like that,” He cooed, reaching over to pull the hair out of your face, “I love you. You trust me, don’t you?”

You nodded, leaning into his touch.

“Venga, dímelo (come on, tell me) cariño.”

“I do trust you,” You repeated to him, looking into his eyes as he broke into a faint smile, “just promise me you won’t come home like this, don’t die on me.”

He stroked your hair, bringing you closer to him. “And I will, mí amor, I will.” 

You didn’t have to know of the things he did to others, the things he’d done just to come home to you. All that was important, at the end of the day, was that he’d always come back to you.

[stevie-petey]

episode eight: the gate

“Drop me and die.” Your knuckles are white as they clutch the rope, your body shaking with exhaustion as you try to ease your way down without further injuring your ribs.  Steve laughs and tightens his grip on your waist, steadying you as you finally inch the rest of the way down and land with a gentle thud onto the ground. “Like I’d ever dream of letting you go.” This time, you know it’s his words that cause you to shiver, not the exhaustion and pain.

Summary: you encourage nancy to take your place (everyone is shocked), you and steve are the newest babysitters in town, billy ruins things as always, tunnels are weird when youre concussed, you remind jonathan of an old promise, and when the snowball comes you make your own promise with steve that you know you can keep.

Rating: general, although very violent

Warnings: use of y/n, fem!reader, intense violence and blood, weapons, monsters, probably more im forgetting

Words: 20.1k (no one speak to me)

Before you swing in: this is it ,,, the final episode of season two <3 this chapter was both the easiest and hardest one ive ever written. there are scenes in here that i put so much into, and im so proud of where everything landed. handling so many relationships and dynamics was so incredibly difficult, but i adore where they ended up. i hope you guys do, too :)

-

“Eleven,”

“Mike.”

The two kids embrace, Mike holding desperately onto El as if he’s afraid she’ll disappear again any second, and she’s holding onto him just as tightly as their tears mix together. 

You watch them with a hand over your heart, your own tears spilling over. You can’t believe this is real, that El is standing in Mike’s arms alive and real.

The way they cling to each other brings more tears to your eyes. It’s obvious to everyone how much they love one another. You think about the endless batches of brownies you baked for Mike, how many nights you spent in his basement standing watch, looking for any sign of grief, in case he needed you there to remind him that it’s okay to cry. 

“Is that…?” Max asks Lucas, and he nods. 

“She’s back.” You exhale, feeling Dustin’s fingers slip between yours. He knows how much you missed El, he’s spent just as many nights keeping watch over you, reminding you to cry as well. 

Mike pulls away, his eyes shining with tears. “I never gave up on you. I called you every night. Every night for–”

“353 days.” El finishes for him, you’ve never heard so much emotion in her voice. “I heard.”

You think about the nights you found Mike huddled underneath the fort he once built for El in his basement, clutching the radio to his chest, passed out from exhaustion. You never mentioned it to the boy, knowing he’d simply deny and tell you it was nothing, but hearing El confirm what you already knew still hurts. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were there?” 

You look around the room now, wondering the same as Mike, and then your eyes land on Hopper. While everyone looks surprised or confused at El’s reappearance, Hopper’s face is one of resignation. 

Everything clicks. 

He knew.

Hopper sees that you’ve pieced it together and steps forward. “Because I wouldn’t let her.”

You step forward as well so that you’re next to Mike, knowing that this will only upset him more. “You knew.”

“What the hell is this?” The chief ignores you, now speaking only to El. “Where’ve you been?”

“Where have you been?” El’s eyes darken, but she immediately melts when Hopper pulls her into a hug. By watching their body language, you can tell that they love each other dearly, and distantly you remember hearing about the daughter Hopper once had. 

Though you’re angry he hid El from you, you’re thankful they found one another in the end. You’ve never seen Hopper so tender with someone, and El seems to feel safe within his embrace, far from the skittish girl you found in the woods last year. 

“You’ve been hiding her!” Lost in your thoughts, you momentarily forget about Mike, who launches himself at Hopper and punches the man’s chest. “You’ve been hiding her this whole time!”

Hopper flinches away. “Hey–”

“Mike,” you grab his shoulders, knowing his anger will only do more harm than good, but he struggles against you as he tries to continue hitting the man. “We can all talk about this–”

“Let’s talk,” Hopper grabs at Mike’s shirt, finally forcing the kid to stop. Then, looking directly at you, he adds. “Alone.”

You look at Mike, silently asking him what he needs from you. You know the two of them need to settle their differences, that he feels Hopper’s betrayal the deepest and you trust him to make his own choices. However, with one headshake from him, you would prevent Mike from being alone with Hopper in a heartbeat. 

Mike knows this, he doesn’t have to even have to ask what you mean when you gently nod your chin at him. Taking a deep breath, the boy sighs and nods at you, indicating that he’ll talk with the cop. 

You let go of Mike and gently push him towards Hopper. “He’s all yours, but try not to kill him, please? I unfortunately like the kid.”

Hopper doesn’t play into your words and promptly grabs the back of Mike’s hoodie and marches him towards Will’s room. The door closes behind them, leaving you to deal with El.

Her nose is bleeding and she looks upset having Mike taken from her, there’s an exhaustion behind her eyes that you’re all too familiar with. You wrap an arm around her waist and pull her into you. “C’mere, sweetheart.”

El leans into the kiss you press upon her cheek and closes her eyes, relishing in the tenderness after the night she’s had. “Missed you.”

“And I missed you.” You place another kiss on her head. “The hairstyle suits you, by the way.”

This seems to lighten the girl up a bit, who giggles and quietly thanks you as she wraps her arms fully around you now, securing you into a hug. You allow her all the time she needs to collect herself. 

When you hear Mike’s heartbroken screams at Hopper, calling him a liar, you squeeze your arms tighter around El. “They’ll be fine,” you promise her, feeling the need to reassure her of this, though hearing Mike’s screams breaks your heart.

You understand why Hopper hid El, it wasn’t safe for anyone to know about her being alive, but Mike spent the entire year grieving for her. He lost a year of his childhood mourning the loss of a close friend, of someone he loves, and it isn’t fair to expect him to accept this. 

El nods at your reassurance before you’re suddenly shoved away from her. 

“You’re hogging the former dead girl, Y/N!” Dustin exclaims as he engulfs El into a hug. 

Lucas flashes you an apologetic smile before hugging the girl as well, focusing his attention on her. “We missed you.”

“I missed you too.” She responds, squeezing both boys tight. 

“We talked about you pretty much every day.” Dustin pulls away before pointing at you. “Y/N usually just cried.”

You elbow your brother, causing him to wince. “You say that like I don’t normally cry over things.”

Dustin opens his mouth to argue, but suddenly El’s fingers are pinching at his lips as she pries his jaw open. Your brother looks at you in alarm, and you’re too stunned to do anything besides watch in bewilderment. 

“Teeth.” El finally says,

You giggle, while Dustin simply stares at her as if she’s insane. “What?”

“You have teeth.”

Dustin breaks into a smile. “Oh, you like these pearls?”

When he makes an obscure purring sound with his mouth, you scoff at your brother and roll your eyes alongside Lucas. “Please, never do that ever again.”

“Eleven?” Max now approaches with a warm smile on her face, the most open you’ve ever seen the girl, and extends her hand for El to shake. “Hey, um. I’m Max. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

El looks at you and tilts her head, which you assume means she’s unsure what to do, so you step in. “Max is a friend, sweetheart.”

She eyes Max’s hand, looks up at her again, before bypassing the girl completely and going straight into Joyce’s arms.

You frown, confused by El’s unusual dismissiveness, and look over at Max. Her head is ducked down, embarrassed, and you make a mental note to remind yourself later to ask El what happened. Max is a good girl, they deserve to be friends and you know they’d get along if given the chance.

Joyce cradles El’s head and greets her with tears, and the girl responds the same. After they’ve hugged, El pulls away, her tears now ones of worry. “Can I see him?”

Joyce’s eyes flash to you, and the two of you seem to realize the same thing: it’s no coincidence that El arrived when she did. You think about what Dustin and the kids deciphered in morse code, Will’s hidden message. 

Close the gate. 

El is the only person you know can do it. 

“Go take her to him,” you tell Joyce. “I’ll catch everyone else up.”

The woman nods, her eyes appreciative, before gently guiding El towards Will’s room. 

“I’m assuming I’m ‘everyone’.” Steve says as soon as Joyce and El have left. 

You laugh, finally rejoining his side. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“Alright, catch me up then. Who was the girl and why does she have a bloody nose problem?”

“Her name is Eleven, or El. Besides the Demogorgon, and Demodogs, did we ever discuss El?”

Nancy speaks up from the corner, timid. “I, uh… Didn’t tell Steve a lot. We kinda just, we–we didn’t ever really–”

“I never let Nancy explain, and I was too afraid to ask.” Steve kindly saves Nancy, and something both you and Jonathan take note of. 

“Well,” you clap your hands, dispelling away any remaining tension for both your sake and the kids’ sakes. “El has these powers, she can make things move with her mind, and when she uses them she gets nose bleeds.”

Steve stares at you. “Okay…”

“Mhm. It’s just as insane as it sounds. Remember the whole Upside Down story Dustin and I told you about yesterday? Well, she can travel there and has a connection to it. With her mind. Somehow. I don’t actually know the logistics of it.”

“You’re doing great, bug.” Jonathan’s voice drips with sarcasm, but Dustin hits his chest to shut him up. 

“Thanks, Dustin. Anyways, El has these insane powers and she’s the sweetest, softest person I’ve ever met. We…” your voice trails off now, still getting used to the fact that she’s alive. “We thought we lost her last year, when she killed the Demogorgon and helped bring Will back.”

“But she’s alive.” Steve concludes. 

You nod, a natural smile spreading across your face. “She is.”

“If you say she’s the sweetest person you’ve ever met, then I definitely believe you.”

Steve’s words make you blush, the pure and honest way he says them, and both Dustin and Jonathan cringe. The two boys share a look, both for once on the same page in a long time, and make gagging motions. 

You see this and flick both of their heads. “I know where you both sleep.”

Both boys stick their tongue out at you, and for a moment everything feels normal. Jonathan and Dustin are teasing you, Jonathan’s eyes are lit up, and your brother is carefree again. 

Then Joyce returns to the living room with El and the mood becomes somber again. 

They stand over the kitchen table, El stares down at the piece of paper with the “close gate” on it, and Joyce asks the question you’ve all been wondering. “You opened this gate before, right?”

“Yes,” the girl responds as you and everyone else now join her and Joyce. 

“Do you think if we got you back there, that you could close it?”

El looks between you and Joyce, her gaze stony and resigned. You wonder what else she’s gone through to put such a void within her; like all the other kids, she no longer has a sweet naivety to her.

Then, slowly, El nods. 

– 

“It’s not like it was before. It’s grown. A lot.” Everyone stands in the kitchen, circling around Hopper as he explains exactly what the gate now is. “I mean, that’s considering we can get in there. The place is crawling with those dogs.”

You grab Dustin’s shirt and yank harshly at it. “Don’t you dare–”

“Demodogs.”

Hopper looks at him, sighing. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Please just ignore him.” You plead with the officer, knowing he’s already in a bitchy mood. 

Dustin doesn’t pick up on the anger, though. “I said, uh… Demodogs. Like Demogorgon and dogs.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, rubbing at your temples. You’ve heard this explanation of the word play a million times within the last twenty-four hours. If you have to hear Dustin explain what Demodog means one more time, you think you may murder the kid.

Dustin, unfortunately, continues. “You put them together… it sounds pretty badass–”

“How is this important right now?” Hopper snaps at the boy, which only makes you more annoyed. 

You put your hand up at the old man, closing your fingers together to mimic a mouth being shut. “One more aggressive comment to the thirteen year old and I will show you that Nancy isn’t the only one who can shoot a gun.”

“Uh, Y/N…” Jonathan nervously mumbles, unsure what Hopper’s reaction may be. 

However, the chief simply raises an eyebrow at you, stares you down for a few seconds, before finally seeming to decide that he’s impressed with your bold comment. “I’ll make sure to remember that.”

“I can do it.” El suddenly voices from the other end of the table.

“You’re not hearing me.” Hopper’s shoulders slump. You can tell by his now defeated stance that he has yet to win an argument against El, something that you’re incredibly proud of her for. 

“I’m hearing you. I can do it.”

“Even if El can, there’s still another problem.” Mike speaks up, looking around the table to ensure everyone is listening. “If the brain dies, the body dies.”

Max frowns. “I thought that was the whole point.”

“It is, but if we’re really right about this…”

“Will,” you breathe out quietly with dread, understanding where Mike is going with this.

Mike continues explaining. “I mean, if El closes the gate and kills the mind flayer’s army–”

“Will’s a part of that army.” Lucas finishes as he looks over at you, now knowing why you’ve just exhaled the boy’s name with grief. 

“Closing the gate will kill him.” 

Jonathan tenses at Mike’s words, and you place your hand against the back of his neck in a grounding manner. You can feel his rapid heartbeat against your hand, even from this position, and you play with his hair to try and soothe him. 

He’s terrified of what may happen to his little brother, once again struck with pure terror that he could lose him. You’re not sure how many more times Jonathan can grieve his brother without losing a piece of himself.

Steve, standing on your other side, sees the way your fingers intertwine in Jonathan’s hair. The same way they did earlier with his own hair as you hugged him.

He frowns, looking away. 

Everyone else falls silent as well, Mike’s words hang in the air. Your gaze shifts to Joyce, who has a deep frown on her face, and before you ask her what she’s thinking, she stands up from the table. “Follow me.”

No one says anything as you all follow the woman to Jonathan’s room, where Will lays motionless on top of the bed you’ve slept in for years. His body is stiff, the hospital gown swallows him, and the sight disturbs you. 

You walk over to the boy and kneel next to the bed. It’s in your nature to take care of Will, you do this without even thinking about it. Stroking his forehead, you place a kiss against it as you watch his mom in the doorway.

“He likes it cold.” Joyce mumbles, eying the open window in the room. 

“What?” Asks Hopper, standing behind the woman. 

Joyce looks over at her son now. “It’s what Will kept saying to me. He likes it cold.” Then, as her voice grows stronger, she walks over to the window and slams it shut. “We keep giving it what it wants.”

Nancy and Jonathan walk over to you now, the girl remains standing while Jonathan kneels down next to you. The two of you take turns caressing Will’s forehead as Nancy starts to speak. “If this thing is a virus, and Will’s the host, then…”

“Then we need to make the host uninhabitable.” 

You turn to Jonathan, not at all liking what he’s saying. “What does that even mean? He’s a kid, how do you make a child’s body uninhabitable?”

“He likes it cold.” Nancy says, as if that explains everything. 

“But–”

Joyce clenches her jaw and spits out, “We need to burn it out of him.”

Everything about what Joyce has said makes your stomach twist. You look down at Will’s body, at how small he still is despite a year of trying to get him to recover, and his pale skin is almost translucent in the bedroom’s lighting. 

You hate everything about what’s happening, but you hate the way Will looks lifeless even more. 

If making his body uninhabitable can save him, then you have to try; you’ll simply be there to pick up the pieces when it’s done, as you always are. 

The kids begin planning now.

“We have to do it somewhere he doesn’t know this time.” Mike says. 

“Yeah, somewhere far away.” Dustin adds on. 

“Last I checked, none of us have a hidden hut in the woods.” You say, at a loss for where else to possibly take Will. Then, Hopper clears his throat and shifts his weight. “Oh, no fucking way. You would have a hidden hut in the woods.”

“It’s a cabin.” Hopper corrects with annoyance, though there’s a slight glint in his eye as he looks at you. “Joyce and Jonathan will take Will there.”

“Well, go show them the cabin, then.”

Jonathan grabs your hand. “You’re not coming with?”

As if there’s a string tugging at the back of your head, you turn around and catch Steve’s eye. He’s standing in the doorway, eyes alert yet sad, and you know with everything within you that you can’t leave him behind. 

Not when he was shaking in your arms only twenty minutes prior. 

Steve doesn’t want to be alone, especially not when you’d be leaving him behind with Nancy after it’s become clear that she’s with Jonathan now. 

Now, as Jonathan’s open and expecting eyes stare into yours, you do something you’ve never done before. Something you’ve needed to do ever since you were twelve and grabbed the boy’s hand on the Wheeler’s porch that fateful night.

You let go of Jonathan. 

“I can’t,” you tell him, the words of denial feeling foreign on your tongue. You’ve never told him no before, never left him behind, but saying the words isn’t as difficult as you once feared. “I’ll stay with the kids, I’m better with them anyways.”

Jonathan watches you, his eyes trace over your face again and again as if drinking it in for the very last time. When he seems to find what he’s looking for, he takes a deep breath and nods. “Yeah, okay.”

His understanding of everything you don’t say almost makes you take it all back, but you don’t. Instead, you squeeze his hand and nod towards Nancy. “Why don’t you take Nance?”

Something shifts when you say this, you know Jonathan feels it as well. There’s an ease within the shift, almost akin to a soft exhale in December’s cold. It parts you with a gentle farewell, strokes your cheek as it departs, and you can faintly see its outline as it floats away. 

A thread, one that has tugged within your chest in a painful ache since last year, finally loosens. 

Nancy looks at you, her eyes wide. “Me?”

“Mhm,” you nod at the girl, a kind smile on your face. 

It’s a monumental shift, you’re willingly encouraging Nancy to be next to Jonathan’s side rather than you. It’s an exchange of powers, trusting her to take care of the boy you love so dearly. 

For once, it doesn’t feel like you’re tearing off a piece of yourself. Instead, you’re simply sharing the weight of it, of this trust, rather than losing it.

“I… I think I’ll stay here.” Nancy finally says, looking away in shame.

You don’t blame her, you know she carries a weight of guilt within her for things she couldn’t control. There’s a lot you want to say to her, a lot you have to say to her, but for now you simply nod at her, understanding. “Then I’m happy you’re here.”

And you mean it.

Steve, still quietly standing in the doorway, sees everything. He felt the shift, too.

– 

“You should go with him.” Steve picks up a spare heater, he and Nancy have been sent outside to retrieve whatever they could find from the Byers’ yard. 

The shift weighs heavily upon him. Your words ring in his ears. 

Nancy spares Steve a glance. “What?”

“With Jonathan.” He bends down to dig through some old Christmas lights, and seeing them reminds him of you. Everything reminds him of you. “Y/N’s right. You should go with him.”

“No, I–” Nancy scoffs, uncomfortable. “I’m not just gonna leave Mike.”

Steve thinks about you, about how you’re always the one who stays. “No one’s leaving anyone.” He walks over to Nancy and helps her with a radiator she’s struggling with. “I may be a shitty boyfriend, but… I realized I’m actually a pretty damn good friend and babysitter.”

Though he never says your name, Nancy can feel it hang over the two of them. The unspoken confession that it’s because of you that Steve now accepts what has happened between them. It strikes her then, how different he is now. How differently you and the girl came to know Steve.

Nancy stares at him, her eyes are filled with more remorse than he’s ever seen from the girl. It hurts, seeing her so upset, and he wishes that things could’ve been different. He recognizes now that they didn’t stand a chance, though he’s happy they tried anyways. It was always going to end like this between them.

Steve doesn’t hold any anger towards her, he doesn’t hate her, because he still loves her. 

How could you possibly fault the person you love for finding their own love?

“Steve…” His name comes through as an apology.

“It’s okay, Nance.” Steve means it, he gives her the same blessing that you did. She’s allowed to be happy, you both want her to be happy, and you have each other to lean on now. “Y/N and I will be okay.”

He leaves Nancy standing there.

– 

You’re waiting to say goodbye to El, standing patiently behind Mike as the two of them make promises about coming back. It’s sweet, watching them, until they slowly start to lean in for what you fear is a kiss, so you intervene. 

“Hate to ruin the moment, but I’d like to say goodbye to El, too.”

Mike glares at you. “Couldn’t wait five seconds?”

“A five second kiss is shameful, Wheeler.”

El giggles softly and pulls you into a hug. “I will be careful.”

You kiss her cheek. “Come back this time, okay?”

“I will.” 

Hopper calls the girl over to get in the car so they can leave, and you quickly run over to Jonathan’s car before he can get in. 

When he sees you approaching, he extends his arms out and pulls you in as he always does. No words are needed, he simply holds you so that you’re chest to chest and he can feel every breath you take. “I’ll come home to you.”

You bury your face in his neck, inhale the scent you’ve come to associate with your childhood and warm, sunny days. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” 

The words ease between the two of you, finally warm after months of being cold. 

Nancy then appears, and when you notice her you break away from Jonathan. “I see you’re joining?”

“I am.” She nods. “Seems I have you to thank.”

You smile and grab her hand. Your grip is firm, but sincere. “Don’t make me regret it, okay?”

Your words are teasing, but Nancy senses the undertones of a warning. Jonathan is your best friend, she has always known this, and she knows how much weight has gone into your trust for her. Nancy understands that you’re giving her something precious to you, and she will forever be indebted for it. 

“I won’t.” She promises. “And good luck with Steve and the kids.”

“Oh, I’ll need it.” You laugh, and any remaining tension that has hung over you and Nancy finally disappears. 

Once Jonathan and Nancy get into the car, you stand on the porch with Steve and everyone else as you watch the cars drive away. 

– 

 You poke around the Byers’ kitchen for some food; your stomach has been rumbling for hours and you’re sure the kids are hungry, too. However, like usual, you come up with nothing. As you dig through a cabinet, Dustin walks into the kitchen and starts clearing out the fridge. 

“What are you doing?” You ask, knowing that this can’t be for anything good. 

Dustin doesn’t answer, continuing to carelessly throw racks of food onto the floor.

“Hey, stop!” As you walk over, Steve suddenly comes rushing in, holding a very dead, and very disgusting, Demodog. 

“Is this really necessary?”

“Absolutely not.” 

Dustin groans at you. “C’mon, Y/N! This is absolutely necessary, it’s a groundbreaking scientific discovery.”

“It is a dead creature, from an alternate universe–” 

“We can’t just bury it like some common mammal, okay? It’s not a dog–”

“Oh, so now it’s not a dog after you’ve stated a million times that it’s a Demodog–”

Steve steps in between you and Dustin. “Alright, alright, enough!” He begins to shove the Demodog into the fridge before you can stop him. “But Dustin, you’re explaining this to Mrs. Byers, alright?”

“You both are idiots,” you mumble, watching as Steve and Dustin pathetically try to make the giant Demodog fit into the fridge. “I’m leaving.”

You’re seriously starting to regret their friendship. 

However, you know when to pick your battles, and as you watch the two boys try to maneuver the body into the fridge, you know that this is not a cause worth fighting for. 

Instead, you exit the kitchen and instruct the rest of the kids to start cleaning the house. It’s a mess, glass shattered everywhere from the dead Demodog and papers thrown haphazardly around during the morse decoding. 

The mess will only add more unneeded stress to Joyce’s life, so as Lucas and Max groan at you for making them do work, you stand your ground and shove a broom into their hands. 

“You suck, you know.” Lucas grumbles, but Max hits his shoulder and holds the dust pan as he sweeps.

As they get to work on the shattered glass, you figure it’s best that you call your mom before you forget again. You know she’s probably worried sick about you and Dustin for disappearing so suddenly without a word. 

However, when you walk over to the wall where the phone normally is, it’s gone. 

“Hey, uh. Where did the phone go?” You ask Dustin, who has finally left the kitchen. “I need to call mom.”

“Oh, Nancy threw it when it rang. She went kinda berserk.”

You look towards where Dustin is pointing and see the phone, in fact disconnected, on the ground across the room. The sight makes you snort. “Guess she really likes throwing phones, huh?”

Your brother doesn’t understand the joke. “What?”

“Nevermind,” you shake your head. There’s no use explaining to the boy about a quick, five second moment from last year. Nancy had done the exact same thing when Steve had tried to call the cops when the Demogorgon originally attacked you. 

Dustin mumbles something about your blood loss making you delusional, but you ignore him and begin sweeping the hallway. You order him to help, and soon the two of you are cleaning the Byers’ home. 

You’ve just finished sweeping when you notice Mike pacing around the room. He’s anxious, that much is obvious, and whenever he begins to pace: trouble soon follows. He’s brewing up a plan, you can feel it. 

After the fifth time the boy has paced the room, Lucas has finally had enough. “Mike, would you just stop already?”

“You weren’t in there, okay Lucas?” Mike stops pacing. “That lab is swarming with hundreds of those dogs.”

“Demodogs–oomph!” Dustin corrects, only to be cut off by your hand clamping over his mouth. 

“Say it again, I dare you.” You warn him before turning towards Mike. “Look, I know it’s nerve wracking, but all we can do right now is trust El’s abilities and wait.”

Lucas nods. “Yeah, the chief will also take care of her.”

“Like she needs protection.” Max quips from the floor, dustpan still in hand.

You feel a hand place itself on the small of your back. The weight of the palm is starting to become familiar to you, the length of the fingers and the way they splay across the span of your back are slowly becoming recognizable. 

Without turning, you know that Steve has joined you. 

“Listen, dude,” he says in a placating voice to Mike. “A coach calls a play in a game, bottom line, you execute it. Alright?”

You wince. While you’re impressed that Steve is trying to intervene and reason with Mike, you know immediately that his approach will fail. Trying to reason with the kid using a sport analogy is like trying to explain magic to a mathematician. 

“Okay, first of all, this isn’t some stupid sports game.” Mike rolls his eyes, which you expected. “And second, we’re not even in the game. We’re on the bench.”

“RIght! So–so my point… My point is…” Steve stumbles over his words and Mike’s unwavering insistence. When he can’t think of a better response, he lets out a defeated sigh. “Yeah, we’re on the bench, so–uh, there’s nothing we can do.”

You pity Steve, honestly. It takes years of careful analyzing and strategic planning in order to prepare yourself for an argument against Mike Wheeler. 

Patting his shoulder, step in to help. “What I’m sure Steve means is that while we may be benched, that doesn’t mean we can’t keep the homefront secure.”

