#but there doesn't appear to be enough space at the end of he hallway between the bedrooms for that

[khaotunq]

Things I spend way too much time on: figuring out floor plans of fictional character's living spaces.

#i have a whiteboard on my desk for expressly this purpose #this apartment has confounded me since it was black/white's #it confused me as cher's #and now it's starting to take shape as sandnick (or... snick #as i've written) #but the overarching theme is i still dont fuckin know where the bathroom is #the one shot we have of the doorway of the bathroom has crates and amps around it #but there doesn't appear to be enough space at the end of he hallway between the bedrooms for that #i'm going to build it in the sims to see what the spacing looks like in 3d probably #i do that a lot too #i've been both manic and in pain today #so i've made a massive apple crumble and done this and 17 crosswords #and otherwise spent the past 10 hours rolling around feeling useless #someone put me out of my misery pls #tell me where the bathroom is #make it make senseeee #so it is decreed #adventures in ofts #i guess this goes there

[carlyraejepsans]

You've mentioned multiple times now Sans canonically switching fonts if I'm not mistaken? What/when are the instances of those?

To be precise, he switches from comic sans to the standard Determined font, so you could also technically call it "turning off his typeface".

there's four notable examples that come to mind

When we first meet him:

he even spaces the letters apart sightly, which implies he's talking slowly and deliberately. this fits two explanations, one doylistic: we don't know him yet, nor do we know the connection between skeletons and fonts so suddenly seeing dialogue in comic sans would break the tension in the scene; and one watsonian: he's trying to scare the crap out of you, so he uses the most terrifying voice he can make.

At the MTT Resort date

Yup. This one pretty much cements the interpretation that he switches fonts to sound scarier. He even does the creepy "music cuts out, speaks slowly and spaces the letters apart for maximum effect" he did in Snowdin Forest. But moving on,

In the Final Hallway

While it's definitely meant to mirror our first meeting, what with the foreground elements hiding his appearance/disappearance, our being backlit throughout the whole scene, and the complete lack of music... there's no way that the player doesn't recognize his silhouette, and knowing the whole speaking in fonts shtick, seeing comic sans shouldn't break the scene anymore.

he's not spacing the letters apart like the previous occasions and he's speaking at normal speed, so I'd rule out that he's trying to sound scary, but he still drops his font in favor of the standard one, right until the moment his actual judgement begins (ie when he checks your EXP and LV). while you could still make a compelling doylistic argument re: comic sans just looks stupid in this scene, i think the font switch makes perfect sense if you read it as sans just being solemn for once. his judgement will inevitably get lighter-hearted*, and he'll go back to his font and soudfont, but it really feels like he wants to open the matter setting a serious tone. this is the end now. enough messing around.

*speaking of the tone of the judgement getting lighter. know what font he uses when it doesn't?

....yeah.

The Lost Soul fight

now THIS. this is an interesting one. because not only does it happen in battle, but there are three VERY big differences when compared to the occasions i listed above:

he's not capitalizing his sentences

he's not silent when he speaks. on the contrary, he's actually using a different soundfont: the standart one you hear with the narrator and secondary NPCs.

his text moves like a wave, much in the same way as napstablook, the heavily depressed ghost who's constantly crying, and the amalgamates (all bar endogeny, who doesn't speak at all) who are... well. you can assume what emotional state they are in.**

honestly I could talk about this detail alone for HOURS, especially when you consider that as soon as his memories are returned, he immediately goes back to his usual font AND soundfont

our friends during the lost souls fight are supposed to be at their lowest, confronting their character flaws and their demons. and considering the nature of what sans says, well... i think it's fair to assume he's either straight up crying or in otherwise extreme emotional distress.

aaaaand that's it! that's all the occasions that come to mind. from what we're shown, we can gather that sans switches off his font for occasions where the mood is far from light, either because it's serious, solemm, scary, or just plain sad.

there's a couple notable occasions that fit these criteria but still use comic sans, such as the "do you wanna have a bad time", threat the "heya. you've been busy, uh?" monologue before the genocide fight, and the genocide fight itself, though all of them can be explained with the fact that the pacing of the dialogue was far too fast for it to be effective.

but yeah. the lost soul segment is the one that makes me tear my hair out. hope this answered your question!

