Persephone!Eternal Reader (Sephia) & Hecate!Eternal Reader (Kaetlyn) Masterlist

Persephone!Eternal Reader (Sephia) & Hecate!Eternal Reader (Kaetlyn) Masterlist

All these works have these two characters together, but they will have ships featured

The big brain idea that started all this- Mostly Ikaris x Sephia, but ft. Kaetlyn x Druig, and Sephia & Kaetlyn

General Ikaris x Persephone!Eternal Reader Headcanons - mostly Ikaris x Sephia, but ft. Kaetlyn x Druig, and Sephia & Kaet

Sephia & Kaetlyn Vaguely Sapphic Friendship Headcanons - mostly Sephia & Kaetlyn, but also ft. Druig and Ikaris (sort of)

Druig x Hecate!Eternal Reader AKA Kaetlyn Headcanons - mostly Druig x Kaetlyn; ft. Sephia & Kaet

Eternals STEM Trio Headcanons - typical ships and pairings, but also ft. platonic Phastos x reader(s)

Should I make Druig and Kaetlyn Parents?- Druig x Hecate!Eternal Reader

Blood & Pain - Druig x Hecate!Eternal Reader Halloween Oneshot

Fall Family Chaos Fun - Ikaris x Persephone!Eternal Reader Halloween Oneshot

Procesión de la Muerte- Druig x Hecate!Eternal Reader Halloween Oneshot, ft. Hamish (Druig & Kaet's son/youngest baby)

Fashion Mistakes - Ikaris x Persephone!Eternal Reader ft. Druig x Hecate!Eternal Reader

La Vie En Rose - Ikaris x Persephone!Reader; SMUT, MDNI 18+

Truce - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Mostly Ikaris x Sephia, but also ft. Kaetlyn x Druig

From the Beginning - A Sephia & Kaetlyn Drabble

ft. hints of Ikaris x Sephia, and Druig x Kaetlyn

BITCH, WHAT?! - An Eternals STEM Trio Drabble

ft. typical ships and pairings, but also ft. platonic Phastos x reader(s)

Memes for Persephone!Eternal Reader & Hecate!Eternal Reader AU

More Eternals & Eternal!OCs Memes w/ Incorrect Quotes

⭐️- Put this star in the inbox of your favorite blogs. It’s time to spread positivity❣️✨🤍

Bel I love you from the moon and back my dear

Damn, amber talked like once and I wanted to set her hair on fire… well done

Already can’t wait for more!!!

blood runs thicker than water — two.

masterlist | requests are open!

pairing: eventual ethan landry x reader

warnings: mindy's monologues

[one.] [two.]

The day was grey and bleak, thick clouds rolled over Woodsboro. A shiver ran down your spine as a gust of cold air chilled you awake. Your trailer home didn't do much against the elements and fall was almost here. 

It was a Saturday. Th necessity of a school day did not wake you at seven a.m. like it did Monday through Friday; instead, a different necessity pulled you away from the warm mess of sheets on your bed.

「 … 」

Dewey Riley exited his room with slow, sluggish steps and a hand cradling his head in an attempt to shield his sensitive eyes from the morning light that peeked through the blinds. He stumbled towards the kitchen and fought to open the fridge with one hand, an ironic disappointment appearing on his face upon seeing it was full of fresh groceries.

"Good morning," you said softly as you came out of the bathroom, careful to keep your volume at a level safe for your father's headache — a tendency that was becoming more and more frequent. You reached up behind your dad to grab the brand new carton of eggs from the fridge.

"Did you get groceries?" Your dad questioned, not bothering to reply to your greeting. He was always a little prickly when he was hungover.

"Well, yeah. I kinda didn't wanna starve?" You laughed a little, though it became nervous upon seeing your dad's serious face. Confusion was taking over now, wondering why he didn't at least smile like he normally would — he was usually prickly, not pissed.

You shut the fridge as your dad leaned off it, his hands coming up to cross over his chest and you couldn't help but feel a shift and you went on the defensive.

"You went out by yourself? Without telling me?" It felt like an accusation of a crime, a tone you couldn't understand. You couldn't comprehend the sudden complaint when the two of you would be sitting here hungry if it hadn't been for you.

"It wasn't a problem before—"

"Well, it's a problem now. You don't go out by yourself, no matter what."