“That’s not how sports work, Y/N.” Steve whispers obscenely loud, but quickly shuts up when you glare at him.

“Stupid sports analogy aside, there’s nothing we can do besides keep watch here and wait for everyone to return.” Even though you know you’re saying the right thing, that it’s best you follow Hopper’s order of staying put, even you don’t believe the words you’re saying. “We may not be able to help right now, but later, I promise we will be the best damn homefront ever.”

Dustin clears his throat. “That’s not entirely true.”

You turn to him and a sigh escapes you when you see the plan already forming behind his eyes. “I can’t argue with you, can I?”

“Nope.”

“Great, go on then. Share with the class what you’re thinking.”

“I mean, these Demodogs, they have a hive mind.” Dustin begins. “When they ran away from the bus, they were called away.”

Lucas thinks about this. “So if we get their attention…”  

“Maybe we can draw them away from the lab.” Max concludes, and you take a second to marvel at how seamlessly she’s integrated herself into the party.

However, you then remember what Lucas said. “Wait, what do you mean by ��get their attention’? Why do those words scare me so much?”

Mike talks over you. “We can clear a path to the gate.”

You have a multitude of questions and Steve seems to be thinking exactly what you are when he loudly exclaims, “Yeah, and then we all die!”

“That’s one point of view.”

“Dustin, that’s quite literally the only way to look at it.” You flick his hat and he swats your hand away.

Steve points at you, nodding in agreement. “That’s a fact.”

“Thanks, Steve–” Mike’s body slams into yours as he runs past you. “Christ, Wheeler!”

“I got it!” The boy shrieks, running out of the room as he wordlessly instructs everyone to follow. He kneels in front of the fridge and points wildly at one of the pictures Will has drawn. “This is where the chief dug his hole, this is our way into the tunnel.”

“Into? What do you mean into?”

Mike shoves past you again and runs into the living room. “Here, right here.” He stands in the middle, where all the pictures have interlocked together to form a center. “This is like a hub. So, you got all the tunnels feeding in here. Maybe if we set this on fire…”

“Fire?” You shriek as Steve quickly follows with, “Oh, yeah that’s a no!”

Dustin, however, is on board with what Mike is planning. “The mind flayer would call away his army.”

“They’d all come to stop us!” Lucas waves his arms madly at you, as if saying this will get you to agree to the plan that’s forming.

You throw your hands up in surrender. “Look, I recognize that we could maybe do something–”

“Hey!” Steve looks astonished that you’re even considering this. 

“I mean, if we can help then I don’t see why we can’t just–”

Mike shakes your arm now, deciding that your hesitation is an agreement. “We then can circle back to the exit! By the time they realize we’re gone–”

“El would be at the gate!” Max now also is looking at you. “C’mon, Y/N. You have to admit that it’s a solid plan.”

You bite your lip. It is. That’s the problem with the Wheelers. They come up with these insanely dangerous and insane plans, yet they’re also always brilliant. You know it’s risky, Hopper could barely even explain the tunnels to you without shaking in fear, but… Who’s to say that the Demodogs won’t simply go after Will and Jonathan at the cabin? Or kill Hopper and El before they even reach the lab.

It’s obvious you can’t just sit here and wait. 

El has to close the gate, that much is certain, and because of this: you have to help her. You have to help everyone, keep them safe. 

“It’s a solid plan,” you finally breathe out, and all the kids start to cheer.

“I knew you were my favorite sister!”

“Dustin, I’m your only sister–”

“Hey! Hey–” Steve pushes himself in between you and the kids, clapping his hands to break up any further conversations. “Hey! This is not happening.”

Mike tries to argue, “But–”

“No, no, no!” Steve places his hands on his hips like a disgruntled father. “No buts. I promised I’d keep you shitheads safe, and that’s exactly what I plan on doing.”

You don’t like the way Steve is speaking to the kids, commanding them as if he’s their parent. “Hey, no. We aren’t doing that.”

“Doing what?” He looks at you, eyes wide as he quickly gathers that he’s upset you. The fight in his voice is gone, replaced with quiet guilt.

“We don’t ever command the kids, not like that, anyways.” You step away from them and pull Steve aside with you to give the two of you some privacy. “Look, I know you promised Nance you’d take care of them, but I also promised Jonathan. We have to help, Steve.”

His face twists with confliction, and the two of you are caught between what Nancy wants and what Jonathan wants. They both want the kids to be safe, but they have different viewpoints of how they expect you and Steve to do so.

Nancy wants to keep her brother out of it, Jonathan wants to save his brother’s life. 

“Y/N…” Steve breathes out, begging you to change your mind. 

The confliction on his face hurts to look at, you hate that you’ve made him feel this way, but you can only shake your head at him. “I’m sorry, but we’re doing this.”

“Yes!” Mike rushes over to you and surprises you with a hug. “This is why I keep you around!”

“Okay, no.” You push the kid away and hold him by the shoulders to ensure he listens to you. “That doesn’t mean I think we should all go down into the tunnels. I’ll go, and Steve will stay here with you guys–”

“What? No! You’re not going down there by yourself, Y/N.” Steve doesn’t understand how you would expect him to ever let you do that. “We’re all on the bench, okay? We’re waiting for the starting team to do their job.”

“This isn’t a stupid sports game.” Mike groans in annoyance before focusing his attention back to you. “And no one in the party gets left behind. If you go, we all go.”

The sincerity in Mike’s voice warms you. He’s defending you, protecting you how you’ve always protected him, and you’ve never been more impressed with his bravery; it’s because of this, his bravery and admiration for you, that you know you have to go into the tunnels alone. 

It would kill you if Mike got hurt, if any of the kids got hurt. 

Steve sees the way your eyes shine at Mike’s words and his stomach twists. He knows he can’t change your mind about going alone, he knows you’d never, ever let anyone get hurt. That you’d lay down your life for these kids and those you love. 

The bloodied cloth wrapped around your rib cage reminds Steve that he’s a part of it all now. You have laid down your life for him.

And he’s never, ever going to let you get hurt because of him again. 

Steve steps forward and gently grabs your arm, he needs you to understand how much your selflessness terrifies him in this moment. “Y/N–”

The revving of an engine cuts him off. 

It’s a familiar sound. You’ve heard this car before. The sound of it has seared itself into your memories. The hair on your arms stands up, and within seconds Max is at the window, looking out in fear. 

“It’s my brother.” Max’s voice is terrified. Not even in the junkyard, when Demodogs had been raining down on you and the kids, had you heard such terror in the girl’s voice. “He can’t know I’m here.”

You’re at her side in a heartbeat, tugging her away from the window. You’ve seen the way Billy acts around Max, you remember the harshness he displayed in the parking lot. The same harshness that left bruises on your waist when he had you pinned against the wall on Halloween. “I won’t let him touch you.”

Your words have a bite to them. Max hears the oath within them, she has never believed anyone when they’ve told her this. “He’ll kill me. He’ll kill us.”

“He won’t.” You promise her, trying to control the pure rage you feel because of her brother. He can do whatever the fuck he wants with you, but he’s hurt Max for the last time. 

Steve watches your exchange with Max and feels his hands clench into fists. Anger fizzes through his body. As you console the girl, your eyes meet his and he nods. With one simple head movement, the two of you have silently agreed to do whatever it takes to ensure that Billy never hurts Max ever again. 

–

“Am I dreaming or is that you, Harrington?”

You’re standing behind Steve. 

Billy hasn’t seen you yet. 

“Yeah, it’s me. Don’t cream your pants.” Steve’s hand tightens around your arm as he guides you further behind him. He doesn’t like that you’re here with him. He hates the way Billy’s eyes roam over your body without any shame. 

But you insisted on coming outside, and Steve has never been able to tell you no. 

You step out from behind Steve and force your hands to rest by your side in nonchalance. “God, I was hoping you’d be allergic to milk.”

Billy raises his eyebrows when he sees you; you’ve surprised him. “Why, it’s always a pleasure seeing you, sweetheart.”

Steve’s clenched fists only tighten when he hears Billy’s nickname for you. He hates the implications behind it, the way he says it with such sickly sweetness that leaves Steve’s stomach feeling raw. 

He can’t imagine how you feel whenever you hear it, and it only makes Steve hate Billy more. 

“It’s never a pleasure for me.” You cross your arms as Billy now stands in front of you and Steve.

The teen laughs darkly and eyes Steve up and down. “What are you doing here, amigo?”

“I could ask you the same thing… Amigo.” His voice carries an air of indifference, but you know that tomorrow there will be indentations in Steve’s palms from his fingernails. 

“Looking for my stepsister.” Billy lights a cigarette and smirks at you. “A little birdie told me she was here.”

“Huh, that’s weird. I don’t know her.”

Billy smirks at Steve’s words and motions over to you. “Yeah, but this little lady does.”

“Max isn’t here.” You say, forcing your anger down to play along with Steve’s indifference. “Have you checked the quarry? A lot of kids like to hang out there.”

Smoke surrounds you as Billy responds, “Don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Henderson.”

With every dodged question, you’re only angering the teen more. If you and Steve keep this up, you’ll only make everything harder to manage. You try to think of something to distract Billy, but all you know about him is that he’s a sleazy pig with a cigarette addiction. 

Then, it hits you. 

His weird fascination with you. 

If you use it against him, maybe you can get him away from the Byers’ house long enough for Steve and the kids to leave. 

You step closer to Billy, ignoring every part of you that screams in rejection. You’re covered in blood and your hair is probably a mess, but you bat your eyelashes anyways and quirk your head up at Billy with an innocent smile. “I could show you, if you want.”

Just as you hoped, your sudden interest in him catches Billy’s attention. He presses his chest against yours and looks down at you, a pleased smile on his face. “And what would you be showing me, sweetheart?”

“The quarry, silly.” You giggle, trying not to gag at the reek of cigarette smoke. “It’s secluded… No one really goes down there. It’s, well–this is embarrassing.”

You duck your head down and act as if you’re blushing. Billy takes the bait and uses his fingers to lift your head up to look at him again. “Go on, tell me.”

You make a show of biting your lip. “Well, it’s where every teen in Hawkins goes to… Be alone.”

Billy’s eyes darken again, even more interested in what you have to say. He leans down, his lips inches from yours, and you know you have him right where you want him. 

Please, you think. I just want to protect the kids.

His breath fans across your face and he’s about to agree, to have you lead him away and forget all about his bitch of a sister, when Steve roughly pushes him away from you. 

“Max isn’t here, man.” He spits out, his once controlled anger now spilling over the edge. 

You want to scream at him, you almost had Billy. He was seconds away from agreeing, and the stupid idiot pushes him away from you? 

Billy looks between you and Steve and lets out a low chuckle. “Sorry, Harrington. Forgot that she’s yours.”

Steve moves as if to hit him but you quickly grab at his jacket, stopping him. Billy sees this and laughs again. 

“You know, I don’t know… This whole situation, Harrington.” He shrugs, exhales more smoke. “I don’t know. It’s giving me the heebie-jeebies.”

“Oh yeah, why’s that?” 

You’re silent, hand still clutching Steve’s jacket. 

Billy exhales more smoke. “My thirteen year old sister goes missing all day, and then I find her with you in a stranger’s house, alongside Y/N Henderson, the town’s darling, all bloodied and bruised. And you lie to me about it.”

From an outsider’s perspective, you hate how much Billy makes sense. 

To anyone else, this would look incredibly incriminating against Steve.

Yet, Steve still tries to deny it all. “Man, were you dropped too much as a child, or what?”

“I’m assuming he was.” You voice, looking nervously at Billy as he seems to grow more and more volatile. 

“I don’t know what you don’t understand about what Y/N and I have told you. Max isn’t here.”

Billy leans in close to Steve and points with his cigarette towards the house. “Then who is that?”

You and Steve turn, and your heart drops when you see Max and the boys all quickly duck their heads out of the window.

“Shit,” you breathe out, knowing it’s over.

You really hate those kids sometimes.

“Listen,” Steve tries to make up some excuse, but Billy roughly shoves him to the ground.

“I told you to plant your feet.” Bully sneers as he looms over him. You try to help Steve up, but you’re pushed aside as Billy then stomps on Steve’s ankle with a sickening crunch that makes your own wounded ankle sting.

As he storms towards the house, you quickly help Steve up, He pushes you away. “I’ll be fine, go help the kids!”

“But–”

You can’t just leave Steve while he’s hurt, but every time you try to help him up, he bats your hand away.

“Go!”

From inside the house, you hear the kids start to scream, and you reluctantly leave Steve behind and run inside. When you enter, Billy already has Lucas pinned against the wall as all the kids scream at him to let the boy go. Lucas is hitting at the teen’s chest desperately, but nothing is working. 

“Stay away from her.” Billy spits in the boy’s face, who is paralyzed with fear.

“Lucas!” You all but throw yourself onto Billy’s back as you begin hitting and pulling his hair. Anything you can think of, you try, but it’s no use. With Billy’s size and build, you’re nothing but a fucking bug to him. 

“I said get off of me!” Lucas kneels Billy in the groin, sending you and the teen flying back, but at least he’s let go of Lucas. 

You let go of Billy and place yourself between him and the boy, your breath comes out ragged. You don’t know what you’re supposed to be doing. All your mind can think of right now is protecting the kids, but in the midst of screaming and exhaustion and blood loss, you can’t think of anything. 

Billy tries to get to Lucas again, his teeth bared with fury. “You’re so dead, Sinclair. So dead!” 

In your exhaustion and fear, you call out for the only person you can think of. “Steve!”

He’s at your side in a heartbeat, quickly looking at you to make sure you’re okay, before he flings Billy away from you and Lucas. “No, you are!”

Steve’s punch lands perfectly, with a precision far from his pathetic punches thrown last year against Jonathan. It’s incredibly hot.

Billy begins to laugh in a manic manner that frightens you, but all of his attention is now on Steve, so you use this opportunity to drag Lucas over to the rest of the kids and make sure everyone is okay. 

You trust that Steve has everything else handled, but you make sure to keep an eye on him anyways while you take care of the kids. 

“Are you okay?” You check Lucas over for any injuries, who numbly nods as he’s still in shock, while Billy screams something about always wanting to meet King Steve. 

“Get out.” Despite Steve’s leveled voice, his tone is vicious. 

Billy swings again, but Steve manages to duck just in time before he lands yet another punch to the boy’s face. 

“Yes!” Dustin shouts with glee, but you remember the fight from last year. How Steve had lost miserably against Jonathan. A boy half of Billy’s size. 

While you’re impressed with Steve’s fighting improvement, you’re not sure how longer he’ll be able to keep this up. When more punches land on Billy and all he does is laugh menacingly, you know you don’t have a lot of time left.

You’re fucking terrified. 

The kids are still cheering Steve on when you turn to them, panicked. “You guys need to leave. Now.”

“What? But Steve’s winning!” Dustin says as Steve’s fist connects with Billy’s jaw. 

The sound makes you feel sick. 

You’re pleading now, terror clawing at your throat as you do so; your words slur together. “Leave, sneak out, and–and go through the front door and hide. Get help, okay? Just, go and find someone while Steve and I handle this–”

The sound of glass breaking against Steve’s head alerts you that your time is up. 

Billy hadn't been fighting back before. But now? He’s angrier than you’ve ever seen him. 

As Steve stumbles back in pain, you try pleading with the kids again. You don’t want them to see any more of this, of what might be about to happen. This isn’t just some fight between two teen boys. You know Billy better than that. 

He’s out for fucking blood. 

“Dustin, take everyone outside now!”

“We can’t just leave you!” Mike shouts and the others all nod. 

You want to cry. “We don’t have time for this, just–”

“Shit!” Dustin knocks against you as he dodges a punch meant for Steve. 

Steve crashes into the Byers’ bookshelf and you’re practically shoving the kids out of the door so that you can go and help, but they refuse to leave you and Steve behind. 

Billy has Steve by his jacket. “No one tells me what to do.”

With a sickening thud, he bashes his head into Steve’s and sends him flying to the ground. 

“Steve!” There’s blood pooling from his head and you’re gripped by fear so intense that you’re afraid you’ll pass out any second. 

Billy is relentless, now standing over Steve as he lands punch after punch. Every time his fists slam against Steve’s face, you feel them land against yours as well. Billy’s screaming like a fucking maniac and none of the kids are listening to you and Steve is getting bloodier by the second.

You’re torn. 

Dustin and the kids are staring at you, eyes wide with fear, and the front door is open; you could take the kids and run, but Steve is lying motionless on the ground.

It’s either him or the kids.

And yet it’s the easiest decision you’ve made all night.

“Get off of him!” You throw yourself onto Billy’s back for the second time tonight. 

You yank at his hair and try to scratch his face, but within seconds Billy throws you over his shoulder. “You demented bitch.”

Your head catches on the edge of a coffee table and you land with a thud on the ground. Almost immediately you feel blood drip from your eyebrow and you groan. Fuck. Definitely another concussion, but when you look over at Steve, he looks worse than you feel, and you force yourself to get up. 

Billy watches as you pathetically try to stand, and he laughs with cruelty. “What, want some more, sweetheart?”

More blood drips down your face and you feel the scratches on your rib cage re-open. Every bone in your body aches, but you pull out your switchblade and extend its knives. Your fingers skim over the engraving on its handle, reminding you to use the weapon with love. 

“This is your last chance.” You clutch at your side, hoping you look more intimidating than you feel. “Leave my family alone.”

Billy sees your knives and laughs at you. “Am I expected to believe that you’d actually hurt me?”

Your grip tightens around your switchblade. No one ever believes that you could be so cruel, so vicious. Billy is looking at you as if you’re some pathetic little girl, as if you haven’t killed Demodogs and Demogorgons. He’s looking at you as if you aren’t the sole reason everyone you know and love is alive.

You were once told to use the switchblade with love, that there was never any room for love when it came to violence. 

Now, as the kids are screaming at you to run and the pool of blood around Steve continues to grow, the onslaught of love that is always within you overtakes the fear. 

“I warned you.” With one quick movement, you swat at Billy and cut deeply into his shoulder.

He lets out an enraged scream and instinctively his fist goes flying. Pain erupts in your left eye and you know that you’ll have the worst time ever trying to explain to your mom later how you got a black eye. 

“Fuck!” You groan, dodging every other punch that Billy throws your way as he starts to approach you. With one eye quickly swelling up and the other blinded by blood, you do your best to stumble away from Billy, but it’s no use. 

Your foot catches on the carpet and almost as quickly as you fall, Billy is right there to wrap his hands around your throat and squeeze. You inhale sharply and panic overtakes you as you claw at his hands, drawing blood from him as well, but his fingers only tighten. 

“Y/N!” Dustin’s vocal chords strain from how loud he screams your name.

Billy seems to get a kick out of hearing your brother plead for your life, and he squeezes even tighter as you flail. “Not so tough now, are you?”

You struggle to free yourself, to do anything, but you can’t. 

For the first time since Will went missing, you truly believe that you’re about to die.

Steve is practically dead on the ground below you, he’s bleeding so much from his head that you’re terrified he’ll never wake up, and the kids are defenseless as they scream with tears in their eyes. 

Your baby brother is about to watch you die. 

Spots begin to form in your vision and it’s getting harder and harder to move your limbs. To make them do as you command. 

You know it’s your brain shutting down from the lack of oxygen. 

I hope Jonathan doesn’t blame himself.

Your world fades to black. 

Billy screams.

And you feel your body drop to the ground.

– 

The first time you wake up, it’s to Dustin huffing as he tugs at your arm. “God, you’re heavier than you look.”

You promptly pass back out. 

The second time, it’s dark outside and you register that you’re cold, but your eyes sting and you’re out again.

You wake up a few more times, always in a daze, and never more for a few seconds at a time, before the feeling that you’re moving wakes you up for good. 

It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the dark, your left eye barely even opens, and the pounding in your head is blinding in itself. Blinking a few times, you look down and finally notice that Steve is sprawled on your lap. You’re in the backseat of someone’s car. 

Your head is resting against someone’s shoulder. When you try to lift it to see who it is, you feel someone gently guide your head back down. “Shh, it’s okay. Don’t move too fast, alright? Don’t want you yacking on us.”

“Dustin?” You immediately regret trying to speak. Your voice comes out hoarse and raw and the pain is so intense that it only makes your head pound more.

“Right here, sis. Try not to speak, you sound like a frog.”

You try to sit up again, forgetting that Steve is sprawled on top of you, and your movements cause him to wake up. When his eyes manage to blink open, he tilts his head at you and mumbles, “Nancy?”

“Wha–” Again your voice cracks and you feel so delirious. Are you Nancy?

Steve attempts to wipe away the blood on his face but Dustin stops him with a gentle chiding. “No, don’t touch it.”

Steve brings a shaky hand up to your face and carefully rests it against your cheek. “You’re… You’re bleeding.”

Dustin puts the hand down. “Hey, buddy. Y/N is bleeding, good job. You’re bleeding, too. It’s okay though, you put up a good fight. I mean, he kicked your ass but you put up a good fight.”

Your brother’s words ring in your ears. He’s saying so much and you’re trying to swallow down the vomit that threatens to spill out. 

“Okay, you’re gonna keep straight for half a mile, then make a left on Mount Sinai.” A voice rings out, one different from Dustin’s. 

Was that Lucas?

“What’s going on?” Steve slurs, trying to process everything happening. He blearily looks back up at you. “Who’s driving?”

“Not me,” you manage to croak out.

A beat of silence passes. 

Then, at the same time, you and Steve realize: Max is the one driving. 

You’re more awake now and you try to say more, but your throat has swollen shut from speaking and it feels like it’s on fire. 

Thankfully, Steve is here to say everything you can’t. “Oh my god!”

“Just relax, she’s driven before.” Dustin reassures, slapping your hand away when you try to reach over to the driver’s side. 

“Yeah, in a parking lot.” Mike says, and you notice he’s also here now. 

“That counts.”

You want to scream at Max to pull over and demand the keys from her, but your bruised throat prevents you while your bleeding rib cage traps you in. While you can’t say anything, all Steve can say is, “Oh my god.”

“They were gonna leave you guys behind–”

“Oh my god.”

“But I promised that you’d be cool, okay?” Again Dustin slaps your hand away and all but shoves his leg over you so that you remain seated. 

Max then presses down on the gas pedal and the car increases its speed, which only makes the entire situation worse. 

Steve, rightfully, freaks out. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! What’s going on? Stop the car, slow down!”

You twist in your seat and blindly grab at Steve’s hand, both thanking him for voicing all that you can’t and also to try and prevent the poor boy from passing out again. 

“I told you he’d freak out! At least Y/N shut up!” Mike shouts over at Dustin. 

While you’re flattered that you’re officially cooler than Steve in Mike’s eyes, if you had a functioning throat right now, you’d be letting out some very choice words. 

“Stop the car!” Steve screams again, but the little rainbow bandaids on his cheek take away from his commanding nature. 

You hope that Dustin at least chose some pretty bandaids for your face. 

“Everybody shut up! I’m trying to focus!” Again, Max doesn’t at all help the situation at hand. 

“Wait, that’s Mount Sinai. Make a left!” Lucas points to where Max needs to go and you wonder why they trusted the girl, who just moved to Hawkins a week ago, to know where to go. 

“What?”

“Make a left!” Lucas screams, and Max quickly yanks the car to the left.

You, Steve, and the kids all scream as she hits what you hope is a mailbox. As the car jerks, you topple onto Steve and let out a painful, weird mix of a croak and shriek as the car continues to turn. Dustin tries to steady himself against you as he screams and Steve fully grabs your waist and uses you to shield himself from danger.

What a hero. 

Then, you almost go flying out of the windshield as Max suddenly stops the car. 

“Hello!” Steve exclaims, gripping you tightly still. 

Dustin giggles. “Whoa!”

“Incredible,” Mike breathes out. 

Meanwhile, you think your heart fell out of your ass about five blocks ago. 

“I told you. Zoomer.” Max smirks with pride. 

“She terrifies me,” you whisper, and Steve nods in agreement. 

The kids begin getting out of the car and seem to have some unspoken plan being set into motion. Dustin pats your shoulder before leaving you behind with Steve as the others go towards the trunk. 

Not knowing what the fuck is happening, you kick Steve so that he falls off of you and onto the grass so that you can follow after your brother. When you get out the car, you march over towards where all the kids are standing and silently demand an explanation. 

Mike notices you first. “What? Cat got your tongue?”

You refrain from shoving his face in the mud and point towards the goggles he’s holding. He sighs and hands it to you while Dustin ties a bandana around your neck and Max grabs a gallon of gasoline. 

Seems like they’re sticking to the plan from earlier, then.

When Steve realizes this, as he is gripping onto the car for dear life, he whines. “Oh, no. Guys.”

Everyone ignores him and he continues to try to stop what’s happening. You hobble over to him, a new wave of nausea and pain washing over you, and lean against him helplessly. There’s no use trying to explain to him that the party won’t listen. For now, you simply relish in his presence and enjoy how he feels against you. 

“We are not going down there right now!” Steve, though gentle to not jostle you around too much, waves his hands in the air as he screams at Max. “I made myself clear. There is no chance we’re going to that hole, alright?”

Similar to last year, Steve begins to spiral in his fear. He wraps his arms around you and places you against the car before he runs over to Dustin and throws that backpack that’s in the kid’s hands. “This is not happening!”

You slowly walk over and grab the thrown backpack, hoping that Dustin can reason with the teen. 

“Steve, you’re upset. I get it, but the bottom line is that a party member requires assistance and it is our duty to provide that assistance.” When you join Dustin’s side, he helps you put the goggles on and brings your bandana up over your mouth. “Now, I know you promised Nance that you would keep us safe. So keep us safe.”

He hands Steve the backpack you retrieved. 

Steve looks between you and your brother. You both look absolutely ridiculous in your get up, and he knows he has no other choice but to agree. His eyes meet yours and he silently asks if you’re sure about this, he will always look to you for the answers. 

You nod, hoping that the small head shift is conveying what you physically cannot say.