#**..... ALRIGHT ALRIGHT AARON DOES IT TOO. ARE YOU HAPPY NOW??? #and the waterfall monsters. but those are water based monsters the context is different. they clearly don't count #actually. i changed my mind. aaron is just constantly flexing through the tears #THERE #undertale #sans #entry log #answered asks #metanalysis

[mallowofmuses]

The net has been draped over Oz's locker as though it was intended to capture it but missed its mark.

The door has been wrenched open to do so, metal crumpled in on itself like a discarded tissue, paint chipped and peeling at the corners that have been bent creased as though they were nothing but a construction paper card created by a child. Long silver scars of exposed metal race over the top and the formerly immaculate sides, seemingly scored by nothing other than the edges of the locker door itself, rather than claws or some kind of implement. Almost like its been crushed and tried to spring back up on itself, though still bearing the wrinkles prior. Nothing's been touched inside, though the exterior has likewise also been slightly crumpled, bent inwards and out as though it was just wet and sagging, instead of the same solid, cool metal as always.

The net, in comparison, is almost too innocent. It's not heavy enough to do this, and there's no sharp edges, no glint of uncanny ability from it. It's large, larger than most nets surely, maybe several square yards, but this by itself suggests nothing other than the amount of material needed to make it. It does seem like it might be expensive — the weave is not plastic nor cotton nor rope at all, not really. It's somewhat tacky to the touch, a strange sensation, but it's clearly some kind of tempered leather strands, woven around on themselves in a braid to make a length, and those lengths woven further into an intricate, sturdy diamond-shaped net pattern. The holes are smaller than usual too, suggesting clear mastery of whoever made this, yes, but also suggesting a smaller, sleeker target. It doesn't look like the type of net that might be thrown over someone, but rather the type of net to be thrown over something.

Furthermore, it is still heavy. The edges are weighted, with every six inches or so along the outermost edge of the net interrupted by some kind of curling metal weight. They look a little like shells, actually. There's the inward spiral of a snail's shell, starting small and getting wider, suggesting a pattern of growth, and indeed there are hollow spaces within, where Oz might be able to stick a finger if so wished.

However, they also are, still, absolutely, metal. Some kind of black, dense metal, not easily identifiable, cold to the touch and slightly pitted here and there. No animal has a shell like this, but it's not clear how they were even made in the first place. There's no seam, and furthermore, this level is detail is just not possible when working with metal. The only idea that keeps being arrived at with any conviction is the theory that this was made from an animal, many animals who grew many shells, but again, there is no animal with which this would fit the profile. It's too specific, too intentional, too purposeful.

The last piece is somehow the least concerning, because it at least is the most directly concerning. There's a red substance on one corner of the net, thick and sticky, the kind of ruddy color so deep and so dark that it appears black beneath the right light and stains fingers that touch it. Clumps of it appear along the net and its strange leather bindings, pale pink and gummy, veined over with the darker red.

Oddly, despite the evidence to the contrary, there's none of the red semi-liquid on the locker, or what remains of it. Perhaps Oz just managed to get lucky, and it's one less thing to clean.

Between the awful minutes of awakening from a deep slumber, this was a rarity, the feeling of avoiding school today. Yet, he needed to force himself to get up from the weight of his physical and mental exhaustion.

All he wished is to stay at home and pet his dog, forgetting the outside world that awaits him. However, there was a nagging feeling to at least 'try' and proceed to this unshakable dread of missing school.

The hallways felt never-ending, walking in it almost forever with monsters passing by like they're shadows from his peripherical vision.

To witness his locker in such a state, it didn't have an effect on him to muster up an ounce of irritation. Whoever did this, it was either a prank or a way to show some sort of appreciation? He can make a deduction as to who it was, but didn't want to be absolutely certain of the culprit. If one thing for sure, he's not going to touch the substance that is staining his locker and potentially his belongings inside.