And you stood there, carton of eggs in hand and eyebrows furrowed in frustration as that tiny seed of resentment in your stomach threatened to grow, waiting for an explanation for the rash limitation your father had put on you — an explanation that wouldn't come as long as your father lived in denial.

He moved to pour himself a cup of coffee, not without some bourbon. You pretended not to notice, moving to make breakfast. That was your compromise. He could drink, but he had to eat whatever it was you made.

Your dad took a seat on the couch, turning on the TV. The news was already going. Your mother was on the screen, talking and laughing in a way you'd never seen before — sometimes she seemed more like a character far beyond your reach rather than your mother.

Your dad laughed at a joke she made, one you missed. With the alcohol and Good Morning with Gale Weathers, his face softened and you smiled at the scene, the anger and hurt you felt slowly fading. You walked over, handing your dad a plate of eggs and bacon, just the way he liked it. He smiled gratefully, placing a kiss on your forehead. You held your breath, the smell of alcohol stinging your nose.

A knock at the door interrupted your walk back to the kitchen and your father's face hardened again.

A voice called out from outside, one you'd never heard before.

"We're sorry to bother you, Mr. Riley, we just want to ask you a few questions -"

"I don't give interviews!" Your dad shouted, setting his plate aside and standing up.

You eyed your dad suspiciously. What happened last night?

"We're not looking for an interview—"

"Go away or I'll call the police!" Your dad yelled, properly angry now.

"You're a suspect in a homicide, so go ahead, call the police!" The voice yelled back, equally as enraged.

Your mouth dropped in shock and your father's jaw clenched. You stared so hard you were sure he felt it, glancing up quickly before he averted his eyes.

"Give me one good reason why I should talk to you!" He calls, but you could tell he was already convinced for the most part.

"I'm Billy Loomis's daughter."

The voice on the other side of the door rang clear, the words stinging like needles against your skin. You shivered, but this time, it wasn't from the cold air.

"Go to your room," your father said lowly, making his way to the front door.

You knew better than to argue, especially with the grave tone of the way your father spoke, like he was on the verge of either screaming or crying.

The walls were thin, anyway.

With the door ajar, you hovered, attentive to the footsteps and the sounds. The locks rattled and you could almost imagine your father undoing the many locks on your door before finally opening it.

The voices, now at a normal volume, were muffled and hard to hear. The conversation moved to the living room where your father's cold plate of food sat. You were hanging on to every word, focusing hard to catch as much of the conversation as you could.

"So help us! Help us figure out who's behind this!" Samantha's voice rang.

"Are you kidding me? I've been stabbed nine times, I've got permanent nerve damage and a fun little limp. I have a kid. You think I wanna go through that again? Put my family in danger?"

"You just said it always goes back to the past, right? So, if I'm in danger, that means you're both in danger. Come on, let's do this, together."

"Your time's up." And the last sound you heard was the door slamming and the locks rattling once more.

With a creak of your door, you made your way into the hallway, watching as your dad leaned against the front door.

"Dad?"

"Yes?" He leaned up and off the door, trying to relax his face and his breathing.

"You should help them."

"I thought I told you to go to your room."

You knocked on the nearest wall. "The walls are thin."

Your dad sighed, resting his hands on his hips.

"I'm not getting involved. I don't know anything."

"You know everything! You know what it's like, they don't. You need to help them!" You stepped closer, a pleading look on your face. There was no way you could leave these people to fend for themselves.

"The only thing I need to do is protect you."

Fear made his voice tremble as he looked down at you, his face looking older than ever as he pulled you so close you could smell the alcohol on him.

"We're getting you on the next flight to New York. I'm going to call your mother and you're going to stay with her—"

"What? Dad, I'm not leaving—" You pulled yourself out of the hug, looking at your father in disbelief.

"It's not your decision. My roof, my rules."

You scoffed. "What if Mom comes here? Who do I stay with then?"

"She won't. I'll tell her not to."

You scoffed. "And you think she's going to listen to you?"

Your dad's jaw clenched.

"Dad..." you stepped closer again, carefully. "You can't just run away. Not when there's people who need your help."

You wrapped your arms around him this time, hiding your face into his arm.

"I don't want anyone to die," you confessed softly, trying to hide the tears forming in your eyes.