I’m here, the kids need us, and I need you with me.

Steve hears it, sighs, and grabs the backpack from your hands. 

“Well, let’s get going.” He motions for you and Dustin to lead the way. 

– 

“I got you,” Steve’s voice is soft as his hands graze your waist. He’s standing below you, already having jumped into the tunnels so that he can help you climb down the rope safely. You’re not sure if it’s his touch, or the way his voice drips with promises to protect you, or the simple fact that you’re bleeding and bruised that makes your body weak. 

“Drop me and die.” Your knuckles are white as they clutch the rope, your body shaking with exhaustion as you try to ease your way down without further injuring your ribs. 

Steve laughs and tightens his grip on your waist, steadying you as you finally inch the rest of the way down and land with a gentle thud onto the ground. “Like I’d ever dream of letting you go.”

This time, you know it’s his words that cause you to shiver, not the exhaustion and pain. 

“Ahem.”

Turning around, you see Dustin glaring at you and Steve while Lucas is stifling laughs. You roll your eyes at them and step away so that you aren’t standing so close to Steve, and he seems to think the same and distances himself as well. 

“Holy shit,” Steve breathes out, now finally examining the tunnels. 

It takes your breath away as well. The tunnels are terrifying, but oddly kind of cool. There’s a dim light within them, almost ghostly, and yet it’s beautiful in a way that you can’t quite describe. Small particles float through the air, and you reach your hand out to feel them against your skin. It tickles, akin to snowflakes, and the reminder makes you yearn for winter again. 

Mike’s flashlight distracts you as he shines it towards a random section of the tunnel. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure it’s this way.”

“You’re pretty sure, or you’re certain?” Dustin asks, doubtful. 

“I’m 100% sure, just follow me and you’ll know.”

As soon as Mike’s declaration of leading leaves his lips, you and Steve share and look and immediately stumble towards the boy. 

Like hell you’re letting him lead. He’s a child, and he’s also incredibly horrible at navigating. Last time you let him guide the way, you ended up finding El in the middle of the woods. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Steve flashes his light at Mike. “I don’t think so.”

“What?”

“Any of you little shits die down here, I’m getting the blame. Got it, dipshit?” Steve takes the map from Mike’s hands and then looks over at you. “I guide, you take the rear?”

You nod. “Good luck.”

Steve smiles, his sarcastic bravado now gone, before he suddenly clears his throat once more and shouts. “From here on out, I’m leading the way while Y/N makes sure none of you idiots get lost. Come on.”

The kids groan and roll their eyes at him, but they fall into line and do as they’re told. 

Dustin walks in front of you and offers you his hand. He knows the uneven terrain will only increase the chances of your ankle acting up. “How’s the ankle?”

“Hurts,” you rasp, accepting his hand as you hobble along. He hums and helps you navigate, the goggles covering his nose makes him sound nasally. “Did I put up a good fight at least?”

Your throat strains to get all the words out, but Dustin seems to understand what you’ve said and laughs. “Yeah, you did a much better job than Steve–What the hell?”

Dustin stops walking and suddenly looks up. Unsure what he’s seen, you look up as well and gasp. Above you rests a giant flower-bud looking thing, except it’s pulsing in a very concerning and gross way and is the size of a car. When it starts to expand even larger, you realize before your brother does what it’s about to do; you tug at his hand and try to run away, but Dustin doesn’t move.

Then, in one grand blow, the bud explodes and releases what you can only imagine are pollen spores, and they spray all over Dustin. “Shit!” He falls to the ground, screaming and rolling around as if he’s just been shot, and all you can do is stand there and silently wait for him to calm down enough for you to talk to him. “Help! Y/N, help!”

You motion to your throat, but Dustin gags and scrambles to stand up before promptly falling back down again in his haste. 

Steve and the others have now joined and everyone is crowding over your brother with worry. “Dustin? What happened?”

“Pollen.” You croak, and Steve looks even more confused now. 

“It’s in my mouth!” Dustin spits onto the ground and coughs, wheezing every few breaths. “Some of it got on my mouth. Shit!”

Mike points his flashlight at you. “Any more useful insight from Kermit the frog?”

You glare at him, although the nickname is funny and you hate that it’s clever. You clear your throat, cringe at the sting it sends down your body, and respond, “Rose-bud thing. Exploded. He’s fine.”

Everyone tilts their head at you, not at all understanding what you’re trying to say, and you groan. It’s incredibly frustrating that Billy left you unable to say a goddamn thing without immeasurable pain. You honestly would’ve preferred that he stab you or something, because your intelligence and wit are so crucial to who you are as a person. 

Plus the whole Kermit the frog thing kind of sucks, regardless of how funny it will be later. 

“I’m fine.” Dustin gasps out. “As Y/N said, a rose-bud thing sprayed me.”

“You guys serious?” Max shakes her head, at a loss for why she’s even here. 

“Very funny, man.” Steve looks at you and teases, “And Y/N, I expected more from you.”

You give him the finger. “Dustin, not me.”

“Mhm,” he’s starting to walk away again, resuming his leader position through the tunnels, but he sends you a wink. “C’mon, Hendersons.”

The rest of the kids follow after him while you help Dustin up and wipe him off. He’s a mess, and he’s clearly still frightened, but he seems reassured by your presence and begins to calm down. When he’s ready, you and Dustin follow.

The tunnels are long, windy, and incredibly disturbing to be in. You can’t believe that something this intricate and vast has been laying underneath Hawkins for god knows how long. The ground beneath your feet is squishy and it takes both Dustin’s hand and immense concentration to not trip. 

Steve leads, his flashlight serving as a beacon to focus on despite the pounding in your head. The bandana tied over your nose only makes the ringing in your ears worse, but you’ll leave inhaling mysterious Upside Down particles to your brother. 

After a few minutes of walking, you’re starting to fear that the poorly drawn map from Mike really is just a poorly drawn map. Then, Steve stops. “Alright, Wheeler. I think we found your hub.”

You flick your flashlight around and your eyes widen. It’s huge. In the center lies a mound of what you hope is just mud, but you see a bone or two stick out from it and look away. To your left, there’s easily five or six more tunnels, each varying in width and height, and to your right is the same. 

Seeing how vast the tunnel system is, you’re thankful for Mike’s genius little brain. 

“Let’s drench it!” Except the vigor in his voice frightens you and you consider that he may be the world’s next mad scientist. 

However, a plan is a plan and you’ve already made it this far, so you set to work on spraying the area with gasoline. Between you, Steve, and the kids, within minutes you’ve created the world’s most flammable labyrinth. 

When you’re done, Steve guides the kids back towards the exit and you make sure everyone’s behind the two of you. He kneels, flicks out his lighter, and turns to everyone. “Alright, you guys ready?”

“Ready,” Max and Lucas say.

Dustin tightens his hand around yours, preparing to help you run as fast as you can with your ankle. “Light her up.”

Steve flicks his lighter open. “I am in such deep shit.”

“Together.” You nudge him with your shoe, and even though his face is hidden, you know he smiles. 

He takes a deep breath, winds his arm back, and flings the lighter into the center of the hub. 

Immediately everything bursts into flames. In the blaze, the strange roots that had been lying dormant on the ground now come to life as they flail against the heat. They twist and whip around, writhing in pain. The tunnels themselves almost seem to come to life as it writhes in pain. 

“Go, go, go!” Steve yells, pushing everyone back to start running. 

You stay behind with him, making sure all the kids have started to run before you finally let Dustin tug you along as well. The boy is screaming, hopping and dodging roots as best as he can while squealing, “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!”

Steve takes the lead now, having somehow memorized the way out. “Let’s go!”

You’re disoriented. Dustin’s hand is gripping yours so harshly and it’s taking everything within you to keep up, but your ankle throbs and your left eye has only continued to swell from the punch earlier. It’s becoming increasingly difficult to follow along, and in your disorientation you lose track of Mike. 

When he falls, everything within you snaps back into focus. You tear your hand from Dustin’s and you’re at Mike’s side in a heartbeat, but already the roots have started to wrap around his leg; he screams. “Help! Y/N, help me!”

Your hands shake as you reach for your switchblade, adrenaline runs through you so violently that you feel lightheaded. Mike’s screams are the only thing keeping you grounded right now. As he panics, you roughly grab his shirt and force him back before you start to hack at the root with your knives. 

“Pull him back!” Steve instructs the kids, who have now joined. “Y/N, watch out!”

You have just enough time to cut through one root before dodging Steve’s bat as he hits at the other. It takes a few swings, but with one final blow, you and the kids are able to pull Mike free and help him stand back up. 

“You good?” Lucas pants, patting MIke’s shoulders for any injuries while Dustin asks, “You okay?”

You pull Mike into you and quickly hug him, damning whatever time constraint you currently have against you. Your hands are still shaking, which Mike feels, and he gives you a quick pat before pulling away. “Glad you care, but–”

“We gotta go!” Steve steps between you two, bat still in hand, when a growl erupts from behind him. 

Dustin shoves everyone behind him before you can stop him. He’s recognized the growl before you have. “Dart.”

The Demodog growls again. He’s bigger than ever before, now practically fully grown. His growth distracts you long enough to miss Dustin slowly starting to approach him. When you do, you immediately try to stop him. 

“Dustin–” Fear overtakes you.

“Steve, hold her back.” He orders. “Just trust me, okay?”

Steve’s arms wrap around you and you try to fight back. “No–”

“Y/N,” he whispers into your ear, keeping an eye on your brother as well. “If you freak out now, Dustin will get hurt.”

He’s right, you know he’s right, but your brother is only a foot away from Dart now and he’s now smaller than the creature. One wrong move, and he’s dead.

Dustin kneels in front of Dart and you feel your heart drop. You don’t dare breathe as he takes off his goggles and mask and leans in closer to the creature. “Hey, it’s me. It’s just your friend, it’s Dustin.”

Dart slowly inches forward as Dustin continues to talk. “You remember me? Will you let us pass?”

This time, Dart’s entire mouth opens as he snarls at Dustin.

Again you struggle in Steve’s arms, but he only tightens his hold on you as you watch your baby brother, terrified, face off against the Demodog. 

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” Dustin lowers his voice, unwavering against Dart’s malice. “I’m sorry about the storm cellar. That was a pretty douchy thing to do. I blame Y/N, she’s always the one who makes me do the right thing.”

The little shit has you scared out of your fucking mind, and yet he has the nerve to somehow make this your fault.

If he gets out of this alive, you’re never, ever letting him go again. 

Dustin reaches into his backpack, eyes never leaving Dart. “You hungry?

“He’s insane,” Lucas whispers in awe. Both you and Steve tell him to shut up, scared that any noise will cause Dart to attack.

“I’ve got our favorite.” Dustin waves the candy in front of Dart’s face. “See? Nougat.”

As soon as the Demodog sees the candy bar, his demeanor shifts and he happily approaches Dustin. Within seconds, your brother has managed to re-tame his weird Upside Down pet, and for a brief second you feel bad that Dustin can’t keep him. 

“Look at that. Yummy!” He places the candy on the ground as a peace offering and he starts to motion behind him, waving for you and everyone else to start moving. “Eat up, buddy.”

Steve guides Lucas, Max, and Mike past Dart and through the tunnel that was previously blocked by him, but you stay behind. Your knives are drawn; you’re not leaving your brother’s side. 

“There’s plenty,” Dustin coos to the creature, placing down one last candy bar before standing up. When he sees that you’re still there, he grabs your hand and starts to walk away with you. Feeling his hand, warm and alive against yours, is enough to calm you down enough to follow. Before the two of you leave, however, Dustin turns around one last time to look at Dart, a sad smile on his face. “Goodbye, buddy.”

Dart doesn’t show any reaction, too busy devouring the candy he’s been given, and you gently tug Dustin along to safety, albeit with some guilt. He really loved that little lizard thing. 

As soon as the two of you are out of danger, you pull Dustin into a bone crushing hug. “You’re stupid.”

“Stupid brave,” he mumbles against you, though his arms are tight against your waist. He had been scared, too. 

You snort and pull your bandana down so you can kiss the top of Dustin’s head. “Just stupid.” 

“Guys, we gotta go.” Steve whispers, feeling bad for interrupting your moment with the kid. He can still feel the way your body shook in his arms, how he could hear your terrified heartbeat as he held you back. He felt horrible for doing it, but he promised Nancy he’d keep the kids safe, and Steve knows that she also wanted him to protect you, too.

At Steve’s urgent whisper, you reluctantly nod and pull away from Dustin. With one last shoulder squeeze, you pat his back and tug at his hand to start running. As you run, the ground trembles beneath your feet. You’re the first one to fall, Max and Lucas not far behind. “Fuck!” 

Steve has your hand within his in seconds and he gently pulls you up. His face is obscured from the goggles and banana, yet you can see the concern when he looks at you. When he stands you back up, he pulls you close and whispers, “You okay?”

You nod, about to tell him to keep running, when you hear the first screech of the Demodogs. 

“What was that?” Max inches towards your side, now long familiar with what the screeches mean. 

As if almost in response to the girl, more screeches follow as they echo through the tunnels. Only this time, there’s more of them; more than you’d even want to imagine. The hair on your arms stands up as the screeching continues. You know that if you don’t run now, none of you will stand a chance. 

“They’re coming.” Mike realizes. “Run! Run, let’s go!”

You snatch Dustin’s hand and practically throw the kid forward with how harshly you begin running. Lucas and Max run past, while Mike follows after Steve. Your footsteps fall harshly against the tunnel’s earthy ground and it takes everything within you to keep going. When you round the corner and see the rope, you almost sob with relief. 

“Kids first!” You shout, damning whatever further damage it’ll do to your vocal chords.

Steve understands immediately and kneels beneath the rope to give the kids a boost up while you hold the rope taught and help lift them. Max is the first up, both you and Steve more so throwing her rather than helping her.

“C’mon!” Steve encourages her, and with one final shove from you, she makes it over the edge and is safe. 

Everything happens so fast, it’s a blur as you help Lucas start to climb out, then Mike, and as you’re hauling Dustin up next, you hear the Demodogs drawing near. 

“Oh, shit!” Steve hears them as soon as you do and he grabs for his bat and starts to place himself in front of you and Dustin, but you stop him. 

“No!” You yank him back and then grab your brother, shoving him underneath the rope. The shadows of the Demodogs cast against the wall, you know you only have seconds before they’re here. “Throw him up!”

Dustin realizes what you’re about to do. “Y/N, no–”

But Steve already has a grip on him. “You’re going home.”

“No!” Dustin screams and tries to stay behind, wriggling and thrashing, but with Steve’s help, you’re able to lift him to safety before the first Demodog appears. Dustin, now safely above ground, sees this too. His heart stops. “Y/N!”

“Steve! Y/N! Climb up!” The kids begin to shout now, urging you and the teen to get out of the tunnels, fear alive in their voices. 

You look up at them, see their faces alive with youth, and then turn to Steve. He seems to be thinking the same thing as you. You’ve both run out of time. He nods, you do as well, and together you’ve accepted your fate. Steve draws his bat as you raise your knives. 

“Y/N!” Dustin’s voice rings through clearer than the other’s, the despair evident. You close your eyes for a second, wishing that there was more you could’ve done, but at least he’s safe.

Jonathan will take care of him, Nancy will, too. 

He won’t be alone, and you have Steve with you, who is holding your hand as if it contains all the secrets of the world.

It’ll be okay. 

You open your eyes. 

The Demodogs, miraculously, start to run right past you and Steve. They weave between you two, not at all paying any attention. You stand as still as possible, not wanting to wake them from whatever trance they seem to be in. 

However, one particularly large Demodog crashes against your leg and sends you into Steve’s side, who wraps his arms around you with a fierce protectiveness. You duck your head down, unaware just how desperately you’d been craving his presence, and he buries you further against him as the monsters continue to run. 

The two of you cower, curling into one another, steadying the other, waiting for something to happen. Steve has his feet firmly planted and stands his ground as more monsters run past, and without him you would’ve fallen minutes ago, trampled by the creatures. 

When you can’t hear any more Demodogs, you slowly lift your head from Steve’s chest and look around. 

They’re gone. Each and every one of them has left. 

You’re still in Steve’s arms, your chests are pressed tightly together and you’ve never been this close to him before. When you look up at him, you can feel his breath against your skin. There’s an odd look in his eyes, he’s studying your face as if seeing it for the first time, and his gaze makes something deep within you stir. 

“Thank you,” you whisper, needing to say something. He’s once again saved your life, and your eyes can’t seem to leave his. 

His fingers dig into your side, it’s the only way he can respond. The sensation causes you to shiver and your eyes slowly drift down to his lips. They’re a lovely shade of pink, flush and full. You wonder what they’d taste like, if he’s wondered the same about you. 

Steve stares down at you and feels every breath you take, the rise and fall of your chest matching his. The two of you stand like this for a moment, hearts beating together as you cling to one another, until Dustin clears his throat. 

“Ahem,” he draws your attention. “There are kids here, ya know.”

Lucas, Max, and Mike all snicker when you frantically pull away from Steve in embarrassment. Both of your faces are red, the air between you still hangs with something you’re not quite sure how to name. 

“We’re coming.” Steve mumbles to your brother before turning to you. “Ready?”

You take a deep breath and nod, your nerves still shaky from being so close to him prior. When you’re ready, you grab onto the rope and feel Steve’s always gentle hands grip your waist. You’re slow climbing up, being the most injured out of everyone, but he’s patient with you and murmurs encouragement as you climb. 

Once you’re safely up, you help the kids with Steve. The moment his feet touch solid land, he lets out a low whistle and claps his hands. “Well, I’d say that went well–”

Suddenly, Billy’s headlights begin to shine obnoxiously bright. The light increases in its intensity, glowing brighter and brighter, so much so that you and everyone else have to shield your eyes. Then, just as suddenly as it began, the lights shut off. 

It’s quiet. No one says anything, unsure of what’s just happened, but you know.

“El,” you whisper, somehow knowing it’s her. Mike nods, understanding as well. 

She did it. 

She closed the gate. 

You pull the kids into you, dragging them all in your arms in a giant hug. All you feel right now is disbelief. The plan worked. You’re all somehow still alive. 

Steve stands behind you, his chest firm against your back, and you allow yourself to gently lean against him. To accept all that he’s silently providing you; there’s no point in fighting it any more. He’s here, offering you anything you need from him, and you’re exhausted from pretending that you don’t see it. 

After a few moments of silence, you finally release the kids and nudge them towards the car. 

It’s time to go home. 

– 

“So what exactly did you guys do with Billy?” Steve’s driving and you’re in the passenger seat, waves of exhaustion crashing upon you. From the rearview mirror, Steve sees Lucas, Dustin, and Mike all turn to Max slowly. He frowns. “Why are you all looking at her?”

Max shifts uncomfortably in her seat. “I handled it.”

“She sedated him and we left him on the floor at Will’s.” Dustin fills in the information that Max opted to omit, which she elbows him for. 

Steve blinks, turns to you, and asks, “You heard that too, right?”

“Mhm.”

“Cool.”

When you get to Jonathan’s, Billy is sitting hunched over on the porch, waiting. He looks rough, his eyes bleary and his hair matted. When you see him, you feel your throat constrict in pain and a sense of panic builds within you. You look towards Steve, see his bruised cheek, then notice the way Max squirms in the backseat being near Billy, and the panic is replaced with anger. 

He’s caused enough pain and turmoil to those you love. 

Steve parks the car and turns in his seat so that he’s facing everyone. “Alright, we all see that Billy is awake, so you guys stay here while I go and–”

“We.” You correct, swallowing down the pain you feel. 

Steve inhales and looks as if he wants to argue, but he just shakes his head and continues. “Okay, we go and talk to the guy.”

“I want to come.” Max says, though she still refuses to look in Billy’s direction. 

You rest a hand on her leg. You understand what she’s asking for, to handle her brother herself, take her life into her own hands. Max is a brave kid, she’s shown you that much tonight, and while you trust her to make the right decision, you’re still hesitant. “Are you sure?”

She thinks for a second before nodding. Her eyes harden and she juts her jaw out. She’s made up her mind, and you get a kick out of seeing the fire within her. Max Mayfield is an incredible young girl, and you’re honored to know that she trusts you. “I’m sure.”

“Then let’s go.”

You, Steve, and Max walk side by side towards Billy, though you make sure to place the girl slightly behind you in case her brother tries anything. 

When Billy notices you approach, he lifts his head up and waves lazily at the three of you. “Back already?” His words slur together and his eyes are glossy; the sedative must still be wearing off. 

Max steps forward. “Take me home.” 

Billy eyes her, looks between you and Steve, and then sighs. “Fine. Any other demands?”

The girl shakes her head. “I’ll wait in the car.”

And then she’s gone, leaving you and Steve alone with Billy. 

He eyes you, sees the bruises on your neck, and a languid smile drawls across his face. “Seems I left a mark, sweetheart.”

Steve steps forward, but you put your hand out and stop him. You appreciate him, you do, but this is something you have to do yourself. You swallow again, feeling the tender flesh within your throat constrict, and try to make your words come out as neutral as possible. “Seems I did, too.”

Billy looks down at his shoulder, the wound from your knife is still bleeding. “So you did.”

Lucas and the other boys stand off to the side now, having left the car alone for Max. When Billy notices them staring, he sighs and wipes his hands off on his jeans and slowly gets up. “Well, my bitch of a sister awaits.”

As Billy leaves, Mike runs up the steps and unlocks the front door. “Y/N, think you could make those cookies again? I’m starving.”

You glare at him and Steve laughs. “I’m not sure she can even walk up the steps, dude.”

“Yeah, look at her.” Dustin waves his hands in front of you. “She looks like a zombie.”

Lucas makes zombie sounds and pretends to eat Dustin’s brains before Mike joins in. The three of them chase each other into the house, screaming “brains” and “die” as they mess around, leaving you and Steve alone outside. 

He steps in front of you, his back towards you and he crouches down. “Care for a ride?”

You want to argue, but it’s becoming harder and harder to keep your eyes open. It’d be a miracle if you even manage up the first step on the porch. Hesitantly, you place your hands on Steve’s shoulders and jump onto his back.

“Atta girl,” he laughs, standing back up so that he can carry you inside and join the boys. You wrap your arms around his neck and nuzzle your face as you close your eyes. You’re seconds away from falling asleep. Steve seems to sense this and slows down his footsteps so as to not disturb you. 

He navigates the home, remembering where to go from his time here last year. You’re warm against him and Steve’s fingers draw lazy circles onto your ankles. The boys are in the kitchen, scurrying around for any food, and Steve relishes in this small moment with you.

You’re placed down into a soft bed and the smell of Jonathan overwhelms you; you open your eyes and realize that Steve has taken you to the boy’s room. The bed is warm beneath you, the scent soothes your wounds. 

“Jonathan’s?” You ask, confused as to why Steve would take you here.

“Figured it’s where you sleep when you’re here.” He shrugs, as if it’s no big deal, before grabbing the blankets and tucking you in. His movements are careful and he makes sure your head is resting on a pillow and that he takes off your shoes. 

The gentleness of his touch soothes you. You’ve never let anyone take care of you like this before. You let him play with your hair, wrap the blanket around you so that you won’t get cold, and when he finally seems pleased with his work, he flicks your nose and smiles. “Get some sleep, dork.”

“Everyone is safe?”

His eyes melt. “They are. They’ll be home soon. In the meantime, I’ll rustle up some grub for those heathens outside while you sleep. Doctor’s orders.”

You giggle and grab his hand to bring to your lips. They linger against his knuckles, you inhale and breathe in his scent, and Steve’s breath hitches at the touch. “Thank you,” you whisper against his skin before placing another kiss. 

There’s such a lovely buzz within your chest, holding Steve’s hand fills you with this syrupy warmth like honey, and you’ve never felt it before. It drips down your skin and into your bones, healing wounds both old and new with its kisses. 

Steve squeezes your hand with his. He feels it, too. You both do. 

–

A body slides in next to yours, rousing you from your sleep. A hand wraps around your waist and the fingers, long and lithe and familiar, skim your skin lazily. The sensation almost lulls you back to sleep, you know whose touch this is, whose body lays next to yours. 

You open your arms and engulf Jonathan into a hug. His body lays atop of yours, reminiscent of the night a few days ago when he snuck into your room before he left with Nancy. Your body has long since come to anticipate his weight against yours, it’s become accustomed to how he lands upon you. 

“What time is it?” You rasp, stroking Jonathan’s hair with your fingers as he breathes steadily against you. You’re not sure how long you’ve been asleep, but the pain in your throat has lessened, your voice is slowly returning to normal.

“Early morning,” he mumbles, pressing a kiss against your shoulder. “Steve took Dustin home, no one wanted to wake you. Apparently you had a rough night.”

You laugh, then wince at the pain it draws from your throat and ribs. “You could say that.”

Jonathan places another kiss upon your skin, this time against the base of your throat. He litters kisses up and down your neck, his breath tickling as he does so. “I’m sorry,” he says in between each kiss, as if his words will make the bruises fade faster. 

Rather than respond, knowing nothing you can say will make him believe that none of this is Jonathan’s fault, you simply hum at his kisses and lean into them. “Will?”

“He’s okay, he’s safe. Mom is with him now.”

You hum again, relishing in the knowledge that Will is okay and that Jonathan is once again here with you. The house is quiet, everyone else asleep, and the two of you lay like this for a while. No more words are said, Jonathan presses kisses against your skin as your fingers interlock through his hair and you run your hand up and down his back. 

Somehow, you know this will be the last time you ever have him like this. 

Just the two of you, uncrossed in any boundaries. Skin against skin, kisses to wounds and fingers intertwined. You hope that your body never forgets the weight of his. You hope that it will always anticipate his impact, welcoming it after a long day. Jonathan’s touch will soon become ghosts lingering on your skin, and selfishly you never want this moment to end. 

Uncrossed boundaries, threads and strings and lines. 

They’re here. You can see them now, they almost glow faintly within Jonathan’s room, the same room in which you grew up in. 