Thus, he went on away, hoping to find the Princess nearby.

"Hey, Oz, good morning there!" One of the students greeted as he passed by them.

"I'm sorry, not now." Oz responded with an empty tone of voice.

#Ask Meme #royalreef

[schleckermaul]

( 🍭 the five senses ) [ 𝐅𝐈𝐒𝐇 ]: sender takes receiver to the aquarium to watch the sea life. ( because i wanna see what break sees at an aquarium ) — @nobully

WHEN WANG YI FIRST OFFERED, break truly thought he was mocking him, suspiciousness like a second layer of skin. the distrust must have shown in some way, or at the very least, his non-answer was telling enough, because the man was quick to reassure, and break had difficulty figuring out if it's nervousness or annoyance accompanying his voice.

' you need to get out of the house sooner or later, ' is what he'd offered as a hasty explanation. ' and sea air's supposed to have health benefits. ' break could picture it, then. how he'd make a quick gesture with one hand, avoiding his gaze. it's something he's done before, when he was sputtering at whatever silly thing break last said, but now that wang yi knows of his blindness, it felt a bit pointed.

   he still accepted. he was bored out of his mind, being stuck in this apartment, even with zhilan taking great care of him. maybe that, too, is a bit suffocating, an endless source of comfort and fondness where break is sure he doesn't deserve it.

   their trip to the aquarium was easy enough, mostly silent, wang yi asking a few questions about his injuries that break didn't want to answer, giving bare-bones replies until he learned to shut up. it was only once wang yi paid for their entry and they went through the entrance that he started talking.

   reading the little plates at some exhibits. explaining the layout. pulling break out of the way when he got overwhelmed enough by the crowds around them that he lost sense of direction, nagging the people who almost bumped into him. it's ... such a reluctant and almost disgruntled way of showing affection, break has to stop himself from snapping at the man several times, not always successful. a random tug of his arm does it eventually, break yanking it away from wang yi with a glare.

' alright, geez! i'll just let you walk into a wall next time. ' wang yi retreats, fabric of his sleeves rustling as he raises his arms in temporary defeat.

   ' you think i didn't get around without you before? '

' before you got your ribs smashed by a car door, you mean? '

   and break really has to stop himself from starting a physical fight, then, in the middle of an aquarium, where the soundscape is relatively pleasant and the air isn't sticky or heavy. instead, he clicks his tongue, dismissive, flipping the ends of his hair back. ' and whose driving skills were at fault for that again? '

   he cackles when wang yi gets into a fuss at that, jumping a few steps ahead to put some distance between them. not enough to separate them, just enough to enter the next part of the aquarium by himself, and ... the layout changes, he notices immediately.

   instead of a rather tight hallway, where the walls are filled with square, hollow boxes for various amounts of smaller fish, the space he steps into feels circular. and, more than that, it doesn't feel like he's surrounded by walls made of stone or wood. after a beat of contemplating whether it'll be suspicious, break takes a few steps to the side, until he finds himself face to face with what seems like glass, hand coming up to trace the material.

   it's a tunnel. made of ... glass. with water behind it? surrounding them, break realizes the next moment. so there must be more animals as well, judging by the sounds of moving waves, like the echo of a cave, occasional squeals. the noise of other people talking is eased here, no longer as much of a pressure on his ears. he's underwater without being underwater, a sensation he didn't think he'd ever feel.

   a serene moment, with his palm against cold glass, his head less foggy than it's been the last few days.

' you're staring at a fish. ' break's eye flickers into wang yi's direction at the sudden appearance. it probably wasn't sudden, he just wasn't paying enough attention as he stepped up next to break. ' or the fish is staring at you? it's kinda hard to tell, with those bug eyes. '

   break is silent. he doesn't even sigh. apparently, wang yi took that as an invitation to keep rambling. ' it's yellow— '

   ' you can stop, you know, ' he finally interrupts, though no actual anger darkens his tone. mostly, break just seems tired. his side hurts, the pressure of his bandages ever-present, medicine making it harder to concentrate. it's exhausting, to recover, when it would've been so easy to just give in. close his eyes, give up. at the edge of death, it takes so much more resilience to stop himself from taking a step he can't take back. breathing still hurts. he wishes he could just stop doing it. not looking at wang yi (not that he actually can), break keeps staring ahead.