"It's not our problem," your father tried to reassure, his hand coming up to gently pat your head.

"We can't just... sit here and do nothing!" Your voice shook with emotion, moving your head back so your father could see it. "Please?"

Your dad sighed. He was tired. You knew that. But you had to do something.

"You know, you're just like your mother." He shook his head softly.

For the first time that day, your father smiled at you and you returned it.

「 ... 」

You followed your father to the Meeks-Martin house, walking past Sam and her boyfriend, Richie, with nothing but a glance.

Your dad held on to your shoulder and led you inside as he greeted Mindy Meeks-Martin. Discomfort ran through you as you inspected the home and the pictures of the deceased decorating the walls. Something wasn't right.

The two of you moved into the living room where the group of teens were already sitting, waiting. Clearly, they weren't expecting you.

It was a coincidence you were born the same year as most of the friend group — an awful one.

Awkward glanced followed. They all knew who you were, especially with your father beside you. You knew who they were, faintly. You saw them all that day after school.

The only person you really knew was Wes Hicks. Your father always encouraged you to be his friend. You were, for years — until you grew up and the don't trust anyone rule began eating at you like a disease.

"Hey, Wes." You nodded your head in his direction as you took a seat as far away from them as possible. He was so different now than from you last knew him. Bleached hair, tall. But then again, the last time the two of you hung out was elementary school.

A part of you missed him. A part wanted to recreate the memories you had shared when you were seven, when you lived in blissful ignorance and still had the ability to make friends.

But too many years had gone by for that now.

"I asked Mindy to call everybody here because there's something I have to tell you," Sam began, not quite nervous but not quite eager. You couldn't blame here. You wouldn't exactly be showing off your parentage if you were her.

「 ... 」

"So, let me get this straight, you're saying that you're the daughter of Billy Loomis and, what, that one of us is the killer?"

"The killer told me he knew my secret. He attacked Tara to lure me back here!" Sam defended.

"But then why immediately go and murder some douche nozzle that was stalking Liv?"

"Why does it have to be one of us? And what about Deputy here? Maybe he's the killer..." You shot Wes a glare. "No offense."

"None taken. But what's my motive?" Your dad questioned back and it occurred to you he'd probably had dozens of conversations like this before.

"You got stabbed a billion times, got dumped by your famous wife and crawled into a bottle. I think it's safe to say you're on the suspect list."

"Well maybe you're the killer. Because that cut deep." Wes sent a look of concern and you placed a hand on your dad's arm.

"You don't have to be such an ass about it, Wes," you glared, scooting closer to your dad for good measure. Yeah, things had changed.

"That douche nozzle is connected. I googled him, his mom is Leslie Macher, Stu Macher's sister." Amber said.

"Who's Stu Macher?" Liv asked.

"Oh, my god." Amber grumbled.

"He's Billy Loomis's accomplice, a real looney tune." Your dad said. You'd almost forgotten he knew him. Knew them both.

"Okay, okay, so the first three attacks are all on people related to the original killers." Sam began, interrupted by Mindy.

"Oh, my god, he's making a requel!"

"A what?" Sam asked.

"Or a lega-sequel, fans are torn on the terminology."

"God, please speak English." Chad.

"Okay, remember the Stab move that came out last year?"

"Oh yeah, the one the Knives Out guy directed, right? You know, I actually really liked that one." Liv quipped with a small smile.

"Of course you did, you have terrible taste."

Liv's smile fell. "I hate you."

"The point is, the hardcore Stab fans hated it. You go on 4chan and Dreddit, all they're talking about is how Stab 8 pissed on their childhood. How they crammed in social commentary just to make it elevated, how the main character is a Mary Sue!"

"What's a Mary Sue?" Richie asked.

"You really don't want to know." Wes assured.

"What's wrong with elevated horror? I mean, Joran Peele fucking rules."

"Uh, obviously, but that's not Stab! Real Stab movies are meta slasher whodunits, full stop."

"Come on, it's just a movie."

"No, it's not. To some people, the original is their favorite thing in the world. The movie that made them love horror! That mom or dad showed them when they were ten that bonded them together!

"And God help anyone who slightly fucks with that special memory. Who makes a movie they think disrespects it. It sounds like our killer is writing his own version of Stab 8 but doing it as a requel." Mindy finished.