“Bee?” You whisper, nudging him gently to get his attention. He lifts his head from your neck and looks at you, eyes open and listening. “We have to talk about it.”

The early morning light streams through the curtain and illuminates Jonathan’s face. His eyes are a mixture of browns and reds and ambers and you try to remember what they look like now, before the words are said and nothing will ever be the same again. 

“I’m scared,” he admits. You’ve made him into who he is today, with all of his quirks and humor and love. Jonathan doesn’t know who he would be without you, and he’s terrified that he’ll say the wrong thing and lose you forever.

“I know,” you stroke his cheek. “I am, too.”

“I don’t want to–I can’t lose you.”

“You’ll never lose me, Jonathan Byers.” You’re firm in your words, now grasping at his face with your hands. “We’re connected, remember? String theory, you and me.”

Jonathan has tears in his eyes. “But I slept with Nancy.”

His confession only makes you sigh. “I know, bee.”

“I–I think… I think this time it’ll turn into something more. I… I think I love her, bug.” His voice cracks, terrified of his own words. He recognizes now, far too late, all that he’s missed. “But bug… I know there’s–that there’s some things we should’ve talked about. A long time ago… but I just…”

“I know,” you know everything he’s trying to tell you. There’s no hurt in your voice, only resignation, but you knew this would happen eventually. “We missed our chance a while ago.”

“Did we ever really have a chance?” He asks, thinking back to the day the two of you met. How easily you accepted him into your life, the role you unknowingly assigned to him as your best friend. How, for years, he’d been so in love with you but terrified it’d scare you away. 

You play with his fingers, thinking for a moment. “I’d like to think that we did. I think we just… We missed each other, along the way.”

He smiles, bittersweet and somber. “We would’ve been something great, huh?”

“You’re my person,” you tell him, a certain sadness creeping into your voice. It’s the truth. No one will ever know you like he does, no one can unravel you the way he can. The love you have for Jonathan is unyielding, it transcends everything else you’ve ever felt. “Of course we would’ve been something great.”

“And now?”

You bite your lip, unsure. “Now we just… We let go.”

Jonathan tightens his arms and presses himself further against you. “I’m never letting you go, Y/N Henderson.”

You feel tears beginning to form in your eyes, both from grief and acceptance. “You don’t have to, but we have to let go of our claim to one another. You’re Nancy’s, now. It wouldn't be fair otherwise. To anyone.”

“And you’re Steve’s?” He asks, hesitant to bring the boy up. While you watched Jonathan fall in love with Nancy, he’s watched you fall for Steve. 

“I think I could really love him,” you admit, breathless. “I think I’ve already started to fall for him.”

Jonathan’s heart twists at the breathlessness in your voice, though he knows he’ll have to get used to this. To no longer being the reason for your bashfulness. It’ll take time, but he knows in the end that it’s for the better. “You deserve to go for it, bug.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” he playfully pokes your side. “Nancy fucked up with him, and I fucked up with you. The two of you deserve better than us, and I… I want you to be happy, you know that.”

“I know, but…” you turn to him now, needing him to understand all that you still don’t know how to voice yourself. “Remember our pinky promise from last year?”

Jonathan wiggles his pinky at you, unsure where you’re going with this. “I do.”

“We’ll always stay like this, right? You and me?” You know it’s selfish to ask, to expect everything to stay the same between you, but losing Jonathan would be the one thing you’d never recover from. He’s in your bones, now. He’s grown up alongside you, patched up your wounds as a child and now holds your hands through the nightmares you face together. 

It doesn’t matter how you and Jonathan end, whether you’re lovers in this universe or simply the best of friends. Regardless of what’s happened, he’s the most important person in your life. He always will be.

Jonathan presses a kiss upon your forehead, his lips warm. “Always, and I’ll always love you the most, bug.”

“I’ll always love you the most, bee.” The words come easily to you, an exhale after being inhaled so long ago. 

The world stills. Then, as slow as the sun rises after a harsh winter’s night, the strings and lines finally settle between you two.

“Let’s go to bed.” Jonathan whispers, wanting to hold onto you for at least a few more hours. 

In the late morning hours the two of you will wake up, and it will be the last time you do so in each other’s arms. 

– 

When Jonathan drops you off at home the next day, your mom freaks when she sees you. Dustin had tried to prepare her, making up some lie about how you’d fallen down at the Byers’ house and that’s why you couldn’t come home for a few days. However, your mom still had a heart attack when you walked through the front door with a split head, black eye, bruised neck, and a bloodied side. 

“My baby!” She took you into her arms and immediately set her eyes on Jonathan. “What, did you have a bear in the house or something?”

Jonathan looked over at Dustin with a helpless look on his face and your brother had sighed. He figured he’d have to be the one to take over. “Like I said, mom. Y/N just got really into our campaign and fell. She’s fine, I mean, look at her!”

You did your best to appear very fine and healthy, despite your concussion forming a horrendous headache. You forced a smile on your face, all teeth. “All fine and dandy, mom.”

Claudia Henderson hadn’t bought it.

You were placed under house arrest for two weeks. 

During these two weeks, you were only allowed to leave the house to either go to work (somehow Mrs. Waters still hasn’t fired you despite missing three days of work), and go to school. It wasn’t so bad, though. You had needed the rest, and Nancy visited you a few days into your house arrest.

You’re not sure when she officially began her relationship with Jonathan, but the first time she came to see you, she had brought a giant basket full of baked goods and comics she had asked Jonathan about. 

“You didn’t have to get me anything, Nance.” You had informed the girl when you saw her struggling to carry the basket. 

“I stole your boyfriend, it’s the least I could do.” You stared at her, eyes so wide that your black eye almost fully opened, and Nancy had let out a loud laugh. You’d never heard her laugh so openly before, and it was a beautiful sight. “It was a joke, Y/N. It’s okay to laugh.”

“Ha, ha, Wheeler.” You took the basket from her and inspected its contents. There were more comics than you could count and the muffins smelled delicious. “This is a good haul.”

Nancy had smiled, relieved that she’d done something right. She had bugged Jonathan all day yesterday, anxious to do something nice for you because she felt this crippling need to make you like her. He had reassured her a million times that you did already like her, but Nancy has never been the best at making friends, and she knows the history between you and her is tense. 

“You really like it?”

“I love it, dude.” You saw the way Nancy’s body relaxed, as if she had been terrified you’d burn the basket in front of her face. It’s only then that you realized why she was there. “You and Jonathan finally seal the deal?”

Nancy blushed, still unused to how well you perceive others. “We did.”

“Took you guys long enough!” You squealed and threw your arms around her, elated for your friends. Sure, it still stung a bit, but Nancy was trying, so you were too. “But can I say just one thing, and then we’ll bury the hatchet for good?”

“Of course, Y/N.” Nancy said, though you felt her body tense underneath your hold. She had been bracing for impact, and it broke your heart to imagine how she was feeling in that moment. 

You grabbed her hand and looked her in the eye. “I’m happy for you two, I really am, okay? You know my history with Jonathan, and I’m sure he’s told you everything, but I need you to listen very carefully to what I’m about to say.”

“I’m listening,” she whispered, gripping your hand tightly. 

“If anything, and I mean anything, bothers you about my relationship with him, I need you to tell me. Don’t let anything simmer, don’t swallow down any hurt. I need you to know that I will always respect your guys’ relationship, and if you ever feel that I don’t, please tell me.”

Nancy, to your surprise, had laughed. “That’s it? Geesh, Y/N. I was expecting you to threaten me with your knives or something. I understand your connection with Jonathan, I know what I agreed to.” She paused, and then added with a sly smirk, “Besides, I know you wouldn’t cross any boundaries because you’ve spent practically all year pining after Steve.”

“I did not!” You gaped at her, shocked that she would say such a thing, and Nancy laughed so hard that it took both you and her another ten minutes to say anything else. It was lovely, laughing alongside the girl you once held so much resentment over. Now there you were, rib cage aching with glee.

And that’s how Nancy Wheeler became your best friend.  

After that, things seemed to settle down during the month that followed the events of Hawkin’s Lab. 

While you healed your wounds at home, Jonathan and Nancy came to visit you whenever they could. It was weird, at first, being in the same room as them now that they were together, but within minutes the three of you formed your own dynamic. You and Nancy teased Jonathan while he simply shook his head at the two of you and did whatever you asked. 

It was a good dynamic, really. 

A week into house arrest, your mom let you finally return to work.

Of course, on your first day back, Steve was standing inside of Bookstrordinary, waiting for you. 

Seeing him there, hair messy and smile warm, felt like coming home. 

“Back so soon?” You had teased, walking slowly up to him. 

His smile widened and he grabbed your hand and tugged you closer, impatient with how long it was taking you to come to him. “Like I could wait any longer.”

“I stack and you sort?”

“Let’s get to work, Henderson.” He winked and spun you around, causing you to giggle, a sound he’d come to adore, and the two of you set off to work. 

Steve becomes a regular at Bookstrorindary again, and one day you come home from school to find him sitting at your kitchen table with Dustin and your mom. They were eating an after school snack together, chatting as if they were old friends. Your mom was even blushing as Steve charmed her. It was a disorienting sight, to say the least. 

“Is this going to be a thing now?” You’d asked, setting your backpack down to grab your own snack and join. 

“I invited him.” Dustin said with a mouth full of apples. “He’s cool, and mom likes him, so. Yeah.”

Your mom pinched Steve’s cheek and giggled. “He’s just so charming!”

Steve sent you a wink, basking in your mother’s praise, and in that moment, seeing him with the two people you loved most in this world, you knew.

It hit you like a warm, soft summer breeze. It swirled around you, kissed your skin the way only the sun can do, and you could almost smell the fresh summer honey that your dad used to buy for your birthday. The feeling was serene, it felt as easy as exhaling.

You were in love with Steve Harrington. 

Only this time, the realization made you smile; you accepted it with open arms. You walked over to him and ruffled his hair before sitting next to him at the table. Biting your own apple, you winked at your mom, agreeing with what she had said. “He is indeed very charming.”

Dustin gagged while Steve draped an arm across your chair and stole your apple. “That I am, Y/N.”

Maybe love wasn’t so bad after all.

The following week, both Steve and Nancy asked you to attend Barb’s funeral, and of course you went. 

It was a small service, and Jonathan held Nancy’s hand throughout all of it. While it hurt to see her cry, you can’t help but think about how incredible Nancy is. She’s the reason that Barb is even getting a funeral in the first place, having brilliantly exposed Hawkin’s Lab and giving her friend the justice she deserves. 

Steve stood next to you, stoic and guilty, and after the service ended you had to pull him aside and remind him that none of it had been his fault. He listened, but you know he hadn’t necessarily heard you.

It’s similar to how you feel with Will, and how Jonathan feels with you, and Nancy with Barb. 

You all hold a heavy weight within you, of guilt and shame and despair. There’s nothing that specifically can be done to lessen it. All you can do is allow the ones you love to carry the weight with you, to share it and accept the help that they offer. 

Time can’t heal all wounds, you recognize this now, so you do things for those you love and see the good that’s still there, even if it’s hard sometimes. 

And that’s what you do.

You start stopping by Hopper’s cabin to see El.

He hated it at first, but when you showed up one day with a box of nail polish and comics, El had been so overjoyed that he simply sighed and let you in. 

You teach the girl how to read, having her say words out loud as you paint her nails, and it’s lovely. It’s rare to get the girl all to yourself, so spending time with her is always the favorite part of your day. Plus, she starts to get really into Spider-Man, so you’ve done your job as an avid fan. 

As for Will and the boys, you start to make it a point to partake in their DnD campaigns whenever possible. While it’s hard balancing work, school, El, and the party, you don’t regret it for a single second. It’s exhausting, but a good kind of exhaustion. One that leaves your bones aching in a rewarding way at the end of the day.

You’ll never tell Jonathan this, but he had been right a few months ago. You’d been burning yourself out, running away from everything you didn’t want to confront, from your feelings to your crippling worry for the kids. You’re not sure how much you had left in you, looking back now.

You had been drowning for a long, long time. 

But as you pick up Dustin and Will from Mike’s, Jonathan by your side as always, your nails painted a messy shade of blue thanks to El, and Steve waiting for you back at your house, you’re finally able to breathe. 

– 

It somehow takes you the entire day to get Dustin ready for the Snowball. 

He’s running around the house, frantically trying to find his bowtie that he’s misplaced, and you’re currently digging through the endless supply of hairspray that Steve dropped off yesterday. There’s so much hair products within the bag that he delivered, and it actually scares you a little. 

No way this much chemicals can be good for a kid. 

“Did you find the bowtie?” You yell from the bathroom, finally managing to open the bottle of hairspray that Steve specifically told you to use first. 

“Yes!” Dustin runs back into the bathroom and throws the piece of fabric at you. “Quick, put it on while I spray my hair!” 

You roll your eyes at him but do as he asks, securing his bowtie to his baby blue button shirt. However, as he sprays his hair, he almost blinds you in the process. “Christ, Dustin! That’s practically a weapon.”

He continues to spray. “You’re the one who insisted on helping me get ready.”

“I wanted you to look handsome,” you coo at him, straightening his bowtie one final time before stepping back and admiring your handiwork. “All done, and look at you!”

Dustin sprays even more product into his hair and tries to shove you out of the bathroom, but he secretly preens. “Am I really handsome?”

You admire him and you can’t believe how grown up he is now. He’s grown another three inches since last month and with the way he’s styled his hair, he looks like a teenager. Your heart stings a bit, seeing him no longer look like the little brother you know and love. He’s changing, growing up. “The handsomest.”

He smiles at you. “Thanks, Y/N. Now go get dressed while I finish my hair. Steve will be here any minute!”

You salute him and run to your room. Nancy had asked you to chaperon alongside her at the dance, and you figured it’d be fun watching Dustin and the party failing miserably with prepubescent girls, so you agreed. However, because it somehow took five hours helping your brother get ready, you run around your room in a hurry.

You’ve just finished applying some mascara when the doorbell rings, and your heart skips a beat.

“Y/N, Steve is here!” Your mother calls, a slight glee in her voice. She’s quickly come to adore the boy, something that Steve milks whenever he can. He’s incredibly proud of it, honestly. 

You run to the door and open it, Dustin is still spraying his hair to death in the bathroom. 

When Steve sees you, he forgets how to speak. You’re dressed in a soft white dress and you’ve pinned the front two pieces of your hair back. You’ve dotted your lips with a berry-red lipstick and your cheeks look more flushed than usual. 

You see the blush that immediately forms on Steve’s cheeks and you giggle, suddenly shy. It’s awkward, but a nice awkward between you two. “Hey.”

“H–hi.” His voice squeaks and he clears his throat. “I–I mean, hey. You, uh… You look. Wow. I mean, not wow, but also wow–”

“Dude,” Dustin now joins and looks disappointedly at Steve. “Get it together, man.”

He pats his chest and starts heading towards the car, and you can’t help but snort. “He’s so lovely, isn’t he?”

Steve holds out his arm for you to take, the momentary awkwardness now gone. “The Henderson charm is a fascinating thing.”

During the car ride, the closer Steve gets to the school, the more you see Dustin fidget in the back seat. He had been so excited earlier, but now you notice the doubt in his eyes and the way he keeps patting his hair, unsure. 

You tap Steve’s hand to get his attention. When he looks over, you motion towards the backseat and he realizes what you’re trying to tell him. He nods, and the two of you silently agree to give the kid a pep talk once you get to the school. 

“Alright, buddy. Here we are.” Steve parks the car and tries to give Dustin a reassuring smile, but your brother looks out the window and exhales nervously. “Remember, once you get in there…”

“Pretend like I don’t care.”

You interrupt. “Okay, no. I thought we abandoned that idea last month.”

“Technically you abandoned it, I didn’t.” Dustin responds, and Steve shrugs his shoulders at you. 

“Dustin, I really want you to be yourself, okay?” You turn to face the kid. “What did I tell you last month, huh?”

“That we Hendersons are charming people.” He grumbles. 

“Exactly, and I meant that. Use your charm, buddy.”

Dustin isn’t listening, instead he tries to look at himself in the rearview mirror to once again fix his hair. Steve sees this and stops him. “Hey, listen to your sister, alright? You look great, okay?”

“Such a handsome lad.”

Steve puts his hand up to stop you. “Okay, ignore her and listen to me. Now, you’re gonna go in there…”

Dustin nods. “Yeah.”

“Look like a million bucks.”

“Yeah!”

“And you’re gonna slay ‘em dead.”

“Like a lion.”

You cringe. “I’m not at all liking this language use in relation to women.”

Dustin purrs, just to spite you, but now Steve cringes and shakes his head, “Yeah, don’t do that, okay?”

“Okay.” Dustin deflates, but when Steve offers him his hand to shake, his face lights back up and he accepts it. 

Steve winks at the kid. “Good luck.”

“You got this!” You shout as Dustin exits the car. He gives you a thumbs up and starts to walk towards the school, leaving just you and Steve alone in the car. 

With Dustin gone, a tension creeps within the car. You look over at Steve and he catches your eye, and your stomach flutters. You can’t deny that there’s nothing there, and it’s… it’s nice, honestly. 

You don’t feel the same fear you did with Jonathan. You can look at Steve and admire his beauty and all you feel is warmth. His smile doesn’t hurt you, and the way he’s looking at you so unabashedly no longer scares you. 

“You look beautiful, Y/N.” Steve says, his voice honest and dripping with honey. 

You blush, and he wants to kiss the pretty red until it colors his own lips as well. “Thank you.”

There’s more you both want to say, but for now you simply enjoy each other’s presence. It’s too soon, you know this. He’s still in love with Nancy, and you don’t blame him. Instead, you bask in his gaze and he admires how lovely you are. How lovely you always are.

He feels it, too. He knows what you’re thinking, and for once he feels comfortable with where he is. You’re here, next to him, expecting nothing but what you know he’s ready to give you. 

You press a kiss to his cheek, and Steve’s heart aches. “Drive home safe, okay?”

As you pull away, he catches your arm and stops you. You look up, confused, and Steve’s gaze softens. He doesn’t know how else to say it, how else to ask you to stay. “Be patient with me, okay?”

You don’t have to ask what he means; you know. 

Whatever he needs, you’ll give it to him. You place a hand on his face and stroke his cheek, he leans against the touch and closes his eyes. This is the easiest promise you’ve ever made. “Take all the time you need, I’ll be here.”

The words cause Steve to sigh, you’re too good for him. You’re everything lovely and beautiful and kind, and Steve can’t believe how lucky he is to know you, to have you in his life the way no one else does. That you’ll wait for him, trusting him with your heart, and he can’t believe that you’re real.

“You’re an angel.” He breathes out, feeling everything constrict within his chest when you smile. 

“And you’re sweet honey.” You press one last kiss to Steve’s face and get out of the car. No other words are needed. 

Steve watches you as you leave, your kiss still burning his face, the same burning warmth he’s come to love about you. He watches as you walk up to Nancy inside the school and she hands you a drink, the two of you laughing. You both look so different standing side by side. 

A girl Steve loves and the girl he knows that in time he’ll come to love more than anything else. 

He’s already falling for you, he thinks he has been ever since he first saw you all those years ago when you were twelve and he was thirteen. He’s falling for you, but he won’t rush it. It wouldn’t be fair to you, not after everything you’ve been through. 

So Steve admires you, he watches the way your hair dances as you laugh and the way the kids around you smile in admiration. He forgets that Nancy is even there, his eyes only on you, and for the first time in a long time, Steve smiles a real smile. 

Your kiss on his cheek lingers, and he presses his fingers to it and feels his body warm. You’ll be waiting for him, and that’s more than enough for now.

Take your time, I’ll be here.

And Steve believes you.

[END OF SEASON 2]

-

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[chrisevansonly]

𝐇𝐨𝐭 𝐂𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐚 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 (𝐫𝐮𝐞’𝐬 𝐣𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐜 2)

𝐦𝐚𝐱 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: there is nothing more max loves than your homemade hot chocolate, especially knowing now he’ll get it for the rest of his life

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none very fluffy and cute🫶🏻

𝐚/𝐧: yay fic number two for my jingle bell ball! i hope everyone is doing okay! im feeling a bit better today but still taking it easy

🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄🎄

The living room was dimly lit, the fireplace crackling, a candle filtering in the corner filling the room with a soft scent of fresh cut balsam, of course a necessity as you and Max has a fake Christmas tree.

The light was bouncing off the newly placed diamond ring on your left hand, your eyes still looking at it, it was beautiful really, and a surprise even you didn’t see coming.

“Is it okay?”

Glancing up you noticed Max, a smile on his face in his hands a santa mug and a snowman mug, you knew exactly what he was waiting to ask

“It’s beautiful baby, I love it..and I love you”

“I love you too, you deserve only the best”

His eyes almost twinkled at your confirmation, before you let out a soft laugh

“Are you waiting to ask me to make hot chocolate Mr.Verstappen?”

“How did you know Mrs.Vertsappen?”

You couldn’t help the way your face flushed at the future title you’d soon have

“Well you usually come and stand by me looking all cute and sometimes pouty…also the mugs gave it away”

In classic Max fashion he rolled his eyes, not wanting to admit that to you, but begrudgingly holding out the mugs to you

“Okay okay i’ll stop teasing, you set up the couch for a movie and i’ll go make us some cocoa”

“Thank you” he mumbled softly, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips

“You’re welcome my big baby”

Pressing a kiss to his lips you disappeared to the kitchen, cutting up some milk and dark chocolate before setting them over hot water to melt. Stirring the chocolate as you heated some milk up on the element beside it, you’d been making this recipe since you were a little girl with your grandmother and now Max couldn’t get enough of it. None of his friends could either, and yes, last year you ended up making the biggest amount of hot cocoa you had ever made.

Truthfully it was the most fun you’d had.

You placed the mugs down on the countertop, pouring the milk into them before dividing up the chocolate mixture evenly, being sure to incorporate all the the ingredients before topping them with mini marshmallows, Max’s favourite.

“Alright my little grinch, here is your cocoa”

Max let out a laugh before taking the snowman mug from you, smiling as he noticed the marshmallows

“It looks amazing, thank you darling”

“You are very welcome my love”

He helped you get comfy next to him on the couch, pulling a few of the fuzzy blankets over your laps, Elf waiting to play on the television. As always you let him take the first sip, smiling as he closed his eyes and nodded

“I knew I was making the right decision asking you to marry me” he teased lightly causing you to gasp

“Max Emilian Verstappen did you only ask me for my hot cocoa?!”

He shrugged, a smirk on his face

“Your hot cocoa privileges have been revoked!”

As you went to grab his mug he moved his hand, his eyes widening

“NO DON’T TAKE MY COCOA!!”

“THEN TAKE IT BACK!!”

Max finally relented, letting out a laugh at your grumpy pout

“Alright alright baby, I asked you because I love you I promise…”

You narrowed your eyes at him

“Good.”

“Though the hot cocoa-”

“MAX!”

Your fiancé might be the biggest pain in the ass, but he was yours and he also happened to be the biggest fan of your hot chocolate, which in your mind, made up for everything else.

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

You’ve bewitched me, body and soul

Summary: A war lasting three years became heavy on the front lines. Many people died and lost their homes from the actions of one kingdom. But to end the war, both kingdoms agreed to seal an alliance through an arranged marriage. Caught in a loveless marriage with the crown prince, a whirlwind of emotions blasts through foreign land as you try to make your life in the enemy kingdom bearable.

Warnings: slow-burn. Leon is a piece of dick in the beginning. angst. eventual smut. SMUT. creampie. mentions of pregnancy. arranged marriage. reader is a princess and Leon is the crown prince. enemies to lovers (i think?). inaccurate historical information. READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION. also, reader has brown eyes (for story purposes, everything else doesn’t really matter lol.)

Word Count: 13,027

A/N: IM SO GLAD PEOPLE LIKE THIS🥹🥹 I love historical romance, I eat it up every time so I didn’t want to mess this up. Thank you all so much for your support!!! MWUAH MWUAH MWUAH

[pt.1][pt.3]

“He’s got so much in his heart, but he doesn’t know what to do” — John Wayne, Cigarettes After Sex

As training came to an end, Andrews bid Leon goodbye as he went with the other soldiers to the knight’s quarters. You were standing in front of a portrait, a woman, Leon’s mother.

Leon, tired and sweaty from training, was on his way back to his chambers when he noticed you standing in front of his mother's portrait.

He paused for a moment, his heart clenching. He hadn't expected to run into you here, but there you were, standing in front of the portrait of the woman he loved and lost. He took a deep breath, steeling himself before he approached you, standing beside you in front of the portrait.

You were too focused on the painting of his deceased mother, you’ve heard the servants say he lost his mother in the war. The same war against your kingdom.

But then, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed someone next to you. It was Leon. Your eyes widened slightly and then you turned to look at him but then you remembered the argument in the library and you turned to look back at the painting. You didn’t want to be a burden so I held your tongue.

Leon shifted awkwardly next to you, feeling the tension between the two of you. But Andrews' words echoed in his head, reminding him that he needed to start seeing you for who you are, not just the enemy princess.

He took a deep breath and spoke, his voice low and gruff, "Do you..." he started, his throat feeling dry.

You quickly turned your head to look at him as he started to speak, giving him your attention.

“Do I…” you repeated quietly, trying to understand what he was trying to say. There was something different about him right now, maybe it was because he just finished his training but something told you he was acting differently. Less hostile towards you.

Leon took another deep breath before continuing, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts and memories.

He remembered the pain and anger he felt when his mother died, the way it fueled his desire for revenge against your kingdom.

But he also remembered Andrews' words, reminding him that you weren't responsible for any of it. That it wasn't your fault.

So he pushed down his anger and spoke again, his voice a bit gentler, "Do you... know who that is?" he nodded towards the portrait of his mother.

His soft voice took you by surprise, it was a nice change for once instead of him snapping at you and saying mean things to you.

You looked back at the portrait and then back at him, nodding your head, “Yes,” you replied softly, “This is the former queen, your mother.”