   ' describing it to me. i don't need to know. ' removing his hand from the glass, it's pleasantly cool when he traces around his right eye.

   ' this is part of my punishment. ' it sounds ridiculous enough for it to be a joke, but break remains serious. or perhaps resigned. ' not being able to see. trying to help defeats the purpose. '

   he doesn't say more than that. he doesn't even think of the last time he saw sharon's smile, or how he's starting to forget how she looked in the first place, memories all he's able to hold onto. it's easier to wallow in his pity, in the conclusion he's made years ago. that whatever harm should befell him as a consequence of his actions, whether that's mad hatter or all those people he killed, is deserved and just and simply the way things need to be.

   redemption waits at the end of the road. he's left the path, standing here instead of his own world. maybe he'll never receive it, then.

   ' i should be dead, anyways. '

   the last part slips out unintentionally. it seems to cement whatever struggle wang yi's been having next to him, conflicted emotions radiating off him like the waves surrounding them. there's a moment where they're simply standing next to each other, a pit of guilt separating them from the rest, clinging to their feet.

' whatever. ' break wasn't expecting any particular response, but wang yi still manages to surprise him enough to turn towards him. is he ... annoyed?

' you're not. and you better not bite the dust in the foreseeable future, either. xiao lan's been putting too much effort into keeping you alive. ' which feels like a threat, and maybe it is. break doesn't have the energy to resist when wang yi pulls him again, to leave this spot and keep walking, keep looking. but there's space for him, here, for his hair to fall over his face as his expression tightens.

   there's people at his side again. invested in his survival. scarred hands cupping his cheeks when panic threatened to overwhelm him. somebody frantically pulling him out of a crashed car. the warmth of a picnic, the voice of the woman he loved, sitting with ...

i should be dead, he thinks again. it's a bit softer. weaker. silly refusal, like a child unwilling to give up a sweet.

   he lets wang yi describe and explain for the rest of the trip.

#nobully #& — ask . #& — ic . #wild timing on this one #(set sometime after the event when break's recovering) #i love it here. actually i hate i there. i am in pain and it's delicious #suicidal thoughts cw #suicidal ideation cw

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S1:E2; Chapter Two, The Weirdo On Maple Street - [Pt. 3]

A Will Byers x Male!Reader Series

𝘠/𝘯, 𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘢𝘴, 𝘋𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘔𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯.

|| 𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

"Ready are you? What knows you of ready?" Mike spoke in a voice that was supposed be Yoda's.

Mike had been showing her his room; he was now showing her all of his toys. El gave him strange looks at his unusual voice. He continues in his normal voice.

"His name is Yoda. He can use the Force to move things with his mind, like this." Mike then quickly shoves all of the toys off the table.

"Whoosh!"

Eleven looks around and all sorts of items she had never seen before on Mike's dresser. Mike, had now moved on to his favorite dinosaur toy.

"This is my dinosaur, Rory. Look, he has a speaker in his mouth so he can roar." He turns to show her, only to realize she was now by his dresser and was looking closely at everything in curiosity. He put down Rory and joined her.

Eleven took note of all the things before her; what appeared to be a shiny gold woman with wings and many other figurines like it that stood on wooden platforms.

"Oh, these are all my science fair trophies. We got first every year. Except for last year when we got third. Mr. Clarke said it was totally political."

El smiled at one of the trophies that read HAWKINS MIDDLE SCHOOL TEAM PROBLEM SOLVING CHAMPIONS, next to it a picture with five kids all holding a large trophy. El recognized everyone. She smiled when she saw the only friend of Mike's that offered to help her; Y/n. He was standing in the middle, one hand holding the trophy, the other one was behind a smiling boy, two of his fingers sticking up making it look like the other boy had bunny ears.