You could tell the others were getting tired of the monologue, rolling their eyes or slouching in their seats. But Mindy's enthusiasm guided you through her words, which you hung on to thoughtfully.

And to your father, they were nostalgic.

"Which is?"

"See, you can't just reboot a franchise from scratch anymore. The fans won't stand for it. Black Christmas, Child's Play, Flatliners. That shit doesn't work! But you can't just do a straight sequel, either. You gotta build something new, but not too new or the internet goes buck fucking nuts.

"It's got to be part of an ongoing storyline even if the story shouldn't have been ongoing in the first place. New main characters, yes, but supported by an related to legacy characters."

Mindy pointed to your dad. Oh, god.

"Not quite a reboot, not quite a sequel. Like the new Halloween, Saw, Terminator, Jurassic Park, Ghostbusters, fuck, even Star Wars! It always, always," she picked up a copy of Stab — the original, "goes back to the original!"

The room was quiet as Mindy's words settled in like a death sentence.

"Are you telling me that I'm caught in the middle of fan fucking fiction?!"

"Not just in the middle, Sam. You're the star."

"So," Liv began. "Not to put too fine a point on it, but according to requel rules..."

"Who's next?"

"Going by the pattern, whoever it is has to be connected to someone that came before." Mindy looked around before her gaze fell on you and your dad.

Your skin prickled at the attention that followed as everyone's eyes began to fall on you.

"I'm starting to regret coming here," your dad sighed.

"Jesus, my mom's a character in one of them —"

"No one cares about the inferior sequels, Wes, you're safe." Mindy turned to her twin. "With Randy as our uncle, though, you and I are probably screwed."

"Wait, what?"

"Or you're the killer and this whole, what, elaborate monologue is just to cover your tracks."

"I think the quiet ones are the killer," Amber spoke up, pointing an accusing finger at you. "I saw you watching us the day after Tara got attacked."

Your eyebrows furrowed and you scoffed. But before you could get a defense out, Mindy laughed.

"I think it's pretty clear who the killer is at this point."

"Who?" Sam asked.

"You." Mindy said, as if it were obvious. "It makes perfect requel sense."

A chorus of agreements followed and you couldn't help but feel sorry for Sam, watching as the anger and disbelief showed up on her face.

"Fuck this." Sam stood and left in rage.

"You know," your dad started, breaking the uncomfortable silence that followed. "Randy may have accused us all of being the killer too, but he was a lot nicer about it."

The two of you stood to depart, too. You spared Wes one final glance. Your eyes met for a second before he looked away, staring at the floor instead.

You and your father climbed into the car quietly. Your throat was dry and you had to lick your lips before you could even try to get any words out.

"You heard Mindy. It all goes back to the original. I'm a target, Dad. We both are."

"That's exactly what I was afraid of," your dad sighed, turning on the engine.

"I'm not leaving. We have to stick together. Power in numbers, right?"

Your dad turned and gave you a sad smile. He'd lost so much. The last thing he was going to do was lose you, too.

"You've gotta stay close, alright? Remember, trust—"

"No one," the two of you finished together. The piece of advice that had taken over your life for years. The one that had ruined all your friendships. The one that had booted Wes out of your life. You felt that resentment again, building up and threatening to spill out of your mouth.

"Yeah," you turned back around to face the road. "I know."

「 ... 」

Your music stopped just as the phone rang, chiming a few times before your father finally picked up.

You knew something was wrong the second he spoke into the phone, pulling your earbuds out and racing into the entrance of your home.

"It's... Judy and Wes," your father gasped out. The two of you exchanged a look of understanding.

No words were needed as you two piled into the car, hearts racing with pure fear.

「 ... 」

You arrived at the scene of the double-murders, bile rising in your throat. You felt like something was pulling you along, like you were no longer in control of your own body.

You had just seen Wes. Now you watched as his body rolled onto an ambulance. There was a blanket over him but you knew it was him. The ambulance's lights turned off. Dead on arrival.

You bit your lip to try and ground yourself, feeling the warmth of blood trickle on your tongue. You stopped once you tasted it, turning away from the scene with blurry vision. You turned to your father, who was speaking. You blinked through deep breaths as you tried to focus on what he was saying.