Leon felt a pang in his chest as you confirmed that you knew who his mother was. It was a memory that still stung and hurt, but hearing you speak about her with respect and not hostility made him feel… different.

He glanced at you, his gaze flickering over your expression before he shifted his focus back to the portrait.

"She was… a good woman," he said quietly, his voice laced with a hint of tenderness that was rarely present when he spoke to you.

You knew what your kingdom did and it made you feel so guilty. The war took the lives of many including his mother.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered and turned your head to look up at him. You were slowly starting to understand why he hated you. It was hatred by association. He got sent a bride from the kingdom that murdered his mom, he had every right to be angry. But you didn’t kill anyone with your own hands either.

You turned to look back at her portrait, not knowing what else to say. This whole situation was different than before. Leon's heart ached as you apologized, and he could tell that the guilt you felt was genuine.

He looked down at you, his mind torn between the anger and resentment he had held for so long and the understanding that none of this was your fault.

But old habits die hard.

"You don’t need to apologize," he said sharply, the harshness of his voice betraying the complex mix of emotions he was feeling, "You didn't do anything."

You looked back up at him, staring into his eyes and for once you saw him aside from his cold and harsh self. You saw a son grieving the loss of their mother and that made you feel really bad.

Your eyes drifted around his face, staring intently at every feature. The roundness of his eyes, the color of his irises, his lips that looked soft. But then you caught yourself staring and looked back at the portrait of his late mother. Leon’s eyes widened slightly as he noticed your gaze drifting across his face, taking in every feature. He could see the sympathy and guilt in your eyes and it made him feel… weirdly vulnerable.

“She’s beautiful,” you muttered under your breath. She truly was a gorgeous woman.

He cleared his throat, trying to shake off the feeling as you looked back at his mother’s portrait.

"Yes, she was,” he replied quietly, his voice low and hoarse, "A lot of people always said I have her eyes.”

A small chuckle escaped your lips as a small smile reached your lips. You stared at the painting intently, “I can see it,” you replied quietly.

Then you looked over at him, “You do have similar eyes,” you muttered under your breath in agreement. The moment was vulnerable, a contrast to what usually happens when you’re around each other.

Leon felt a small pang in his chest as you chuckled and agreed with him. It was a strange moment, a rare one where the hostility between the two of you was replaced by something else. Something more… gentle.

He couldn’t help but notice how calm you seemed, no longer tense and guarded like you usually were when he was around. He found himself taking a step closer to you, his body almost imperceptibly drawn towards you.

He cleared his throat, again, and looked back at his mother’s portrait, trying to force himself to keep his distance.

Andrews seemed to be right, for the first time ever since you came here, it only took him to put his anger aside to finally see you for you. It was a good thing for your relationship.

You nibbled on my bottom lip, shifting awkwardly before you spoke up in a nervous tone, even though you tried to hide it under a calm blanket, “I didn’t get any of my parent's eyes,” you mumbled with an awkward chuckle.

“My dad has blue eyes and my mom has green eyes but I came out with brown eyes,” you said as you glanced at him before looking back at the portrait.

Leon couldn’t help but notice the nervous yet earnest edge to your voice as you spoke.

He looked down at you, a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Your comment about your eyes made him feel… oddly endeared. It was a mundane detail that was entirely meaningless in the grand scheme of things, yet it made him see you in a different light.

“Well,” he said, his tone softer than usual, “brown suits you.”

You felt your cheeks warm up a bit, did he just compliment you for the first time? You couldn’t hide the smile creeping up on your face, and then you looked at him, “Thanks…” you replied softly.

Leon’s heart skipped a beat as he heard your soft reply and the hint of a smile on your lips. He felt his own mouth twitch upwards at the corners in response, his heart beating a little faster than usual.

“I’d probably look weird with blue eyes,” you mumbled, trying to be nonchalant but secretly your heart was beating really fast, “Guess my eyes didn’t get the memo with my parents.”

He chuckled at your joke, the sound escaping him almost unintentionally. You chuckled nervously at your own joke, but as you stared at his mother’s portrait, you couldn’t help but say something in a soft mutter, “Blue suits you.”

He caught your comment about his eyes, and he felt his cheeks start to heat up, “Thanks,” he finally said, his voice almost a whisper. He glanced down at you again, feeling a strange fluttering in his stomach.

You felt his gaze on you and you turned to look up at him. For the first time, there was no hostility and hatred. It felt nice.

You opened my mouth to say something but you didn’t know what to say. Sure, you were married but it wasn’t like you did anything couples did. You felt a bit awkward but you also felt giddy?

“Are you…” you started quietly in a whisper, your heart beating fast as you looked up at him.

Leon’s gaze lingered on you as you looked up at him, his heart racing in his chest. He waited patiently as you spoke, his breath catching in his throat as he heard the question.

“Am I…?” he repeated, his voice low and soft, barely above a whisper. He was acutely aware of how close the two of you were standing, the air between you almost crackling with something he couldn’t quite identify.

“Are you…” you repeated nervously as you stared into his blue eyes, you then swallowed dryly and proceeded, “Are you going to bed?”

You were so nervous for some reason, your heart hammering inside your chest as you waited for his answer. You didn’t even know why you asked that. He just came out of his training and it was nighttime. He was covered in sweat and was probably tired.

You nibbled on your bottom lip just slightly, doing it almost subconsciously, a nervous habit.

He met your gaze head-on, and he couldn’t help but notice the way you nibbled on your bottom lip. He had to resist the sudden and strange urge to reach out and touch your face.

“I am,” he replied, his voice low and gruff. He wasn’t expecting the conversation to go in this direction and it was slightly throwing him off guard.

You nodded slowly, of course he was. His servants were probably waiting for him so he could take a bath and change into his night clothes.

“I, uh,” you stumbled upon your words as you shifted your weight between your legs, “I don’t know why I asked,” you muttered truthfully.

Leon couldn’t help the small, amused smile that tugged at the corner of his lips as you stumbled over your words. It was strangely endearing.

“Was training good?” You suddenly asked, not wanting the moment to end with him.

He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, his eyes never leaving yours, “Training was fine,” he replied quietly. He wasn’t sure why you asked that either, but somehow it didn’t matter. He found himself wanting the moment to last, just as you did.

“I should…” he started, motioning vaguely down the hallway towards his chambers.

You looked behind to see where he was pointing at, your shared chambers. You quickly looked back up at him and nodded, “Right, yeah, I shouldn’t take more of your time,” you muttered nervously.

“Your servants are probably wondering what’s taking so long,” you chuckled nervously and chewed on your bottom lip again out of nervousness.

You looked down at your feet, seeing your heels from under your dress before you looked back up at him, “I should probably go too,” you muttered but you made no effort to move.

He nodded in response, his eyes fixed on you. He noticed how you couldn’t seem to stop fidgeting, how you chewed on your bottom lip nervously. He didn’t want you to leave, but he didn’t know how to express it without sounding strange.

“Yeah…” he agreed, nodding slowly. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering down to your lips.

“I…” you muttered softly as you saw his eyes flick down to your lips and felt your breath hitch for a moment. Your eyes subsequently doing the same to his lips.

You quickly looked back up at him, “Goodnight then,” you whispered before you moved to the side and started to walk down the hall, opposite of him.

Your heels echoed through the air, you glanced behind your shoulder to look at him, your breath hitching once more and you subconsciously quickened your pace. Why were you feeling so nervous all of a sudden?

You didn’t go to your shared quarters, not yet at least, you actually walked towards the library and closed the door. The entire interaction seemed out of the ordinary.

You paced around the bookshelves as you thought to yourself what led to the sudden change in him. Why did he suddenly start to treat you different. It was nice but you couldn’t help but question it a bit.

Leon went through his nightly routine in a daze. His mind was racing with thoughts of you and the strange, new feeling in his chest.

The servants washed him, dried him, and dressed him in his night clothes, but he barely registered their presence. He was too preoccupied with thinking about the conversation he had just had with you. Finishing, the servants bowed respectfully and left silently, leaving Leon alone in his chambers. He sat down on the edge of the bed, his mind still occupied with thoughts of you.

Maybe Andrews was right, all he needed to do was put his anger aside and treat you differently. Andrews really was too smart for his own good. Sure, it wasn’t easy and it’s a bit confusing to suddenly act different to the person from the enemy kingdom, but you were his wife now. And Andrews seemed to have noticed how unfair and terrible he had treated you before.

Your maids also bathed you and helped you change into your night dress. The dress being white and reaching the floor, the silky material dragging as padded to your shared quarters.

Leon looked up as you entered the room, his heart skipping a beat again. He observed the way the silky fabric of your night dress hugged your figure and it made his stomach flip once more.

He quickly looked away, trying to control the unwanted reaction he was having to your presence. He hadn't slept in the same bed as you ever since you arrived here and he was having a hard time understanding why that suddenly bothered him.

"You're here," he stated quietly, his voice low and gruff.

“My lord,” you quickly curtsied and nodded, “Yeah,” you muttered breathlessly, feeling your voice get stuck in your throat, “I’m here.”

Usually, he slept on the couch near the fireplace and a part of you still remembered all his mean words.

But this was unexpected and new. You slowly walked over to the couch, thinking he wanted to sleep on the bed instead. A strange feeling washed over him as he saw you approach the couch, assuming he wanted to sleep on the bed.

"No," he said suddenly, stopping you in your tracks.

His voice was soft, but there was a hint of command in it. He patted the bed next to him, signaling for you to come closer.

You looked over at him and saw him patting the side next to him on the bed. Your heart was beating fast, he wants to sleep on the same bed? You stared at him in shock for a few seconds before you nodded and made your way towards the bed.

You’ve only been married for three months but this would be the first night you’ve ever shared the same bed, somehow, it felt like the first day of your marriage.

You sat down on the edge of the bed, fixing your hair and dress nervously before you laid down on your back next to him. You both stared at the ceiling with your shoulders close to each other.

For a few moments, the two of you were silent, both staring at the ceiling. Leon couldn't help but steal small glances at you, his eyes flickering over your features.

Your hands were down at your sides. Since you were laying next to each other, your hands were so close to his. You could practically feel his body heat radiate from him. You moved your pinky, your finger gently grazing his hand. Leon felt the gentle graze of your pinky against his hand and it sent a small shiver down his spine. He couldn't deny the fact that he wanted to hold your hand, to feel the soft warmth of your skin against his own.

He glanced over at you again, his eyes flickering over your features. Your body was so close to his own, and he could feel the heat radiating between you.

Suddenly, he reached out and took your hand in his own. His grip was gentle but firm, his fingers intertwining with your own.

A quiet gasp escaped your lips when you felt him take your hand and intertwine his fingers with your own. Blood rushed to your cheeks and you u looked down at your joined hands.

His hand was bigger than yours and felt rougher with callouses, presumably from his sword training. Your hand was smaller and dainty, soft and smooth as it signified your royal status as princess.

You turned your head to the side to look at him. Your eyes roaming his features, taking him in and committing him to memory. Then, you held his hand back just as firm, giving it a little squeeze.

Leon felt a strange warmth spread through his chest as you squeezed his hand in return. He couldn't help but feel a strange sense of rightness about this moment, holding your hand as you laid next to each other in the bed. His thumb began to brush over your knuckles, the callouses on his skin creating a pleasant friction against your softness.

He turned to look at you, his eyes meeting yours as you took in his features. His breathing became slightly uneven.

A small but closed-lipped smile appeared on your face when you felt his thumb brush over your knuckles. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, your breathing also becoming uneven.

You eyes stared deeply into his eyes before they accidentally dropped down to his lips. You forced your eyes back to look at his blue eyes, feeling absolutely nervous.

Leon noticed the way your eyes lingered on his lips for a moment before quickly darting back up to his eyes. He felt a strange flutter in his chest as he realized you were as nervous as he was. He squeezed your hand gently as he leaned slightly closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours.

You didn’t move away as he leaned slightly closer to you, you swallowed dryly and parted your lips slightly as you maintained eye contact with him.

You unknowingly squeezed his hand out of nervousness, holding it firmly in yours as you felt yourself grow to be a ball of nerves. Which led you to do your nervous habit, nibble on your bottom lip and wondered how his lips would feel on yours.

The atmosphere was tense but not in the way it used to be. There was no hatred and no malice, instead there was something else that you didn’t quite know.

He felt his own heart racing in his chest as he imagined how your lips would feel against his own. The tense atmosphere wasn't like it used to be, there was something else there. It was a feeling he hadn't experienced before.

Without thinking, he brought his hand up to gently grip your chin, tilting your face slightly closer to his. You quickly stopped nibbling on your bottom lip as you felt his gentle grip on your chin, his fingers held you gently as he tilted your face up and closer to his.

You parted your lips once again, your faces slowly losing distance until you could feel his warm breath on your face. You looked down at his lips before you looked up at his blue eyes.

And then you closed my eyes, waiting for him to kiss you as your other hand rested on his chest very faintly, as if not to hurt him.

Taking a deep breath, he closed the distance between you and pressed his lips against yours in a soft, hesitant kiss. Youwere both hesitant, scared of rejection when you were both married. It was almost funny. But then again, it was an arranged marriage to end the war.

His lips felt soft against yours and you found myself melting next to him. Your grip on his hand tightened a bit but then it relaxed as you mustered the courage to kiss him back.

The kiss was soft and tender, almost too gentle as if to say ‘I don’t want to hurt you’ or ‘I don’t want to scare you.’

Leon couldn't believe how good it felt to finally kiss you, to feel your soft lips against his own. He could feel your grip on his hand tighten for a moment before relaxing as you mustered the courage to kiss him back.

He couldn't ignore the way his heart fluttered in his chest as the kiss continued. He couldn't deny the fact that he wanted more, but part of him was afraid to take the next step.

He pulled away from the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, his breath ragged as he tried to slow down his racing heart.

You opened your eyes and stared at him as he leaned his forehead against yours. Your breathing was hard as you tried to catch your breath.

Your cheeks were flushed but you were…happy. Genuinely happy and you couldn’t help my smile. You let out a nervous laugh and moved to hide your face on his chest.

Leon felt a pang of guilt as he thought about the way he had treated you earlier that day. He had been harsh and cold, using sharp words that he knew would hurt you. But then he remembered his conversation with Andrews, how the man had convinced him to try and make things better. And now, here you were, lying together in bed, with Leon's forehead rested against your own.

As you let out a nervous laugh and hid your face on his chest, he couldn't help but feel a strange flutter in his heart. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. For three months you didn’t do anything a married couple should do, he slept on the couch while you slept on the bed. Since your first day, he ignored you and made sure to never speak to you or touch you. And the few times he did talk to you, he’d be mean to you and you’d only argue.

But here he was, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. You wrapped your arms around his waist, not wanting to let go anytime soon.

Leon could feel guilt tugging at his heart as he held you close in his arms. He knew he had been unkind and distant towards you for far too long. He had pushed you away, treating you like an enemy instead of a wife.

He rested his chin on the top of your head, his arms wrapped tightly around you as if to hold you close forever. He couldn’t deny the fact that he was grateful to Andrews for making him see reason.

He understood now that this arrangement had affected you just as much as it had affected him. He knew that he had been blinded by anger and grief.

For the rest of the night, you slept in each other’s embrace. You may not have taken it further but you were content with the slow pace of change. In your opinion, you wanted to know him for who he is instead of just jumping straight to the action.

In hindsight, you could see yourself actually being happy with this marriage. All he needed was a wake up call and a clarity check from his friend.

When morning rolled up, his servants and your maids entered the room to wake you both up but they halted as they saw you two sleeping together on the bed. Their eyes bulging out as they stood speechless.

His eyes opened as he heard the sound of footsteps approaching the bed. He didn’t move, not wanting to disturb you, but he felt a pang of irritation at the interruption. He slowly untangled himself from your arms and sat up in bed, his eyes scanning the servants as they stood frozen in place.

You remained lying on the bed, oblivious to everything as sleep asleep. The servants and maids bowed at Leon, “Good morning, my lord,” they all said in a hushed tone as to not wake you up.

Which was great because you didn’t even stir in your sleep. The servants and the maids tried to continue with their routine as normal. Your maids going to the bathroom to set up your morning bath as his servants started to help him get ready behind the room divider for privacy.

The servants didn’t dare say anything to Leon about the way they found you and Leon sleeping. At the sound of water running, you groggily woke up, realizing it was morning. You sat up and rubbed your eyes before they landed on Leon behind the dressing screen. Your heart beat a little faster but you were soon taken out of your thoughts as a maid helped you to the bathroom for your bath.

Once you were taken to the bathroom by your maids, Leon’s thoughts lingered on the fact that he’d woken up next to you that morning. Nothing else happened except for the kiss, which was your first kiss, but you still enjoyed sleeping in his arms for some reason.

After your bath, your maids helped you get dressed. This time, you were wearing a light blue dress with jewels. It was perfect for summer as the straps hung down your arms. The length reached the floor, just like any other gown.

But as your maids helped with your hair, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Leon from the reflection of your mirror.

Leon was deep in thought as his servants helped him get dressed, his mind filled with thoughts about the previous night. He couldn't help but feel a pang of regret for how long he had been treating you badly, but at the same time, he was grateful for the change that had begun.

His eyes darted to the mirror that was placed in front of him as he caught sight of you in the reflection. He couldn't help but stare at you for a moment, admiring your beauty.

“My lord,” one of his servants said as he pulled him out of his thoughts, “today you have a meeting with the kings. It’s about the war that ended,” he whispered so you wouldn’t hear.

After the war ended between your kingdom and his kingdom, nothing was over by just having you two marry for an alliance. There were other things to discuss such as reparations and how to avoid future conflicts.

Your maids finished helping you get ready and you stood up from your vanity stool, “Come, my lady,” the head maid said, “breakfast will be served shortly,” then she started to guide you out of the room, not before you spared Leon one last glance, giving him a small smile before you disappeared into the hall.

He was pulled out of his thoughts as he heard the maid urging you to leave the room. He saw you give him one last smile before disappearing into the hallway.

He couldn’t help but return the smile, though he knew he had a lot on his plate for the day. He made a mental note to make time to talk to you later in the evening.

As you made it to the dining hall, you sat on the table where you were served warm breakfast. As you were about to take a bite, you noticed a few stares and saw your maids staring at you with curiosity.

“Yes?” You asked them as you took a small bite out of your breakfast. One of the maids stepped up, “My lady,” she spoke nervously, “did you and the lord…” she trailed but you knew what she meant. Your face turned red and you almost choked on your food. You quickly shook your head no, “No, no, no, it wasn’t like that. We just kissed and hugged.”

But at the revelation, their shoulders slumped in disappointment. You furrowed your brows confused but then spoke up softly, “But maybe in the future,” you muttered to which they heard and seemed to be happy? You were still getting used to this kingdom.

Back with Leon, his servant was telling him of his schedule: meeting with the kings, oversee taxation history of the town, sword training, and evaluate the final preparations for the upcoming festival.

Leon listened intently as his servant listed off his schedule for the day. It was going to be a busy one, he knew that much.

The mention of the upcoming festival tugged at his heartstrings, as he remembered how he used to attend with his mother. But now she was gone, and he couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness.

He pushed the thought aside as his servant continued to brief him on the other tasks he would need to attend to, including meeting with the other lords.

The servant guided him towards one of the many rooms of the castle, but this one was where the meeting was taking place. Upon Leon’s arrival, the older men stood up and bowed at Leon.

“Good morning, my lord,” they said before they sat down. There was the king, Leon’s father, sitting next to my father, the king of the kingdom they fought against in war. It seemed as if it were just the three of them.

“Ah, there’s my son,” the king said as Leon entered. Then he looked at my father, “Told you he’s been faring well.”

He nodded in acknowledgment as they resumed their seats. Leon’s eyes darted to his father and your father sitting next to each other, and he was surprised to find them being civil towards each other. He made his way to the empty seat at the table and sat down, his eyes flickering between his father and yours.

It was kind of surprising to see them civil, given that your father was the reason the whole war started in the first place. The whole reason why Leon’s mother died.

Your father stood up and formally addressed Leon and the king, “I’d like to start us off with the topic reparations,” he said before his snapped his fingers, signaling for his servant to bring something in.

A servant came in with a box, putting it in front of Leon and the king, “This is for the construction damages,” your father began, watching as the servant opened the box to reveal gold coins and bars.

Leon's expression remained neutral as your father addressed him and the king, but a wave of anger and resentment washed over him as he mentioned reparations.

His eyes darted to the box that was placed in front of him and his father as the servant opened it, revealing gold coins and bars. Leon couldn't help but feel a pang of anger at the thought that the war was the reason behind his mother's death.

He clenched his jaw but said nothing, his gaze flickering towards his father to gauge his reaction.

“Go on,” the king said as he looked at the contents of the box before he looked back at your father, a suspicious glint in his eyes.

Your father cleared his throat and proceeded, “No amount of wealth will bring people back from the dead. We’ve both lost incredible amounts of people,” he stated, “innocent lives were taken during the war and I stem accountability for starting it.”

Leon's expression remained stoic as he listened to your father's words. He could sense his father's skepticism as the king looked at the contents of the box before shifting his gaze back to your father.

“Hence why I propose we seal the alliance. We know that by marrying my daughter to Crown Prince Leon,” he gestured to Leon, “it was the start of the process of the peaceful era. Well, here gentlemen,” he said as he took out a rolled parchment before handing it to the king. It was a contract.

“That has my legal stamp, declaring my unwavering loyalty to our alliance and friendship. I will provide support and aid whenever you request just as how I expect you to do the same,” he stated as he bowed his head in respect.

As your father went on to propose sealing the alliance, Leon's mind raced with thoughts. He had mixed feelings about it all. On one hand, he knew that the marriage was a part of the process to bring peace and stability.

But on the other hand, he still harbored feelings of anger and resentment towards your father for starting the war and causing his mother's death.

The king hummed before he gave Leon the contract to let him have a read, obviously trusting Leon to also make a decision since he was the heir to the throne.

“What’s the catch?” The king suddenly asked your father. Your father shook his head and clasped his hand behind his back, “The catch, is not really a catch,” he said.

“It’s too simple Sylus,” the king said as he stood up and stared at your father, “Yes we agreed to have our children marry but it takes more than that to end a war.”

Leon took the contract and began to read through it, his eyes flitting across the page as he absorbed the contents of the agreement.

Sylus, your father, sighed, “Ever the observant, Your Highness,” he said before he stared at the king.

“The catch is,” he started nervously, “well, you see, in my family, the women usually have fertility issues,” he said as he gave Leon a brief glance before he focused back on the king, “I do not know if my daughter can even be with child and I do not want her to face the consequences for something she can’t control.”

Leon's eyebrows furrowed as he listened to your father explain about the fertility issues within your family. His heart suddenly felt heavy as he realized the implications of those words.

The thought of you not being able to bear children was a difficult one, but Leon knew he couldn’t change the situation. He was an heir who needed to create future heirs for the throne.

He looked up at his father, who seemed a bit surprised by your father's confession, and Leon couldn't help but feel the pressure weighing down on him.

“Are you certain, Sylus?” The king asked your father in a firm tone, “there needs to be an heir once my son becomes king and if your daughter can’t give him one then why did you send your daughter for marriage?”

“Your Highness, with all due respect, it’s not *all* the women,” he said nervously, “in my kingdom, fertility is blessed based on good health and my daughter has always been a strong one. She’s never once had chicken pox!” He chuckled nervously.

“But that doesn’t mean it’s not guaranteed,” the king argued back, he sighed and looked at Leon, “Have you tried?”

Leon felt the weight of the king's gaze upon him, and he shifted in his seat uncomfortably as the topic shifted to his private affairs with you.

"We... have not," Leon replied, his voice firm but his eyes avoiding his father's. He knew what he was really hinting at. Leon didn't want to admit it, but the idea of producing heirs hadn’t crossed his mind. He was a man with an obligation and he knew he would eventually have to perform his duties. But that was before he started to be nice to you, now he understood what his duties were aside from politics.

The king stared at Leon blankly, “Son…” he muttered, “It’s been *three* months since you’ve met her, how have you not—“

“Hey don’t rush them,” your father quickly interjected, “She’s young, she’s at the ripe age of childbirth…right?” He asked his servant who nodded at your father. He then looked back at the king with a shaky smile.

It was true that you were young, it gave the advantage of trying as many times as possible to conceive as it was your duties as future king and queen. Leon clenched his jaw, feeling frustrated by the conversation.

"We will try," Leon said, his voice firmer this time. He didn't want to be pressured into something. He could take care of things on his own. But deep down inside, he felt a hint of guilt. He felt bad that you were being used for his political ambitions.

His father gave Leon a firm nod, “You better,” then he looked over at your father. As a woman, it seemed as your only role was to have children, along with minor duties around the castle such as tending to the kitchen and garden.

“And you won’t have to worry about my daughter,” your father kept trying to lessen the king’s anger, “she’s good with children. Did I tell you about that time when she volunteered at a children’s church?” He chuckled nervously.

The king sighed, “Sylus, if your daughter can’t produce an heir then what use do I have for her?” Your father visibly wilted at his words, “She’s got many talents. She speaks five languages, she paints, she sings, she plays piano, she reads maps and knows geography. Believe me, she can be very useful when she wants.”

Leon's heart panged with sympathy as he listened to your father defend you, listing off your many talents and skills. He knew that you were not just a tool for producing heirs, but a person in your own right with your own abilities. And he felt guilty for realizing it after three months.

His father, however, seemed less impressed. He simply grunted in response to your father's words, not convinced by his defense. Your father sighed, “Give her a chance. She’s young, she’s at the right age for bearing kids,” he basically pleaded, “all she needs is time. You’ll have an heir before you know it.”

“Very well,” the king said before he took the contract, “I will sign it but until she is with child,” he then looked at Leon, “You better get to it.”

Leon clenched his jaw as his father gave his ultimatum. It was clear that the king saw your value only in your ability to bear children. Leon knew that he had a duty to produce heirs, but he struggled with the idea of treating you like nothing more than a vessel for bearing his children.

He nodded at his father, signaling his understanding of the king's condition, "I will," Leon said firmly, but his tone betrayed his internal conflict.

“Very well,” the king said before he stood up, taking the contract with him, “you’re all dismissed,” the king said before he started to walk out of the room. Once he was out, your father let out a sigh as he slumped on the chair.

“What am I going to do…” he muttered to himself as he rubbed his forehead, clearly this was affecting him as well. A father who only wanted to protect his daughter.

As Leon watched his father leave, he felt a sense of dread wash over him. He knew that he had to start fulfilling his duty as soon as possible.

He turned to your father and saw the tired, worried look on his face. He knew that the pressure was weighing heavy on him too.

"Don't worry," Leon said, his voice firm, "I'll do my duty. I'll make sure you don't regret giving your daughter to me."

Your father looked up at Leon, “I don’t,” he answered, “I don’t regret giving her to you, my lord.”

“My poor little girl,” he whispered to himself before he focused back on Leon, “She’s a great girl. She’s smart, she’s kind…” it was evident that your father was going through a whirlwind of stress and emotions.

Your father then stood up, giving Leon a deep bow in respect before he also walked out of the room to go back to his kingdom.

As your father left the room, Leon was left alone with his thoughts. He couldn't help but feel the weight of the king's words and expectations weighing down on him. He took a deep breath and pushed himself to stand up from his seat. He had a duty to fulfill and a promise to keep.

You were wandering the halls, yet again, oblivious to their meeting. You knew Leon was busy as the lord of the house, so you weren’t aware if they might be discussing.

“My lord,” the servant came over to Leon, “your next duty on the agenda is to foresee the taxes. The treasury just wants to hear your opinion, he says,” the servant said.

Leon had a promise and duty to fulfill, just as you did. The rest of his morning was full of tasks he had to do. It wasn’t until evening that his schedule was finally free. Leon spent the entire day attending to his responsibilities, from overseeing taxes to attending to other matters related to the house. Despite the busy schedule, his mind kept returning to the agreement and the king's condition.

As the sun began to set and the sky turned a hue of orange and purple, Leon finally had a moment of peace. He took a deep breath and looked out the window. The house suddenly felt so quiet and empty. Leon realized that he hadn't seen you all day. A pang of guilt gnawed at his heart.

You were in your shared quarters, talking to your maids. Your voices echoing around the walls of the room as the sound of clothes rustling was heard since the door was slightly ajar opened.

Right, today you had your new dresses delivered to you, “This one is gorgeous!” One of your maids said as she picked up a red ball gown.

“No, this is the one that beats all dresses in the kingdom,” another maid said she held a white gown. They were both beautiful and you could only laughed.

Leon stood outside the ajar open door, listening to the conversation between you and your maids. He heard your light laughter and the chatter about the dresses. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he heard your laughter. He didn't realize how much he had missed you until now.

He cleared his throat and knocked softly on the door, signaling his presence. Your maids quickly stood up straight up and tidied the room, the few boxes of dresses on the floor but upon seeing him, you smiled.

“My lord,” your maids greeted and curtsied as you stared at Leon before you remembered you had to do the same too. You were too caught up staring at him!

Leon was handsome, no doubt about that, but you still felt a bit embarrassed for forgetting to greet him formally. A hint of amusement flickered across his face as he took a step into the room, looking around at the boxes of dresses on the floor.

"No need for formalities," he assured your maids, his eyes shifting to you, "I merely came to check on my future Queen."

Your maids hurriedly tidied the place, they worked fast, right before they went over to the door, “We will leave you two alone.”

You nodded at them and watched as they left and closed the door, leaving you alone with Leon in your room. Your smile widened a bit, “Your future Queen?” You muttered softly as you stood in front of him.

“How was your meeting?” You asked as you stared up at him, “I heard my father visited. I wished I could’ve said hi but I was busy in the library,” since you weren’t in the meeting, you didn’t know what they talked about.

Leon chuckled softly, "Yes, my future Queen," he reiterated, his eyes never leaving yours as he looked down at you.

A hint of tension hung in the air as he remembered the real reason he was checking on you, but Leon quickly pushed those thoughts aside and focused his attention on you. He gently reached down and brushed a strand of hair from your face, "The meeting went fine," he said casually, not wanting to reveal the true topic of conversation.

You smiled softly at him, letting him brush your hair away from your face, his touch soft, “Not too stressful I hope,” you teased lightly.

“I hope my father didn’t give you and the king a hard time,” you said to him, “I know he can get a bit…well, he’s just very notably himself.”

Leon's gaze softened as he listened to your words, his mind briefly flitting back to the meeting and the king's ultimatum.

"Your father didn't give us a hard time," he replied with a slight smirk, "He can be... expressive, but that's what makes him unique. I can handle him."

He took a small step closer to you, his eyes searching your face, "But enough about the meeting. I wanted to spend some time with you."

A warm smile reached your lips, he wanted to spend time with you? You could feel your heart beat fast in the best way possible.

“You do?” You whispered teasingly as you couldn’t hide your smile, “Did the crown prince miss me already?” You chuckled softly.

You took a small step closer, hesitating for a moment before you rested your hands on his shoulders, “You better say you did,” you muttered in a fake threatening tone. Leon chuckled at your teasing, his eyes sparkling with amusement. He couldn't deny that he did miss you, but he would never admit it outright. He raised an eyebrow at your hands on his shoulders, but he made no move to remove them. Instead, he reached up and placed his hands on your hips, pulling you closer to him until there was barely any space between you.

"Is that so?" he teased back, "Are you threatening me, my future Queen?"

"Perhaps I do miss you," he said, his voice lowering, "Just a little."

You chuckled and stared at him with fondness in your eyes, for a moment, memories of the meeting were gone from his mind. Right now, it was just you two.

“I missed you too,” you muttered, “just a little,” you repeated his words with a grin. But you did miss him. The whole day you couldn’t stop thinking about him. Leon's heart skipped a beat at your admission that you missed him.

“So, what else happened in the meeting?” You asked quietly, not knowing what else to say, “Did the king say anything about…heirs?”

He looked down at you and his eyes darkened slightly, but he quickly schooled his expression and kept his voice casual.

"Heirs?" he repeated with feigned nonchalance, "Yes, the king mentioned heirs. He expects us to produce them... sooner rather than later."

Your face started to grow red. You understood that as a married couple, your duty was to produce an heir since you’ll be the new rulers of the kingdom. But at the same time, didn’t it seem like things were progressing too fast in your relationship? But maybe he was just being pressured by the king so you thought that deep down he probably only wants to fulfill his duty.

“Soon?” I repeated quietly, “very well,” I whispered and nodded, “When do you want to start?”

His hands on your hips tightened slightly in response to your question, his voice low and huskier than before, "Tonight," he answered, his eyes meeting yours, "I want to start tonight."

You nodded again as you looked up at him, “Alright, we’ll start tonight,” you whispered softly, “I’ll let my maids know so I can prepare.”

Part of you was a bit scared, you were pure and you didn’t know how it would feel to be intimate with someone. But you knew Leon wouldn’t hurt me voluntarily. So you trusted him, which surprised you.

“I should go prepare,” you whispered to him as you let go of his shoulders. He let go of your hips when you did, and he watched you closely, his heart racing in his chest.

"I'll see you in our quarters," he said softly, his tone both authoritative and tender, "Be ready for me when I get there."

You nodded and gave him a small smile, “I will,” you replied softly before you left the room. There was much to do and you wanted to look your best for him for tonight. You walked along the castle halls until you found your maids, letting them know about tonight and what needs to be done.

Leon watched you leave the room, his mind swirling with thoughts of what was to come. Guilt and desire warred within him, but he pushed them aside and focused on the task at hand.

As the hours ticked by slowly, Leon found himself pacing the corridors, waiting anxiously for the moment when he could finally return to his quarters and see you. The king's order echoed in his mind, a constant reminder of what was expected from him.

As the sun began to set and the hall grew dark, he finally made his way back towards your shared quarters.

The rest of the day was very busy for you. Your maids put all sorts of herbs and creams on your body to ensure your skin was soft as milk. They also did the same to your hair so it would shine and be as soft as silk. You stood in front of the mirror, watching as your maids dressed you in the appropriate dress for tonight. Candles were lit for the ambiance that made the room all more intimate. You were wearing a white night dress robe with lace around the edges, the material being thin and almost see through. You were wearing nothing under your dress as you knew what tonight meant. Your hair was down, all in its natural glory. Under the moonlight you looked like a goddess.

He stepped closer to the door, his hand reaching out to knock on the door before he hesitated. Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the door and stepped inside. Leon's breath hitched the moment he saw you. You looked like a vision, soft as silk and as beautiful as the night sky. Heat pooled in his gut as he fully saw the see-through dress you were wearing.

You heard the knock and turned around to find Leon. You were a bit nervous, did you look good? Desirable? You curtsied to him and smiled softly, “My lord.”

“You’re here,” you muttered softly. Leon's eyes roamed over you from head to toe, taking in your figure and the thin night dress. He swallowed hard, his pulse racing and his body responding to your mere presence.

He could see the hint of nervousness in your eyes, but there was also a mixture of desire and anticipation. He stepped closer to you, his hands aching to touch you, but he held back for the moment.

"I am," he replied in a soft, gruff voice, "And you look..." he trailed off, lost for words for a moment as he drank in your beauty. Your smile widened when he was at a loss for words, did you really look that good? You twirled around for him, your dress spinning with me. The candle lit room caused the warm flames to dance along on your skin, the shine from the creams encapsulating the richness and softness of your skin.

“Good?” You asked softly, not sure if you actually looked beautiful.

"Good doesn't even begin to cover it," he murmured huskily, his eyes locked on your figure, "You look divine."

He took a step closer to you, his hands twitching at his sides as he ached to touch you.

Your heart skipped a beat, he thought you looked divine. That was the best compliment he’s ever given you. You smiled before you turned around and walked over to your bed, getting on it and laying in the middle of the mattress as you looked over at him, waiting for him to come closer and start touching you. Your hair pooled around the pillows as your dress rode up to your ankles, revealing your supple skin.

The room was covered in candles, a sweet aroma that added to the sensuality of the moment. Leon watched you lie down on the bed, his heart thudding in his chest at the sight of you on the soft mattress, looking like a goddess waiting to be worshipped.

His eyes drank in the sight of your bare skin, his gaze roaming up from your ankles, up to your dress, and then to your face. He swallowed hard, his control starting to slip as he slowly approached the bed. Each step was deliberate, his eyes darkened with a mixture of heat and need. As he reached the edge of the bed, he placed one knee on the mattress, towering above you.

Leon could see the mixture of nervousness and desire in your eyes, and he understood the trust you had in him. He took a moment to collect himself, his own emotions and desire threatening to overtake him.

His eyes roaming your body, taking in the sight of you laid out on the bed like a tempting offering. He swallowed hard, the need to touch you and claim you was almost overwhelming.

Slowly, he reached out and gently placed a hand on your shoulder, his fingers tracing a path down to your exposed skin, "You're beautiful," he whispered coarsely.

“Thank you, my lord,” you whispered softly and almost breathlessly. He’s never touched you like this. You’ve only ever held hands and kissed and that was yesterday. You hesitantly brought a hand over to him, your fingers ghostly hovering over his clothed chest as your eyes wandered on his chest. His shirt made it so that his muscles were a bit noticeable.

Your eyes then looked back up at his before they flicked down to his lips. You looked back at his blue eyes, noticing the dilated pupils almost obscuring the blue around it. Leon's breathing grew heavier as he felt your hand hovering over his chest, your touch like a ghost against his skin. He watched as your eyes darted down to his lips, and he couldn’t help but lick his lips in response.

“You can touch me,” he said gruffly, his voice low and hoarse, “I won't break.”

He reached down and gently grasped your wrist, guiding your hand onto his chest so you could feel the warmth and firmness of his muscles. He watched your expression closely, his own eyes darkened with need.

Your breath hitched for many reasons; his hand on your wrist, your palm against his warm chest, his reassurance—it all made you a bit breathless.

You pressed your hand on his chest, feeling the muscles through his shirt. Your eyes drifted down to his hand on your wrist, he made your wrist look so small with his big hand. It made your heart flutter.

You looked back up at him, your lips slightly parted as you touched him. Even if it was just his chest. Leon's heart raced as he felt your hand on his chest, pressing and feeling the muscles below his shirt. It was the softest touch, but it sent jolts of pleasure down his spine.

He tightened his grip on your wrist, the feeling of your slender, soft skin under his rough, calloused hand made his blood boil. He had to fight the urge to just tear the dress off of you and take you right there and then. Instead, he watched as you took in the feel of him, your touch lingering, and he clenched his jaw in an attempt to maintain control.

You brought my other hand to his cheek, your hand trailing down his neck before you also let it rest on his chest. Right as he held your wrist gently.

You looked up at him again, your doe eyes looking at him so innocently, “My lord…” you whispered quietly before your eyes fell back in his lips. Your nightdress sleeves slipped down your shoulders, exposing your collarbone as well as the top of your breasts but not entirely.

Your touch was both innocent and sensual, igniting a fire in Leon's core that he was struggling to control. He swallowed hard as he watched your sleeves slip down, revealing more of your creamy, supple skin, and his eyes darkened with growing desire.

"I'm no lord here, not to you," he responded gruffly, his voice hoarse with need, "Say my name."

Your stomach flipped when you heard his words and his tone. He sounded so needy and just for you. But what made you more flustered was that he wanted you to say his name.

No title at all. For the three months that you’ve been married, you’ve always called him by his title out of respect as he was initially rude to you. But now that things have changed, maybe you should start calling him by his first name.

“Leon,” you whispered softly, the name rolling off your tongue with ease. As if it felt right to say his name.

The sound of you whispering his name sent a shiver down Leon’s spine. It was a soft, shy whisper but to him, it sounded like music to his ears. He brought his other hand up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently brushing over your soft skin, "Again," he murmured, his voice thick with need, "Say it again."

You leaned into his hand as you looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, “Leon,” you repeated his name again.

Leon couldn’t stop the low groan that escaped him when you said his name again, his grip on your wrist unconsciously tightening at the sound. You spread your legs a bit so he could settle between your legs, causing your dress to slip up your knees to expose your calves. His grip on your wrist was firm but gentle and you moved your free hand to your night dress.

Your fingers undid the knot of your robe before you put your hand back on his chest, your dress opening to reveal your naked body to him. Your breasts looked soft and shiny from the candle lights. The skin looking so supple and creamy, almost like milk. His eyes darkened with hunger as he looked at your now exposed body, his breath hitching in his throat. You looked so soft, so creamy, so perfect, and the heat that pooled in his groin was almost unbearable. He let go of your wrist and brought his hand down to the opening of your robe, pushing it further down to reveal more of you to him. Laid out like a meal just for him to devour. Leon's breathing grew more ragged as he took in the sight of your bare body, his eyes slowly roaming over every inch of you as if he was trying to memorize each curve and detail.

He ached to touch you, to feel your soft, warm skin beneath his hands, but he held himself back, just taking in the sight for a moment.

“Gods, you are exquisite," he murmured hoarsely, his eyes darkened with desire and lust. He couldn't look away even if he tried, you looked like a vision in the candlelight.

You looked up at him. Your hesitant hands slowly rested back on his chest, your fingers resting along the strings that hung loose from his shirt. Leon's heart thundered in his chest as your hands moved back to his chest, your fingers gently playing with the strings of his shirt. The feeling of your touch sent sparks of heat through his body, and he had to remind himself to stay calm.

He reached up a hand and gently took a hold of yours, bringing it up to his lips and gently kissing each finger.

You watched attentively with parted lips as he brought your hand to his lips and kissed each finger, your breathing quickened and you felt myself grow hot. Such a sincere and innocent gesture made you want him more.

There was glint of something in my eyes, something you’ve never felt until now. Was it respect? Kindness? Affection? You didn’t know but you did know that you were starting to feel something heavier than want. Something that could only ever be read in books.

Leon's eyes met yours as you cup his face with your other hand, your gentle touch sending a jolt of electricity through his body. The look in your eyes was new to him, but it stirred something within him. Something more profound than mere want.

He continued to kiss your fingers, his lips ghosting over your knuckles, your palm, the inside of your wrist. He gently placed your palm against his cheek and leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment as he basked in the feel of your skin against him.

"You're so gentle," he murmured softly, his voice hoarse with an unnamed emotion.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you whispered back to his words. Leon's heart ached at your words, hearing the sincerity and affection in your voice. The way you held his face in your hands, so gently and softly, made something inside him stir.

He opened his eyes, looking back at you with an unreadable expression, his gaze intense and almost vulnerable.

"You won't hurt me," he assured you, his voice low, "And even if you do... I don't care," he reached up and gently placed his hand over one of yours, "I don't care as long as I'm with you like this."

Your heart swelled at his words, what you were eeling frightened you a bit. You didn’t know anything about what you were feeling right now.

You gently pulled his face down towards yours, your eyes glancing at his lips before you looked back at his eyes. Leon's breath hitched as you pulled his face down towards yours, and when he felt your soft, warm lips on his, something inside of him snapped. He gently but firmly brought his hands around your waist, pulling you close to him as he deepened the kiss.

He had intended to take things slow, but the feeling of your lips on his, the heat of your body against him, it was too much to resist.

He moved one hand up to cup the back of your neck, angling your head to kiss you more deeply, his tongue gently seeking entrance into your mouth. You gasped and opened your mouth, feeling his tongue dance with yours. Your hands fell from his face to his chest, resting there for a moment as you relished in the feeling of his lips and tongue. Savoring him, you didn’t care if he tasted like his dinner, you were tasting him and you felt him close. That was all that mattered to you.

You kissed him back, pushing your tongue inside his mouth. He was the oasis and you were a thirsty wanderer, you needed him and you didn’t realize how much until this moment.

He couldn't get enough of you. You were like a drug, intoxicating and addictive, and he wanted more. He groaned against your lips as you kissed him back, his hand moving further up your neck and tangling into your hair as he pulled you even closer to him, his body growing needy and greedy for you. Your hands gripped his shirt tightly, fisting the material as you held on to him. You didn’t want to let go. Your body was responding to him in a way you’ve never felt before.

Your hands were quick to lift his shirt up, breaking the kiss momentarily as you undressed him with gentleness. Leon's eyes darkened with desire as you lifted his shirt, exposing his toned, muscled chest to your gaze. He watched your eyes as they roamed over his scars, his breath catching in his throat as your fingers gently traced over them.

He could see the way you looked at him, with a mixture of awe and admiration, and it only made him want you more. He leaned down, his lips hovering above yours as he spoke in a deep, husky voice, "Touch me, touch me as if I am your only."

Your eyes drifted back up to look at his, his words stirring something deep in your gut, “You are,” you whispered back in a breathless voice. Your hands roamed around his torso, feeling each contour and dip from his muscles and scars.

Leon's heart quickened at your words, his body responding to your touch, your tenderness, your love. Every caress of your hands, every gentle touch, made him feel alive. He didn't know what to make of the feelings that were bubbling up inside him. He had married you out of obligation, but now, with your hands on him, it felt like so much more.

He took one of your hands in his and brought it up to his lips, gently kissing your knuckles before pressing it against his chest, over his heart, "Feel that?" he whispered.

Your hand was pressed against his chest, over his heart and you could feel how fast it was beating, a reflection of your own heart as well. You looked back up at him and nodded.

“I do,” you whispered back, his heart was beating fast, almost uncontrollably. It caused my breath to hitch and your words to cut short.

"It means you have mine," he said gruffly, his voice thick with emotion. "My heart. My soul. Everything that I am, it's yours."

He brought his hand up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently caressing your skin, "Only yours," he breathed, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your heart beat faster and you could feel yourself turn to mush. Your heart ached and your stomach flipped inside you at his words. He was yours, everything about him.

“Leon,” you whispered, staring at his eyes to try and look for signs of deceit but you could only find honesty. Leon could see the look in your eyes, the mix of surprise, disbelief, and awe, and it only served to make his own heart beat faster. He wasn't sure what had come over him, but the words had slipped out on their own. He looked at you for a moment, his eyes roaming over your face as if trying to commit every detail to memory.

"Say it back," he breathed, his voice hoarse and almost desperate, "Say you're mine," he needed to hear it, to know that he wasn't alone in his feelings.

“I’m yours,” you whispered as you looked at him, “My entire being,” uou continued, suddenly feeling the words spill out of you with no control.

“Let me have you for myself and myself only,” you whispered in an almost pleading tone, “let me be the only woman in your life.”

Your eyes were basically begging him to have you as his sole woman. You didn’t want him to have concubines, you wanted to be his only lady. Leon's heart clenched at your words, his breath catching in his throat. The desperation, the plea in your voice, it hit him hard. He knew he had been with other women before, it was expected from him, but the thought of having anyone else but you after tonight felt wrong, felt foreign.

"You are," he breathed, his voice thick with emotion as his hand moved from your cheek to the back of your head, "You are the only woman in my life. From this day forth, and every day after."

Your heart swelled and you could feel your eyes glaze over with nothing but love. That’s right. What you were feeling was love and it was overwhelming.

You crashed your lips against his, gripping his arms as you pulled his body down against yours until you were pressed together like mush. You kissed him deeply and passionately, pouring all your emotions into the kiss.

Leon groaned deeply as you pulled him down on top of you, feeling the heat of your body against his, the softness of your lips on his, it was all too much. He moved his hands down to your hips, gripping them tightly as he ground against you, his body responding to yours with a primal need. You gasped against his lips as you felt him ground against you, feeling his bulge through his trouser press against your bare core making me feel some type of way.

He kissed you back with equal fervor, his tongue delving into your mouth, tasting you and claiming you as his own. He wanted to feel all of you, to be inside you, to make you his. The thought of claiming you, of making you his completely, of filling you with his seed and making you carry his child, sent a shiver down his spine.

He ground against you again, his hips moving on their own, seeking friction and relief from the ache that was building up inside him.

"You want that," he breathed, his voice low and rough, "You want me to take you, make you mine?"

“I’m already yours,” you whispered breathlessly, feeling him ground against you again, your heat and wetness obviously showing how much you wanted him to take you.

You moved against him, grinding your hips against his bulge as you also felt a tight feeling that sought relief. It was an ache that was unfamiliar to you. The sound of your words and the feel of you moving against him made Leon's body ache for you. He growled as you ground your hips against him, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he returned your movements, pushing against you and causing a wave of pleasure to wash over him.

"You're so beautiful," he breathed, his eyes roaming over your naked body as he continued to move against you, "I never want to stop touching you."

You let out a quiet moan, feeling pleasure coursing through my veins like electricity, “Don’t stop,” you whispered. You closed your eyes and savored the feeling even if he was still wearing his trousers.

Leon let out a guttural moan, his breathing growing ragged as he continued to move against you, his body aching to be inside you, to be one with you. Your words were like a command and he knew he had to obey, he didn't want to stop, he didn't want to hold back. He never had, but now, the consequences would be different.

But he didn't care.

"I don't want to stop," he groaned, his hands moving to the waistband of his trousers, "I don't know if I can even if I tried."

Your eyes trailed down to his hand on the waistband of his trousers, watching as he started to fully undress himself and show you his bare form. He was like a drug you grew addicted to, you also don’t think you could stop even if you tried. Now, all you wanted was to be with him. To be his lady forever as you ruled over the kingdom as King and Queen.

“Me neither,” you whispered as you looked back up into his blue eyes. Leon was barely holding on to the last bit of control he had. Your words, your breathless voice, it was driving him to a frenzy.

He lowered himself down, his body resting against yours, his hardened length pressed against your wet core, the tip barely grazing your entrance. He groaned deeply at the feeling, his hips instinctively moving against you. You whimpered as he started to push his hard cock inside you, filling you when he hasn’t even started.

"You don't know what you do to me," he breathed, his face buried in your shoulder, "What you make me feel."

You let out a shaky breath as your arms wrapped around his shoulders, your nails gently clawing at his back. Leon groaned as he entered you, the tightness and warmth of your body was unlike anything he had ever felt before. It was ecstasy and heaven all in one. He lifted his face from your shoulder and looked down at you, his eyes full of love and desire.

"You feel so good," he breathed, his voice hoarse, "So tight, so perfect."

He began to move slowly, his hips rocking against yours, his hands caressing your body, his lips leaving a trail of kisses on your neck and chest.

As he started to move inside you, slowly thrusting into you, you rolled your head back against the pillows and closed your eyes as you relished in the waves of pleasure crashing over you. His hips rocked slowly but you could feel so well, you had finally become one.

You could only moan softly in his ear, savoring him and holding him close to you. Leon continued to move inside you, his pace steady and slow, wanting to make this moment last as long as possible. He could feel his heart slamming against his chest, his breathing coming out in ragged gasps. He needed more, he needed all of you.

He lifted himself up, resting on his forearms, and looked down at you, "Look at me," he breathed, "I want to see your face."

You opened your eyes and looked up at him as he moved deep inside you, your lips parted and your cheeks flushed as you moaned and gasped breathlessly. As he lifted himself up, your hands fell down from his back and laid on either side of your head.

The tempo was slow but sensual, wanting to make this moment last longer. The sounds we made echoed through the room. You arched your back as he started to move faster, slowly starting to feel his hips slam against your, the sound of skin clapping echoing in your mind. Leon continued his pace as he watched you unravel beneath him. The sounds of your moans and gasps, the way your body trembled and clenched around him, it was all too much.

Your moans became short and breathy, an indication of how much he was taking you to the edge as well. You rolled your eyes back and gasped quietly, you couldn’t hold much longer. The faster and harder he went, the harder it was to hold back. He could feel himself on the edge of release, his body taut and his muscles coiled, ready to explode.

You looked up at him, making sure he was seeing your face as you were so close to coming. Your body started to tremble slowly at each thrust. You panted heavily as your hands gripped the bedsheets under you and before you knew it, you looked at him, eyes full of bliss and pleasure as you let go and felt yourself spasm and clench around him, finally coming on him.