Something caught your father's eye, mid-conversation. You glanced in the direction of what he was looking at. It was your mother. You smile, watching as they met in the middle. Their faces softened as they came closer and your heart filled with a feeling you'd missed. A feeling of completion.

Your smile dropped as you followed your father's gaze behind Gale, looking at her camera crew. She hadn't come for the two of you.

Their faces changed again and the feeling faded, transforming into one of familiar pain as your parents engaged in a heated conversation reminiscent of your childhood. One of them delivered the final blow and they went quiet.

You took your opportunity.

"Mom?" You stepped forward. She hadn't noticed you yet.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" In her defense, there was genuine concern as she took you in and pulled you in for a hug. She smelled of freshly pressed laundry and a strong perfume. An expensive one. "You've gotten so much taller."

You couldn't help but smile at the affection. At the attention. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too. But you didn't answer my question." The softness faded a little from your mother's voice, her hands falling on your shoulders.

You sighed. "I'm a target, mom. We all are."

Your mother sighed, nodding knowingly. There was a faraway look in her eyes, like when you would catch her daydreaming about her life in New York.

She was tired, too. She just had a different way of dealing with it.

A member of her team called her name. She turned, giving you a small smile. "Duty calls."

It always seemed to.

Your father walked up to an officer as he arrived onto the scene, asking about something. More details, clues, you didn't know. You didn't want to think about the murders anymore. You wanted all this to go away.

"Who's at the hospital?" Sam's voice broke through your wall of thoughts. "Who's watching my sister?"

"I just heard about the sheriff..." The officer your dad was speaking to sputtered out in a pathetic defense.

Sam scoffed, running off. Right into danger. There was no way she was the killer if she loved her sister that much.

"They needed me here!" The officer called out defensively.

"Where are you going?" Your father yelled out after Sam.

"My sister's in trouble!"

He glanced at your mother, who was reporting live. He looked at you, worried about the state you were in. You avoided your eyes and started chasing after Sam. With no time to argue and no choice, your dad followed.

Sam's face betrayed her confusion at your willingness to help. But time was ticking and the killer would clearly not waste an opportunity to kill.

"What are you waiting for? Drive! Come on, let's go!"

Sam peeled out as squeezed your eyes shut, gripping onto your seat in an attempt to brace yourself.

You weren't ready for this. Not by a long shot.

But it was too late to turn back now.

From the Beginning - A Persephone!Eternal Reader & Hecate!Eternal Reader Drabble

Pairings: Persephone!Eternal Reader & Hecate!Eternal Reader, ft. Sephia x Ikaris, and Kaetlyn x Druig Word Count: 1.1k Summary: A lil' drabble idea to show how it all started for our favorite thinker and fighter, and how they would soon change everything for everyone. Warning(s): none it's so fluffy Notes: Once again, thank you to the most wonderful beta reader a new fanfic writer can ask for in the history of everything, @valeskafics! She is an incredibly kind and patient human and one of the best and most incredible fanfic writers for HOTD, GOT, and the Ewanverse on Tumblr! If you love any of Ewan Mitchell's works or are a fan of GOT/HOTD, I highly recommend checking her blog out! You will not regret it! Also, the BIGGEST thank you and shout of love to @ethereal-athalia, my good man in the storm, I have never clicked so well with someone on this platform when it came to crazy ideas, and thanks to her, I can write out my ideas and share them on this site! If you want to read more from this AU, please click on this masterlist!

“It is time,” were the first words uttered that would mark the beginning of a mission that would change their lives forever. Long gone were their lives on their home planet, Olympia. Now, their only priority was their mission on the planet Earth.  

Twelve individuals stood from their seats and made their way to their positions that marked their roles in humanity’s growth. Six on one side, and six on the other.  

Six Eternals would serve as “fighters,” protecting humanity from the hideous creatures that threatened their feeble existence known as “Deviants.”  

The other six would take on their roles as “thinkers,” guiding humanity to evolve in their intelligence so that they would be able to create wonders without assistance.  

But regardless, “thinker” or “fighter,” each Eternal was blessed with abilities that would play an integral role for their mission. Each Eternal stood in their place, golden streams of celestial energy encompassed their bodies as they could now wear the armor that marked their Olympian origins and culture.  

With their bodies equipped, and minds ready, each Eternal made their way to gaze out from the many windows that their starship, the Domo, was built with in preparation for their travel.  