As he watched you come undone, he felt himself falling over the edge as well. His hips moved frantically, his body taking over as he chased his own release.

You let out whimpers as he started to move frantically, thrusting against you like an animal in heat and desperate for release. He let out a guttural moan as he found his own pleasure, his body tensing and shuddering as he found release inside you.

He snapped his hips against you before he spilled his seed deep inside you, coating your walls white with his cum. You were left panting and sweaty, your body suddenly feeling tired from the intimate activities so you closed your eyes and tried to catch your breath. Leon breathed heavily as he collapsed on top of you, his body damp with sweat and his heart racing. He was exhausted, physically and emotionally.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, letting your familiar fragrance fill his senses. He knew what he had just done, the thought of seeing you grow round and heavy with his child filled him with a sense of joy and possessiveness.

Your breathing has settled down and you slowly started to succumb to sleep, feeling your body grow exhausted and limp. As he remained on top of you, your head moved to the side, seemingly asleep as your body was so tired.

Never once would you have thought that you’d share a night like this. Previously, he was cold, harsh, and rude to you. You almost believed he’d never even hold your hand. And yet something in him changed and here you are.

He knew he had been harsh and cold with you in the beginning, but he had to be. It was to maintain a certain image, a facade. But as time passed, he realized that he was falling for you.

He gently pulled himself off of you, careful not to wake you, and then laid down beside you. He pulled the covers over the both of you and wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as he, too, allowed himself to drift off to sleep.

[eir-trixa]

WOTTG SPOILERS AFTER THE CUT

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.

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Can you believe Rick is validating me in my Percy-is-the-most-empathic-character take? I have legal basis but boi does it feel nice to have canon confirmation.

Second that book was short af I got the gist of it all while reading for like an hour.

Third, we addressed everyone else’s trauma. Percy’s still the group therapist LMAO 😭😭😭

Fourth, my son is such a good kid yall, this is why I lose five years of my life when someone insults or when he insults himself jfc my child.

Im honestly still processing and I have to reread the ending. Did it address Percy’s issues? Im going to go with “a bit” and call it a night. I mean, I guess it did? Percy got to unload and help Gale and Hecuba. We got an insight to how he’s managing to stay up and fighting and good despite all the shit he’s put into. Honestly the fact that he saw the humanity in Gale and Hecuba, that he saw their pain and grief and thats what made them trust him, that is so good. And the way he related to them. Goodness. And it highlights again how good a person he is, how much he feels and cares. I mean, he cried cause he had to send Mrs O Leary away, I cant with this kid-

I supposed what Im left unsatisfied with is how he still perceives himself as dumb? Baby, you survived San Fran for two months as a homeless kid without memories and pursued by different monsters who cant die. Youre the furthest thing from dumb.

He cant see this of course and while it was slightly addressed(?) by Annabeth telling him to his face that she doesnt give him enough credit, that he’s pretty smart, I dont think thats enough for addressing this particular issue. There was a time in the middle that he almost snapped because he thought Annabeth probably thinks him too dumb to know what to do next. Which I understand is frustrating to him. But to be fair this book made him look at Annabeth for a solution a lot. Theres also little comments about how when he cant think of anything - which is every 60 seconds apparently according to him- he looks at Annabeth. This doesnt help the co dependent allegations LMAO. Idk, I will die on the Hill that Percy is one of the smartest people in the series, not just emotionally but also in strategy. And theres, of course, nothing wrong with looking at the genius strategist for answers. Ive mixed feelings because definitely this is more of a Percy-insecurity issue than an Annabeth-being-bossy issue. But okay. One more book, heres to hoping we get more heart to heart on that front because Im 999998% sure she doesnt mean to make him feel stupid, Percy’s just got a lot of demons to fight but this in particular they need to figure out together. Still, its obvious how much they care for each other still. If only Dave and Hana did not piss me off at the start Id probably be a little more lenient about this.

Annabeth’s fatal flaw also makes a comeback, we love to see it.

And Sally Estelle Jackson. Now we have to find out wth is Percy’s middle name cause if Sally has one odds are she gave her son too. Trust me. Im Filipino. Iykyk.

Lastly, while I will forever and ever and ever support the trio from pjotv (theyre perfect and have done nothing wrong ever) I can see Rick’s injecting their personalities into the books. Im not sure if he does this on purpose or just subconsciously LMAO. Some of Grover’s dialogue is definitely inspired by Aryan. Percy being Lanky? Walker through and through, especially with his growth spurt lmao, and Annabeth’s confidence? All Leah. I can see what Rick’s trying to do. Ive no opinion on this, just pointing it out. I do love love love the live action. Just. I can see you Rick. You aint slick.

So there. I probably would need to reread the book properly at some point.

[lethalhades]

The sins of one were the sins of all

(Honestly I wrote this because my girl just needs a fucking hug and IM TIRED😭🙏🏾)

Themes: jinx x fem reader, hurt and comfort, we braiding her hair twin.

Didn’t proof read this or nothing I just cooked.

Navigating the dim, twisting pathways of the underground wasn’t how you planned to spend your day, but finding Jinx was all that mattered now. As you searched, a place suddenly came to mind. a spot she’d likely retreat to, a familiar hideaway.

Without hesitation, you picked up the pace, heading straight for the Last Drop and slipping in through the back door.

Your footsteps reverberated off the walls as you climbed the narrow staircase toward Silco’s office. In the past, just approaching this door would have made your skin crawl, the weight of his presence heavy and unsettling. But now… that feeling was gone, vanished with him the night he was killed.

All that remained was an empty silence behind the door, where his shadow used to linger.

Your fingertips lightly grazed the door before you pushed it open, the creak echoing in the empty room, confirming what you already suspected…Silco’s office was vacant.

You’d hoped to find Jinx here, but a part of you knew it was a long shot. Still, as you stepped inside, your eyes fell on the desk, where a map lay scattered with Jinx’s chaotic scribbles, a sign she’d been here recently.

Almost on instinct, you reached for the map, lifting it carefully with both hands, including the hexcore-tainted one. You usually kept it hidden beneath your cloak, the sight of it stirring a mix of frustration and shame. Someday, you knew, you’d have to accept it. but for now, it stayed mostly in shadow, a reminder of what you’d become.

“This is the first time I’ve seen your hand in years.” The voice jolted you, and before you knew it, you’d hurled a dagger in her direction, missing the blue-haired woman by barely an inch.

Catching your breath, you glared. “I’ve been searching everywhere for you, and now you decide to show up?” Annoyance laced your words. She slid smoothly off the beam, landing on the desk. That’s when you noticed her long hair was loose, spilling over her shoulders and onto the desk—no braids, just a cascade of untamed blue.

She caught you staring and raised an eyebrow. “I was trying to braid it back, but… Silco always did that for me.” Her raspy voice betrayed no hint of vulnerability; it was like a wall she always kept up around you.

You hesitated, almost tempted to ask why she kept her walls up in the first place, but you knew better than to press her boundaries.

Jinx stared at the ground, her eyes shadowed and distant, tracking your movements as you stepped behind the desk and eased into the old, creaking chair. When your fingers brushed her hair, she flinched, jerking back just slightly. You couldn’t help but wonder if, beneath that tough exterior, she was still afraid.

You’d known each other since she went by “Powder,” before the undercity had forced both of you to grow hard and cold.

You’d come to Zaun after being cast out of Piltover, your family’s sins leaving you no choice. You weren’t like them, but in Piltover, the sins of one were the sins of all. Survival in the undercity was brutal, especially for a kid, and you still remembered how close you’d come to losing your life again and again.

But then, like a spark in the dark, she had come barreling into your life. small but fierce, her blue hair a shock of color in the dim streets. Powder, a kid with more guts than anyone you’d ever known. And on that night, she’d been your savior. A little bomb in her hand, tossed without hesitation, scattering the men who meant to hurt you.

That tiny blast had done more than drive them off. it had bound you and Powder together, two lost souls in the chaos of Zaun.

Back then, she was just another lost kid who had found purpose under Silco’s wing. The pain in her eyes had been unmistakable, a pain you recognized all too well. It was the same haunted look your mother had worn the day she brought ruin upon your family.

If you were being honest with yourself, you’d only decided to toughen up that day because you couldn’t stand the idea of being outdone by someone younger, someone with less to lose. She was three years your junior, but her boldness had sparked something in you, forcing you to swallow your fear and find strength you didn’t know you had. Unlike her, though, you’d never bent the knee to some ruthless leader. You carved your own path, becoming a gun for hire, bound to nothing and no one.

Over the years, you’d killed without hesitation, Piltover elites and undercity rogues alike. Survival demanded sacrifice, and you were willing to make it.

Every now and then, your paths would cross, and you’d catch glimpses of the girl who once called herself “Powder,” now transformed into Silco’s weapon. Meanwhile, you had grown too, honing your skills and eventually joining the Firelights, giving your life a new sense of direction.

Now, with the undercity on the brink, chaos breaking loose at every turn, you looked up from your thoughts to find jinx’s back facing you, her head slightly turned seeing her violet eyes sharp and curious. “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice carrying an edge of suspicion.

“Braiding your hair, if you’d just sit still,” you replied, fingers deftly weaving through her loose blue strands. Her hair, soft but tangled, For a moment, she held still. watching you work with an expression you couldn’t quite read, letting you bring order to just one small piece of her wildness. You were lucky you still had some skill in this, after all the times you’d braided the younger kids’ hair back in the Firelights’ hideout. Your hands knew how to be gentle, even if the rest of you had learned to be anything but.

As you worked, Jinx’s voice broke the silence. “Every day, he had me making something for him. Or doing that stupid eye thing of his, even though he could’ve done it himself,” she muttered, bitterness edging her words as she thought about all the things she’d done for Silco.

You could see the weight of his lies on her, the way they’d sunk deep. She’d believed him completely—why wouldn’t she?

“My mother expected perfection from me,” you said softly, finding a rare thread of common ground. “One slip, one failure, and I was nothing but a disappointment to her.” For a moment, it felt like you and Jinx were standing on the same edge, each of you marked by different scars but both shaped by people who’d held you to impossible standards.

Both of you had been praised for your minds, raised to rise above, only to lose it all. And when you needed someone most, they had all turned away.

“You were just some Piltover rat. You don’t know a damn thing about what it takes to survive down here.”

You met her gaze, the old anger simmering beneath your words. “I know more than you think,” you replied, voice steady and unyielding. “I lost everything before I even got the chance to hold it,” you added, memories of that day, of watching your family fall apart, still as raw as ever.

Jinx scoffed, crossing her arms. “Why are you telling me this? You think I care?”

“No,” you said, fingers deftly weaving the last of her braids. “But I thought you’d understand.” You secured her signature pigtails, then took a step back, crossing your arms as you faced her. “You followed him because you had nowhere else to turn, no one else to show you the way. But he’s gone now, Jinx. And yet, you’re still clinging to his ghost, acting like he’s still here.”

She bristled, eyes flashing. “I’m not mourning him! That’s the last thing I’d ever do for him.”

“Then prove it,” you challenged, voice calm but firm. “Find something real to fight for. Not for a man who only wanted control and used your loyalty to his advantage.”

Jinx took a step forward, her violet eyes sharp and angry as she glared up at you, defiance sparking between you like a fuse ready to ignite. You held her gaze, searching for the truth hidden beneath her rage. In those eyes, you saw things she would never say aloud.

confusion, anger, the scars of betrayal.

It reminded you of that night at the Last Drop, the night you’d tried to pull her away from Silco’s grip and convince her to join the Firelights. She’d laughed it off, but you’d seen the hesitation, the crack in her armor. That night, things nearly went south between you. one wrong word, and a bullet could’ve ended it all. Now, standing here again, that same tension lingered in the air, fragile and sharp, like the calm before a storm.

“Why do you keep acting like you know me?” Jinx’s voice was sharp, bitter, violet blue eyes wild with frustration as she shoved you. “Like you have any clue what I’ve been through!” She pushed you again, harder this time, her finger jabbing into your chest. “You don’t know anything!”

Her anger flared, and she kept pushing, shoving you back again and again until you finally reached out and caught her wrist.

She tried to pull away, struggling against your hold, but you pulled her closer, wrapping your arms around her, holding her tightly. Her fists came down hard on your back, each punch sharp with anger and pain. It hurt, but you didn’t let go, not even as her punches weakened, not even as her shoulders slumped against you.

The room grew quiet, save for the small, choked sobs that broke free as she stopped fighting and finally gave in. Her fingers gripped the back of your cloak, holding on like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.

Her cries were raw, almost hollow, filled with a pain you knew she rarely allowed herself to show.

You just held her, steady and silent, giving her the space to release what she’d been holding back. You didn’t hate her, not for her choices, not for her mistakes. Somehow, despite everything, all you’d ever wanted was to help her find her way back from the darkness.

As her breathing slowed, she didn’t say a word, but her quiet acceptance in your arms told you everything. In that fragile silence, you knew that, at least for this moment.

you were exactly where you needed to be.

[lovebvni]

" ITS BRUTAL OUT HERE " - pick a pile

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│ᵒᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵉˢˢᵃᵍᵉ...

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[ 🖊 ] created ⋮ 14.8.22

[  ] published ⋮  14.8.22

˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ ꒰ ⌨ ✰ Arsyn   ⋆  ⁱˢ ᵗʸᵖⁱⁿᵍ··· ꒱ | ೃ࿔₊•

┊       ⋆     welcome to my blog !

┊     °

hey loves, so because i 1, got new tarot decks, and 2 want to call you guys out, im doing this. also - heads up before i even start - spirit said there's gonna be a pile where there are little/no callouts bc they're actually doing great. just some advice/motivation to keep them going

Hello! Welcome to a pick a pile. This is a general reading, everything should be taken with a grain of salt. Hundreds of people may read this, everything I say in your pile(s) may NOT resonate. Today we don't have questions. we're just going callouts. so prepare yourself, i know some of yall are soft.

along with these questions i will give things that may draw you to your pile. the alice in wonderland tarot has different cards but pretty much the same meaning. dont be shocked if instead of the hanged man i say suspention or something like that. i will be using tarot and oracle cards.

now please take everything with a grain of salt!

breathe in, now out, now pick a pile or two.

pile 1 ; pile 2 ; pile 3

hi pile 1!

confirmation for your pile: lowkey funny, life 'falling apart', consequences for your actions, business man/woman, equality, cycles, bakugou, passion, 'im always right, i know what im saying'

oracle: you are good enough - full moon in virgo

tarot: the hierophant, temptation, 7 of flowers, 5 of spears reversed, 9 of flowers

alright bros, the first thing i have to say is 1, you're not always the cause. bad things happen to good people and i know it sucks but it helps you grow. if only good things happened then you'd probably be boring as hell. i hear some of you guys can be because you cant keep a conversation going. the thing is, you may be a victim MOST OF THE TIME but that doesnt mean ALL THE TIME!! you can be wrong in an argument, you can be right in an argument. but it changes. you're a very driven, smart, confident person in most areas but that doesnt mean because you're the right person to be a firefighter but not a baker. 7 of flowers is saying dont back down from the things you KNOW you are right in, but when someone makes a valid point. take it, it can help you. being passionate is a good thing, but dont be ignorant.

temptation is something thats drawing you in, that one day will be negative. maybe its joining the football team but you'll get a serious injury. do not let anyone or anything tempt you that has high risks for pain in the long run. im not saying dont join that football team, but dont put yourself into situations that wont benifit you in the long run. there's a good and bad to everything. do not fall into or back into negative energies/things that didnt help you before. they sure as hell wont help you now

ngl i have no idea what this pile means during the second part

pile 2

alright so confirmation: tired, faking happiness, evolution, "PUT THOSE GRIPPERS AWAY", hawks, manifestation, abuse, Christmas, MHA, movies, memories, nsfw content, love desire, caring heart, makeup, procrastination, seven deadly sins

oracle: a time for healing - balsamic moon, expect powerful chance - new moon eclipse

tarot: 10 of spears, 7 of flowers, 3 of hedgehogs

so this is the pile whos done mostly nothing wrong. when i say mostly, i mean bc everyones made at least one mistake in their life. ofc theres still a callout. STOP BEATING YOURSELF UP! STOP BELITTLING YOUR PAIN, YOUR TRAUMA, THE THINGS THAT HURT YOU MENTALLY AND PHYSICALLY EVERY SINGLE DAY!! let go of the past, its gone. its ending. get over it. that friend isnt coming back, they weren't right for you. let go of the past, accept it, and move forward. thats just some advice.

pile 3

hey pile 3

confirmation: false/negative manifestations, intrusive thoughts, self destructive behavior, gay, peaches (that one song omg), yung gravy, emotions, love, communication or lack of communication, birthdays, parties, celebrations

oracle: believe in the impossible - blue moon

tarot: 2 of cups, 4 of flowers, knight of teacups reversed

okay i got flowers in every pile, anyways this piles energy is of a pair.. two people or two piles? maybe you picked another pile. but its a harmonious pair. you guys may be for a long time, maybe shifting together, maybe you work on a lot of projects together? i heard you guys dont talk much but when you do its fun. you guys are a great pair. hold on to each other. i feel like once this pile overcomes toxic/negative behaviors they will shift. it depends on how fast you get rid of them/start manifesting positively.

change the way you see things, the emotions and reactions you have to things that happen. if you wake up in your cr and not your dr say something like "bro what?? why am i in my cr? thats odd, hasnt been like this before." see everything that happens in a different light. if you think that you saw something that was a sign btw, it was. take it and use it how you think its fit. use your talents, you know you can! practice the fun things you want to do one day. practive makes perfect!! get off your ass and do something. vent through an art form. you dont have to use words. you're doing nothing right now. you NEED to do something, but take a break from stressing yourself. its not helping anything

[lokorum]

what would you say is your favorite jonmichael fic..... im very curious and love to reread anything in that tag

oh but how can i pick only one when they all are so good??? (,,•᷄‎ࡇ•᷅ ,,)?

aaaaaa can i make the several honorable mentions of the fics that made me scream and roll on the floor?????? pretty please???

scheherazade was one of the first jonmichael fics that i found while going through all of the cher's works because, evidently, they have no fics that are not worth reading!! (i'm sorry if and forty feet down only confirming it!!!)

sleep inertia has one of the best dialogues i ever read!!! the way cruelzy writes michael's lines??? aaaaaaaaa its so delicious and believable and never for a second i thought i'm reading something out of canon?? its just that good. 

carousel is the only one fic (from what i found) that i set in the last season and its adds a lot of layers to that big jonmichael onion that torments my eyes for a while now ldkfjgkdfjg also it's messy?? i mean the whole situation in the fic?? its so humanly complicated and it does not gives you the chance to experience any of the feelings clearly and i love it!! screechfox somehow captured all of the complicated stuff in one fic, blendered it together and for the whole time i just couldn't take my eyes away from it. 

five times michael saves jon's life and one time he doesn't have to - is here to sooth our pain and heal our wounds. i reread it so many times!! the dynamic between jon and michael in it is one to live for!!! sometimes you think 5+1 kind of fics can't surprise you anymore and then the coolest author like paisleycowboys enters the room and proves you wrong. 

to be like super honest, the 100 ways to say i love you series, when i first saw it, made me think im not gonna like it? i love my fanfics long and scary and bittersweet and with a bad-very-not-good-endings, so the title of this one made me go "hmmmmm HMMMMM hmmmmm hmmmm?" but ive started to read it anyway, theres not that many fics on the ao3 for jonmichael, we cant afford to be capricious and gosh GOSH i was so fucking wrong!!! its sweet AND sad AND scary AND awkward (in a best way!!!) AND it made me giggle so many times!!! NeedsCaffeineRightNow can make even the edgiest of us enjoy the soft kinds of fics (its not hard when they are written with so much care and love.)

POSSESSIVE!! MICHAEL!! COMBING!!! JON'S!! HAIR!!!!!! what else do we need from life?

transition, every time i reread it or think about it, makes me painfully aware of how many things should coincide for something to work. it's not one of those fics that completely encompass you; nor its the one that leaves you with new headcanons or in a good mood, no, i think it's the one that leaves you in dissoray, making you want to argue with author, to ask them what were they thinking about, pointing on your weak sides like this?, giving you something precious and then stealing it away? pushing your old bruises? that is to say, i have nothing but deep respect for indefensibleselfindulgence. to write fic that makes you want to engage in conversation? thats powerful 

Our 'Angel' of Static and Bone is written so inexplicably good, that more than once i wondered, how NeverwinterThistle was able to do it? and then i realised they are one of my fave bg3 and dishonored authors phpphp but really, the care, the effort that went into this fic? they are literally visible! you can feel the amount of time and brain juice that went into writing it. and the neighbor character? they appeared like two times?? and still their addition left me speechless with how clever it is, how different!! absolutely amazing work.

adjective noun has jonmichael chapter (11) that destroyed me as a person i swear i laughed so hard i dropped my phone and just kept giggling face-into-the-pillow style!!!!!! its rare for the fics to bring you this childish kind of pure joy; the little in-between moment of forgetting about everything, good and bad, and just have a good time. this chapter is definitely one of those rare things and it also made me wish there would be more jonmichael fics from cuttoth. somehow they nailed everything that should be nailed about this ship and did it in a couple of pages, what a magical work!! 

and well, now here's my fave fic, the one that took my head, shaked it like it's a soda can, and then left it open, fountaining at first and then dented and empty. 

I ask for nothing, but maybe I'm lying is the work that made me grateful for the fact that i know how to read in english. its....mmmm, you know that feeling when fic makes you go through literally everything? and then, as a bonus, through all stages of grief as well?

first you get hooked up by the beautiful writing style and so you know the fic is gonna be good and you get comfortable and you turn yourself off from the rest of the world and you read. 

you love pov, you love mood shifts, you love pacing, you love when scenes are short and you pause to think about what happened / you love when scenes are long and you get overloaded with the simple things that make you feel complicated emotions, you love it all. 

then you start to wish it would never finish; you look at the scrolling bar from time to time, a little bit too aware of how much there's left to read, a little bit too anxious about it. and at the same time, the fic starts to make you feel safe, confident, that at least it's gonna be alright, its gonna be that one work that will replace the canon events for you. it was the

“Oh. Oh, Archivist, no. That’s not right at all,” you say to yourself as you watch him march into artefact storage, both hands clamped around an axe. 

On a whim, you decide to save him."

line for me for sure uhhh it still hits as good as the first time too 

and then you get to the ending and you just stare at the screen. that hollowing feeling slowly spreading inside you. *sigh* its the best sort of inspiration im sure, but its the worse one too. i have no idea how possessedradios and authors like them are able to write something that kills you, then reanimates you and then makes you sit in front of the tablet drawing hours non stop. ''I ask for nothing, but maybe I'm lying" is so beautiful its scares and fascinates me, just like the podcast did. hell, better then the podcast did.  i know its silly but i even named my fisrt fanart of michael as the title of the fic 👉👈

ahhhh SO i rumbled again SORRY!!!!!!! every time someone asks something from me its either "i'll reply later" (replies 10 years after) or "tolstoy, hold my fucking beer". but i really hope that fic writers, not only those who are mentioned here but like in general? know how much they affect other people!! how their work creates safe spaces for others!! how they make readers smile or cry, even if those readers (im not pointing finger on myself idk what you talking about pgphpphph) are little gremlins that leaving comments once in a decade....................

have fun time reading!! <3

btw im working on a little fanart rn............. (expressing my deepest grattitude to ao3 johmichael writers 😳🔪)

[lucysgraybird]

Erm i js read ur pregnancy fic, is it possible for u to write an alternative version yk a happy one ??? 😭 it was rlly good tho but that hurttt

YES babe ofc im so sorry 🙏 i saw angst and it got away from me. sorry for losing my head. here is an alternate ending to this fic

warnings: labour/childbirth, blood mention, deeply unrealistic (should've put this on the other one too! i am an 18 year old virgin i know where babies come from and that's it)

The night the baby comes is dark and peaceful: there hasn't been more than a soft fall of rain in weeks, and the spring has brought balmy evenings that have made chores almost a gift to do.

Even more of a blessing is the time after chores, curled up on the porch under Billy’s arm. He's twisting the ends of your hair around his fingers absently, and you twist to look up at his face.

“What's on your mind, honey?”

“Hm?”

“I can hear your thoughts from here, Billy. Are you worrying about something?”

He tucks his chin over your head and you hum contentedly at being wrapped up in him, safe and warm.

“Just thinkin’ about the baby is all,” he says. “What we're gonna name her and that stuff.”

You laugh. “I bet it'll come to us in the moment. We don't even know if the baby’s a girl.”

“I do.” He slides his arm off your shoulder to your waist, placing his hand flat against your rounded belly. “Gonna be the best little girl, and she's gonna look just like her mama.”

"Mm...with your eyes, if we're lucky."

You crane your neck to peck Billy on the lips, coaxing a smile from your husband. Out of nowhere, a cramp twists through your lower back and you cover Billy’s hand with yours, wincing. He shifts you off his chest slightly to look at you.

“You okay?”

The pain passes and you can breathe again – it's not something you've felt before, but you know things get weirder the bigger the baby gets.

“Fine, yeah. I think she was moving around or something.”

Billy gives your stomach a firm look, which coaxes a laugh out of you and chases away your nerves.

“‘s not the baby’s fault, honey,” you say. “She's just getting comfy.”

“You're sure you're alright?” He confirms. “I can ride into town and-”

“I'm good. You don't need to worry, okay?”

He nods and pulls you back against him, his body a shelter from any worries.

As the night creeps on, there are a few more cramps but nothing notable, and you're able to fall asleep almost immediately when the time comes.

That is, until the middle of the night, when you wake up with your entire core on fire.

“Billy,” you whimper, grabbing for his arm.

He groans, still mostly asleep.

“The baby’s coming, Billy, you gotta-” You pause, a bolt of pain too great to speak through wracking your body for a moment. “You gotta go get the doctor.”

That wakes him immediately, and he's rolling out of bed before his eyes are even completely open. He takes in your face, screwed tight and shiny with sweat, and he's trying to get ready and comfort you at the same time.

“It's okay, darlin’, you're gonna be okay,” he says, not even bothering to take off his pajamas before tugging his work clothes over them and shoving his feet into his boots. “I’m gonna get the midwife and she'll take care of you.”

For all his confident words, his voice trembles and breaks at the end of his sentence from seeing you in this much hurt, which sends tears spilling down your cheeks. Billy scrambles for the door, then back to you to press a kiss to your forehead and a hand to your cheek.

“Gonna be fine, darlin'. I'll be back as quick as I can.”

You don't even have time to reply before he's out the door and gone.

The pain only increases while he's gone, time going hazy and strange. You can't figure out how long ago Billy left, or how long it should be until he's back – you can't really think of much besides the ache throbbing from your pelvis to your chest. Noises that don't sound like your own are tearing themselves from your throat as you writhe in bed, trying to find anything that'll ease the pain.

Soon (or maybe not soon at all, you can't say), Billy is bursting back into your room, the midwife hot on his tail. She takes one look at you and turns to Billy.

“I need boiling water and strips of cloth.”

Billy nods wordlessly and disappears out to the kitchen. You didn't realize how desperate you were for him until he was gone, and a new bout of sobs streak down your face.

“Oh, lovey,” the midwife says as she strips back your covers. “Your boy will be back soon, he's just helping me keep you safe while you're in labour. Can you tell me how far you are along?”

She tugs your nightgown up around your hips, and you're in too much pain to feel any shame.

“Baby’s right on time,” you groan. “Just about nine months.”

Your body bows forward with another stab just as Billy walks through the door with a steaming pot of water and strips of a clean sheet, and he nearly drops everything in his haste to get to you. Once he's sure that the midwife has what she needs, he's settling next to you, offering a hand to squeeze and a shoulder to lean on.

“You may want to step out, Mr. Bonney, this-”

“I'm stayin’,” he says, surely putting on a brave face when you grip his hand like a vice. To you, he soothes, “Hold on as hard as you need, darlin’, you're not gonna hurt me.”

“Okay then,” the midwife says. “Get ready to push, lovey, this baby is just about to come out.”

You don't even have to think when the time comes, a baser instinct taking over for you. It hurts like nothing has before and a wail chokes out of your mouth. Billy is still holding you, whispering sweet nothings that you can't quite hear against your temple. His lips are dry on the skin there, and it's grounding in the sea of sticky and hot that you're swimming in.

Suddenly, the pressure in your pelvis changes, but the pain doesn't. Everything is so wet. What is that?

“I'm going to insist you step back now, Mr. Bonney,” the midwife says.

You look up at your husband, whose skin is ash-white against his dark hair.

“Billy…?”

"You're okay, darlin', I'm just gonna let the midwife take care of you." His voice is shaking in a way that makes you nauseated, and the world is swimming around you on top of that.

He goes to step away, just as the midwife requested, and heartbreak rips across his face when you reach out for him. Then there's another gush of wetness and a dizzying wash of pain: the last thing you see before you pass out is the form of a baby in Billy’s arms and the most genuine fear you've ever seen on his face.

When you wake, it's just Billy in the room, cradling a bundle of blankets in a chair he's dragged to the bedside. He's up as soon as you wake, trying to smooth a hand over your head and hold the baby properly at the same time.

“Hey, darlin’, how are you feeling?”

You try to sit up and immediately throw in the towel, groaning. “Tired. And sore. Is the baby okay? What happened?”

“Baby’s just fine,” he says, tilting the bundle to show you a wrinkled, sleeping little face. “The midwife says she's the healthiest baby she's seen in a while.”

A soft smile blooms on your face. There's a relief warming you from the inside-out that you've never felt before.

“You were right about the baby being a girl, then.”

“Mhm.” There's a teasing pride in his hum, and you use a little of your waning energy to nudge his shoulder with your head. “I haven't thought of a name yet, though.”

“Can I hold her?”

Billy hands her to you wordlessly, helping you settle your arms around her.

“She's so small.”

“And she's already caused a lot of trouble for her mama,” Billy says.

He's joking, but when you look up at him, there are tears in his eyes.

“Honey, are you-”

“I'm okay, I'm okay. It was just a lot of blood, and I didn't know what was goin’ on. I thought you…”

The sentence ends there, but you know where he was going, and you lean into him.

“Can't get rid of me that easy, cowboy. We got a little girl to raise.”

The baby stirs a little in your arms, then settles back into a deep sleep. You watch her thoughtfully.

“Billy,” you say.

“Yes, darlin’?”

“How would you feel about naming her Kathleen? After your mother?”

There's dead silence for a moment before Billy presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“I think that's perfect,” he whispers, not trusting his voice to go any louder without breaking. “If that's what you want.”

“It is. Welcome to the world, Kathleen Bonney,” you say, and Billy wraps an arm around you. It is a perfect tableau: mother, father, and baby, and all the love there is in the world.

[rosenotactuallyquartz]

Here is a question. As a pearlrose shipper, what do you make of Rose's objects stored in Lion? It makes me a bit sad because we don't see anything that's clearly about Pearl there. You have Greg's shirt and portraits, but no mementos of Pearl's. I mean, there is the flag, but Steven gives it to Bismuth, so I don't know if it was meant to be Pearl's.

why isn’t there anything about pearl in lion’s mane?

there actually might be. and if there isn’t, that’s alright.

i had to really look into pearl and rose’s individual characters & their history, but here are the possible situations that explain why we see nothing related to pearl in lion’s mane.

theory 1: “what am i going to do when she disappears?”

what im about to talk about would be quite in character for pearl, i think. in this scenario, rose did have some more obvious artifacts from pearl in lion’s mane.

remember this memory ?

“it’s rose. what was she thinking? she can’t have a baby! what am i going to do when she disappears? i’m going to lose her!” — pearl, a single pale rose

throughout the entirety of rose’s pregnancy, pearl knew she’d die—that’s been confirmed, at least. and this decision made pearl especially insecure about rose’s love for her. she was wary of greg at first, using the word favourite, but then we hear it’s over, isn’t it and she talks about her death while saying she chose you. but gems just love. they don’t label things like open, exclusive, polyamory, monogamy. pearl was alright with the meaningless human flings rose had, likely with this understanding that if she wanted to do the same, it’s okay, too.

(but mind you, pearl’s cleverness, tendency to be observant and focus on small details, & interests likely led her to finding out lots of not-so-great things about human society, while rose’s love for new experiences, naivety, and tendency to always see the beauty in things made her more attracted to human social life than pearl. but pearl was still fine with that, remaining quite protective, confident, & happy with her love life and personal relationships. it took longer for pearl to really warm up to humans, and then she made some friends, but this took until she got to know steven. she and rose always wanted to protect them from danger no matter what, because they loved earth and humanity but felt differently about human activities/socializing)

given that they lived comfortably together for 6000 years, this was great. but then, greg comes in, and he’s unfamiliar. he actually had something called decency unlike rose’s other human bonds, because it looks like said humans never asked rose if they could have a conversation, never asked more about the ultimate connection between gems, and quite frankly, given that rose was confused when greg explained that they (a human & a gem) were supposed to respect each other, i highly doubt these other humans even came close to respecting rose! forgive me, i have issues with these unknown humans, for some reason. they were more than some meaningless fling, so that made pearl worry about things like favourites. because really, this sort of bond was new and confusing for them. also, rose’s eyes always look quite sad, but in greg the babysitter, when she’s explaining how humans grow but she stays the same forever, her eyes seem to have more noticeable sadness. i think by this point, rose became more withdrawn. that, paired with greg giving her a sense of comfort and escapism from her pain made pearl start to really interpret this as, greg is her favourite. then, rose gets pregnant. this is when things become the most tense: it goes from favourite to choosing. pearl saw this as rose choosing greg over her. dying to have a child instead of living with pearl forever.

however, nine months feel very short for gems. and obviously, pearl wanted to spend as much time with rose as she could. rose getting cravings is probably why pearl is canonically very good at making pie (although i’m sure rose loved to eat the things pearl baked long before her pregnancy, so that’s why pearl makes food for steven, and that’s why she has generally a good & comforting feeling about baking pie). as pearl spent lots of time with rose, she couldn’t hide this pain, wondering how much she truly meant to rose. pearl is a passionate person already, and she was dealing with anticipatory grief on top of this. whether or not she tried to hide these feelings, rose knew at one point.

they couldn’t have proper closure, as rose didn’t want an in-depth conversation at all.

i mean, could you imagine what that would sound like? “how could you ever question my love for you? that was something i learned from garnet, not to question love, after i saw ruby and sapphire fuse for the first time. oh, it’s because i’m leaving you? all of you? you’ll be better off without m—oh no.”

she knew that conversation would only bring pearl more pain. so, instead of talking about it, her best attempt at giving her anything close to closure was to show her. she told pearl that she has important things from her and she “holds onto them” somewhere.

pearl wants to remember rose and hold onto everything related to their love, so she asked rose to return them to her.

but not right away. pearl wanted to watch over her every second that she could, and rose wasn’t feeling good a lot of the time. she’d retrieve them while pearl’s on a mission or something, so pearl never finds out about lion.

basically, rose did have things in lion that were related to pearl, but following that conversation she gave them back to her.

theory 2: “rose had a place that she kept hidden from all but me.”

this other theory is something i came up with when i was twelve. surprise surprise, i still don’t mind it.

“shhh! it’s a secret, even to garnet and amethyst. rose had a place that she kept hidden from all but me.” — pearl, rose’s scabbard

pearl and rose were incredibly close, and they had the secret armoury that pearl showed steven. so, why wouldn’t pearl and rose have another secret place? heck, they probably had a few.

rose & greg were together for 4 years, as greg is said to be 40 when steven is 14, but he says he was 22 when he met the gems. she was also much more familiar with earth and material objects, and she seemed to connect with greg through things like music and video tapes. they weren’t finding a bird feather and “oh my gosh this is so fascinating what is this” and keeping it, so that they could always remember their first hundred years of exploring earth (gregrose people, i am not hating on gregrose for not doing this… actually, im making fun of pearlrose more, look at these two silly sapphic nonhumans going wooooowwwooooooo when they see something on the ground).

it’s also been thousands and thousands of years since they first came to earth. every keepsake related to pearl… would be a lot of things. far too many for lion. so, maybe rose reserved those keepsakes in a separate place where she and pearl both knew of. i mean, it’s not unlikely considering pearl already had a secret place between her and rose—the secret armoury. she showed this to steven of course, but showing him their keepsake place is not something either of them would ever want. it’s personal. pearl goes there when she needs to be alone and reminisce, and it’s also probably designed with colours and features that they like. understandably she wouldn’t tell anyone about another place, bigger than lion’s mane, where they keep things.

my treasure chest theory

this can fit into both possible scenarios i’ve mentioned!

lion’s mane is still very much a mystery, even at the end of future. take the treasure chest, for example. it was locked, and steven couldn’t open it with a key that he found in lion 4: alternate ending. yet, in future we saw that the treasure chest was open. steven never acknowledged it, but given his issues opening it throughout the show, i really don’t think he had the key. i’ve made a forum thread about this, & you’d be surprised by how people think it was steven’s darn jacket. while that is something that noticeably changed, i don’t think rose would know his size at the oddly specific mid-teenage age, then store it in a box and lock it. some folks claim it’s a metaphor about pink diamond, but can the creators really do that? we see it in a scene. this means that the characters do, too. it can definitely represent/symbolize something, but it must also have some actual significance.

& i think it’s related to pearl.

the chest looks rather old, and i don’t think it would be related to greg even if it looked like something you’d buy in the 90s. this looks like a treasure chest you’d find hundreds of years ago… in an ocean, perhaps.

i think it’s a special box they kept where they stored all their memories in from when they first came to earth, first lived together, etc. maybe rose kept it in lion, and maybe pearl didn’t think she still had it. rose knew pearl had the key. she knew steven would find lion one day, and she wanted pearl to show him everything that they loved about life and earth. so, she kept it there, much like keeping the flag because she wanted steven to learn about the flag from pearl.

the box also has some flowers much like the one she put in pearl’s hair before the fake shattering, kept and pressed in a book. the original is also there, but wilted because it took longer to figure out how to protect it. she wanted to keep it because it reminded her of the beginning of their love. however, she also wanted to lock it for awhile after a few hundred years, because early life on earth was simultaneously a reminder of an experience they want to leave behind. it’s funny; the rose aspect of it, the beginning, they want to remember. the pink aspect of it, the end, they want to forget. years following this, pearl mentioned that she was ready to open it again, but rose didn’t seem to be. eventually rose was ready, but pearl never asked about the box again. she assumed rose never kept it, after this.

between change your mind and future, i think steven mentioned the box once. pearl asked him to describe it, and then she asked if he could bring it out. she had the key (hence steven couldn’t open it in the mane), she kept everything with her and after being incredibly emotional about all of this, she let steven keep the box. so now it’s open in lion’s mane so he can keep things related to connie (gifts, keepsakes, memories). pearl thinks this feels right because:

rose would love this

steven requested this

pearl is close to connie

they remind pearl of her and rose when they were younger

ending this post with these sketches of pearl by rebecca sugar. she’s wearing her 80s outfit with the leg warmers. in the first picture she sits with her cheek in her palm, blushing slightly, staring in adoration. the second picture is from waist up, her hands are in fists in front of her like she’s dancing, and her head is turned, smiling. i have a feeling she’s looking at rose in these pictures.

[floofeh-purpi]

Getting Isekai'd?! (Part 4)

Sagau! Genshin Fatui x Gn! Reader (ft. Your bsf)

『Beloved fluffball/s mentioned below! 💜』

@justmare @mc-cos-charm

YEY NEW FLUFFBALL, HIII!!!

☆

Sidenote: CUS ITS BEEN RAINING IN MAINLA HINDI KABA NILALAMIG?! (Song reference lol) 😫

Warnings: Cursing, grammatical/spelling errors, my delulu-ahh brain forgot to write english isnt my first language and im too lazy to edit the other warnings again, me probably switching the povs alot because... yeah, filipino reader maybe speaking tagalog and bisaya, mentions of you having a wound on one of your feet, blood, author's shitty attempts at making you laugh.

【Part 3】

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆

You eventually woke up from your nap coma with a sore ass throat and a somehow still fully batteried phone. "Ok, how the fuck is my phone still 100%?! 😰 But atleast I dont have to wait 2 hours to charge my phone lmao." You mused out inside your head cus you'd say it out loud ur throat would even more sore than it already fucking is.

"I should've bought a water bottle with me earlier... ☹" You thought as you putted your phone inside one of the pockets of your pajamas and slowly went downstairs and went to the kitchen.

You sneaked into the kitchen undetected by guests. Because all you wanted to do right now was sleep again rest. Anygays, you gobbled the entire glass of water within one go and putted the glass into the sink. "Nah, y/b/f/n's gonna wash them dishes today lmao." You thought before you plugged your earphones into your phone and listened to your playlist while humming softly to the song before going upstairs.

☆

The harbingers heard someone humming in where they assumed is the kitchen before someone passed by the living room still humming and with a tiny-ahh smile going upstairs. "Oh my~ Who was that beautiful person~?" Asked the Damselette. Its true though, you were the prettiest person y/b/f/n met. "That was Y/n. :)" The harbingers and the Tsaritsa's eyes widened at that name. But are still in denial because they need to confirm just one more thing. Denial, denial, denial IS a river in Eygpt 💀🙌

☆

You eeked mentally when your playlist started playing 'Good Looking by Suki Waterhouse' (Recommend listening to it 10000/10) since you dont have spotify premium and you ran out of skips. 😔

You sat down on the chair infront of your desk, which was messier than dogshit. "Omfg im too lazy to clean it up rn 😭🙌" you thought before you grabbed some paper that you totally didnt rip out from y/b/f/n's notebook like 2 days ago before yall were isekai'd and started drawing basically a city. Aka the city you lived in before this fiasco happened.

*Insert your drawing here cus I cant find anything that was close to my imagination 🥲*

After you finished drawing, you gave your arms a very well needed stretch you desperately needed that shit after sitting down with a posture looking like a fucking shrimp if you looked at what you looked like in the side for 3 fucking hours while your earphones were still playing music, "Finally done, im tired again lmao" you thought before you slept on your chair like when its math class 💔 because you were too fucking sleepy to even get out of your chair its comfier that those damned armchairs you'd sleep on during math class. 💀

But then, your foot accidentally hitted the leg of the table so fucking hard, that it caused the sleepiness in you to go *poof* "PUTANG INA NING LAMESA 👹" (Fuck this table) you yelled loud enough for only yourself to hear you held back your tendency to scream out filipino curses loud enough for the entire damn universe to hear you because... well, the people downstairs... Are downstairs...—

You felt your atoms and dna coursing inside you still shaking at the collision of your foot and the table, whats even worse is that the foot was the one that was wounded, which made the pain all the fucking worse.

"Bandages be damned. I need to fucking change these little shits. Bweshet nih. 😔" You cursed out loud as your throat wasnt as sore as earlier we call it mineral water for a reason /jk, you made your way into your bathroom while not walking normally.

♤

You were just drinking some water in kitchen peacefully, and of course your clumsy ass hand somewhat slipped and you accidentally dropped it onto the floor... and your foot. You winced at shards of bloodied glass digging into the flesh of your foot as sat on the nearest chair while y/b/f/n tended to your wound/s OHMIGASH KILIG NAKO AYIEEEEEEE!!!!!

♤ (End of flashback)

You got some bandages which were fortunately on the sink from the last time you changed your bandages and forgetting to put it back to its original place AGAIN, but you didnt give a shit rn. But as soon as you unwrapped your bandages, instead of the crimson blood you were expecting to see on your wound, the blood was... golden.

"...What the fuck?"

☆

YEY FINISHED PART 4!!! My hands are tired from holding the phone but its ok ❤

Filipino readers where u at? 😭

【Part 5】

Published: June 30 2024. 10:38pm.

[unreversedumbrella]

season 3 was a true loss for gay teru. i'm not really talking about shipping. (what is canon doesn't really matter for what people ship) its the fact that teru is implicitly gay in the manga, and very on the nose about it, but not in the anime. there are little moments, toned down versions of what we see in the manga. breadcrumbs compared to the original. but i don't want breadcrumbs. i want the whole bread.

i want this:

note: teru "shines" when talking with mob (from an omake and his shopping trip), something usually reserved to mob talking about tsubomi, but i have to reread the manga and confirm that.

so lets see why the manga works but the anime doesn't. i want to touch two scenes for now. again, i need to reread the manga

lets start with this gem of a line:

i made a post complaining about this, but people misunderstood my point at the time. its not about the words its about the face (although i think handsome makes more sense, the original means both cool looking and handsome). its about the overly serious gaze. an explanation i like is that, in the manga, teru is caugh by surprise (you can see him nervously thinking about what to say) which leads him to lose his composure.

this is the first and only time teru comments on mobs physical appearance, only to say he's handsome in a overly serious and nervous way. its far from the stereotypical getting all flustered reaction, but its still very obvious that teru doesn't really feel confident enough to share these feelings

you could say that anime teru has been waiting for this moment. he saw an opportunity and took it. but it takes off a bit of the impact, doesn't it?

once again bones changing teru's expressions. my personal interpretation is that teru is saying this both to mob, and himself. my idea is that he doesn't want mob to go out with tsubomi, but at the same time he doesn't want to get in the way. the latter feeling is probably aided by the idea that mob is perfect, an unachievable goal.

after his idea of mob gets less god like, this feeling disappears, which leads to my favourite:

this right here? THIS?? this is THE proof that teru is in love with mob. and its so on the nose im amazed studio bones had the guts to not show it.

this is really simple, so let start. while tome, mob and ritsu talk about tsubomi, their speak bubbles overlap a panel of a distressed teru. which obviously connects their conversation with teru's annoyance. its obvious the idea of mob dating tsubomi annoys him because he also has a desire, even if unconcious (but lets be real) to be with mob

AND THE ANIME GETS RID OF EVERYTHING. by showing teru after the conversation is over, they separate these ideas. if there was anything to separate that is! because they also got rid of teru's pained look! giving this more of a "someone just enjoying his tea" vibe. it was such a simple scene and they managed to ruin it

and people talking about the loud obnoxious slurp! i hear you. i get you!

but i can't do this!! this is breadcrumbs! i don't wanna do mental gymnastics to see him as "suffering inside" when its so obvious in the manga that he is suffering OUTSIDE (also mostly because this goes with the "you need a terumob bias to see this as terumob" idea i was going for in the beginning)

in conclusion

[autisticbokutoenthusiast]

person who is sooooo normal about ray talks about the end of episode 10, what it confirms, what it introduces, and what it may even promise:

"can you please forgive me?"

starting off with this line.... there is a specific brand of betrayal and hurt reserved for the people who feel like the only ones in the world that can make you feel loved. we've seen ray get angry and even lash out at the other characters before but we haven't seen him breakdown the way he did in the sandray apartment fight. i think i took ray saying that he finally was starting to understand his feelings more in episode 9 too lightly, because it seems he meant more then just "i think i like you too" kind of thing, i wouldn't be surprised if ray realized the love he felt as well, and not just romantic love but the "you've seen so much of the ugliness in me but still stayed" kind of love and, if im gonna be bold, acceptance.

"you can be angry or hate me all you want"

lines like this tell me two things, the first being the guilt ray feels over the way he treats people and the second being how much pain he thinks he deserves for it. though i will say this time it feels different then in episode 4 where ray asks sand to call him a burden, because before he wanted sand to hurt him back (a bit of retaliation a bit of self-harm even) but this time he is asking for sand's understanding and forgiveness. he still thinks he deserves it, but now its more then just asking for someone to hurt you in order to reconcile (we will get to the fact sand isn't really there don't worry) there is a sort of emotional growth is what im trying to say.

"i know now that you want nothing from me"

this is also such a huge line for me. we know ray views himself as worthless, he would rationalize why anyone would want him (this is why he was so hurt about sand accepting money from his dad but that's already been meta'd to death so i won't get into that), so him not only thinking but verbalizing that sand is someone who is kind to him without expecting anything in return is huge for ray's ability to see himself as more than a burden or his father's money. in fact, i'd say him admitting this here means he is already beginning to gain a sense of self-worth.

"though i've been nothing but an asshole to you, you are always there for me"

this is the part where we really see ray break. im not good at reading other people's emotions so im not gonna comment on what emotions the actor is trying to portray (tho he is portraying some big ones goddamn), from a text stand point, im interpereting this as pain. I talked before a bit about guilt but i'd say at this moment the realization that someone can care for him so deeply that the parts of himself he's sure are not only unlovable but hurtful won't drive them away, causes him a lot of pain. as someone who is bad feeling cared for or appreciated as a person and sometimes acts like a dick about it, i too would break apart at this moment.

"please understand me"

now this is the line that inspired this post in the first place. he struggles with the connections he has with others but you can see how lonely this man is. like he has been told he is a burden, he interperets his life events and the way other people treat him as proof he is fundamentally unlovable and bad luck for anyone he gets close to, and he is a self-fulfilling prophecy about it.

when he asks sand to understand him he's asking sand to look deeper then his self-sabotoging and attachment issues and see the love and care he has that he struggles to understand and feel and express. he is filled with so much pain how could it not start to infect everyone around him, but from what we see of him, he probably never wanted to hurt other people in this way to begin with.

i think the reason this line specifically broke my heart is that, so much of his behavior at times can be interpreted as a subconscious cry for help, help he won't except but help he needs anyway. i knew any arc involving ray addressing his addiction would destroy me because there is the pain experiencing the things i mentioned above, the pain in thinking you're helpless to them, and then the pain in doing what it takes to try to move forward from them, like this shit is hard. the clarity ray is able to adress imaginary sand with is so incredible even though its in his head, especially given how stubborn he'd been about admitting any issues in the first place.

"being with me requires some patience"

all that i said above and more... i don't think ray will get over that feeling of being a burden any time soon if he ever does because it becomes so ingrained in your worldview and the way you interpret other people's behavior. i like the way this line is phrased (i know its a translation but still) because it alludes to him feeling that he is capable of being loved, it'll be hard but not impossible.

"but if you don't want to put up with me anymore, that's alright. i get you"

remember how i just said i think he now believes he's lovable... well actually i still mean it. he's been constantly told and shown how his behaviour and mentality are hard to deal with, like he thinks his existence is so burdensome it killed his own mother BUT he now knows sand is different. he won't blame sand for not wanting to deal with him, he's always been aware of his shortcomings but can now honestly address the effect his actions have on others, and at the same time he knows that its possible to care for him.

this is why i think sand is his motivation for going to rehab, he's shown ray what is possible for him in ways no one else before sand has.

"but please know this"

there is something so special about the impact sand has had on ray that i think goes beyond their relationship. sand made ray see the value in having a future, in being loved, in being happy. in episode 8 ray tells sand that he's finally happy when they spend time together, and it may seem like he's repeating it here but again this sand is imaginary. he's not saying this to get sand to answer his texts or hang out with him. he's imagining his reason for wanting to recover from addiction. like the weight this scene carries at least triples for me everytime i remember sand isn't really there. this was such a beautiful choice to make imo like ray saying these things to sand would probably be good for their relationship but it wouldn't have the same impact on ray's character arc.

my conclusion is once again don't know why i rambled on besides, ray as character was manufactured in a lab to drive me insane. like i've triggered my mood disorder twice over the course of watching this show but i wouldn't take it back for even a second. i love ray, i love what we've seen of his mentality and backstory, i love that we're seeing him making the decision to address his addiction, i go numb with the thought of where his arc will go next, but i especially love seeing everyone come together to scream about this character that means so much to me (not at all subtle reference to the fact i've read hurt and grieve but don't suffer alone by @jgyapologism what three? times now) anyway hope we all continue to scream about him this week. 🫡🫡