As each Eternal introduced themselves to one another, hoping to gain common ground with the team to settle rattled nerves, only two individuals had no need for introduction. 

As one Eternal gazed out the Domo - bereft at the sight of the planet where her new life would begin – she wondered if Earth would ever be home the way Olympia had been to her despite her having no true memory of it. She wondered if her abilities would prove useful, and she was worried that she would be incapable of making any friends. Luckily, that fear would be one that would pass very, very soon. 

“Sephia!” 

Her name was all she heard before arms encased by iridescently dark blue with pearly ivory entwining into celestial bodies that wrapped around her nimble but powerful form. A wide smile grew as she registered the familiarity of the voice.  

It was Kaetlyn, her very best friend.  

Instant relief filled her body as she shifted her body to return the hug. Sephia’s joy knew no bounds as she realized that she would at least be in the company of one of the greatest warriors Olympia had ever produced. But even without her arrows, Kaetlyn was the best person Sephia could think of for as long as she remembered. The fact that she left her home and was aboard with too many strangers no longer mattered to her. So long as her beloved Kaet was by her side, Sephia would get through anything that came her way. It was if their bond was testified and bound by the stars themselves. 

“Aren’t you so excited? Look at it! It’s so beautiful! I wonder what sites we’ll see!”  

As Kaetlyn’s curiosity grew, so did her excitement. Her voice could hardly contain the sheer ecstaticity that was flowing throughout her entire body. The next words that escape her would mark the shadow archer’s true intentions.  

“Think of all the adventures we’ll have,” she whispered out so that only Sephia would be able to hear her, “The stories we’ll be able to tell!”  

If Kaetlyn was known for anything besides her skills in combat, it was her insatiable curiosity. For as long as Sephia had known her, Kaetlyn was never ever satisfied with only knowing whatever she currently knew. She always wanted to know MORE. Sephia smiled at a memory of Kaet once explaining to her that it was her solemn oath that she would never EVER be satisfied with only what anyone gave her, and that she’d always find her way to learn more. That oath felt like it was from a lifetime ago. 

These words were from another lifetime, in more ways than one. But that will come to light at another time. 

But despite Kaetlyn’s contagious excitement, dread began to course through Sephia’s veins. As her nerves began to eat at her, Sephia couldn’t help but pick at her fingers. A horrible habit that would always result in inflamed tissue, bleeding, and ugly scars.  

“I’m scared,” she timidly replied, eyes turned away so that she wouldn’t let her friend see her cowardice. “What if the life forms on this planet are horrible? What if they are beyond help?” As Sephia continued to list her concerns, Kaetlyn understood that it wasn’t the fear of others that terrified Sephia, it was the idea that she would be of no use to Arishem’s grand design. 

“It will be alright Seph,” Kaet declared in a tone that filled herself with confidence and Sephia with reassurance, “After all, as long as we’re together, nothing will be too terrible.” 

“…I suppose that’s true,” Sephia let herself agree to her most trusted companion’s advice, but her heart was still heavy with anxiety. 

Very softly, she dared ask the most stupid question that ever left her mouth. 

“Will we always be together?” 

Kaetlyn looked at her most cherished friend with so much warmth in her eyes that it was as if all the most beautiful things in the universe were born into the very person in front of her.  

“Sephie,” she began with love in her voice and stars in her eyes as she leaned forward to press their foreheads together, “As if you even need to ask.” 

Unbeknownst to either of the girls, two men from opposite sides of the room gazed at the loving embrace with curious eyes.  

One came from Ikaris, a fighter gifted with the ability to fly and emit optic beams of celestial energy, as well as a commanding figure and attitude. His watch was fixed on the beautiful Eternal, with flowing blush fabric draped across her lovely figure as strategically placed brass armor hinted at the curves of her physique. He could not stop staring at her, despite the impossibly lovely Sersi that stood beside him at that very moment. 

The other came from Druig, a thinker who was known across Olympia for his telepathic abilities, along with his quick wit and surly demeanor. But all somber thoughts came to a halt at the sight of the slim figure, who after donning her armor, disappeared into the shadows of the room. Only to reappear to embrace her friend with so much delight, it surprised him.  

Two very different individuals, but both somehow staring at the sight before them for so long, that it would set in motion the events that would be all four individuals’ joy, as well as their end. 

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