El's smile fell when it dawned on her that she recognized the boy. She gasped silently, her mouth agape. Mike took note of this and watched her carefully as she slowly brought her finger to the picture. Mike watched as finger landed on his missing friend.

He looked back at her in shock. "You know Will?" She didn't say anything, her mouth still open and a very concerned look on her face.

"Did you see him? Last night? On the road?"

Before she could say anything, the loud noise of halting vehicle broke the silence. Mike quickly ran to his window in a panic, his mom was pulling up the driveway.

He ran back over to El.

"We gotta go."

He grabs her hand, yanks open his bedroom door, and drags her down the steps. He halts at the landing of stairs, staring in horror as his mom is at the front door, closing it behind her. Her youngest, Holly was in her arms, and so was her groceries. Before she could see anything, Mike ran back upstairs with El, as quickly and quietly as possible.

Karen Wheeler stopped in her tracks when she thought she heard someone upstairs.

"Ted? Is that you?" She calls out.

"Just me mom!" Mike yelled out frantically as he ran through the hallway.

"Mike? What are you doing home?"

"One second!" He brought El back into his room and lead her to his closet, not before closing his bedroom door.

"In here. I'll be right back, okay?" Mike instructed, slightly out of breath.

El stood rooted in place, fear in her eyes.

But Mike was frantic. "Please, you have to get in, or my mom, she'll find you. Do you understand?" El only looked at the closet, then back at Mike.

"I won't tell her about you. I promise."

"Promise?" She asked, clearly confused.

"It means something that you can't break. Ever." He explained quickly.

"Michael?" Mike's mom could be heard from downstairs.

They both looked to the door, then back at each other. "Please?" Mike pleaded.

El looks between Mike and the closet, unsure before walking inside, and turning to Mike. He quickly closed the door and she began to back up further into the closet, panic setting in.

- 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 -

"Pop!"

Eleven struggles to break free from the men's hold as they carry her by her arms down, back into the room.

Sobs racked her body as she uses all her strength to turn and look back at Papa.

"Papa!" He steps out into the hallway and remains standing, doing nothing to help her, yet she still calls for him.

"Papa! No!" She screams her throat raw and her legs never stop kicking.

"Papa!"

They round the corner and at the end of the short hallway lays the dreaded room. The cold unwelcoming florescent light floods from the open door. Her resistance becomes stronger and more violent.

"No! No! No!"

Her screams become incoherent when the two men chuck her to the ground, she scrambles to feet in an attempt to stop the copper door from closing. Alas, she is too late for the steel door had slammed shut before her.

"Papa!" She yelled, slamming her palms against the cold copper.

"Papa!" She tries banging her fists, but to no avail.

"Papa! Papa! Papa!" Her screams turn to sobs.

"Papa."

She backs away from the door and retreats to the corner of the very small room where she tucked herself away. Her heart sinks to the floor with her, unable to do anything but curl up in a ball on the ice cold tile.

"Papa." She whimpers quietly.

- 𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗢𝗙 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 -

Eleven backs up until her back hit the wall and she slides down till she is sitting on Mike's floor. She hugs her knees to her chest and allows her sobs to come.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"I just... I don't feel good." Mike was sat, hands folded together on his couch with his mother. He was giving her a false excuse of why he was at home during a school day.

"I woke up and my head, it really hurt bad, and my throat was all scratchy, and I wanted to tell you, but the last Tim's I told you I was sick you made me go to school anyway, and-"

"Michael."

"Yeah?"

"I'm not mad at you."

Mike was surprised to hear this from his mother.

"No?"

"No, of course not." She adjusted herself so that she was closer to her son, grabbed his hand in her's and sighed.

"All this that's been going on with Will, I can't imagine what it's been like for you."

Mike looks down to his lap, taking it in. No one had asked how he was doing with his best friend missing. It was hard. The whole party was worried. He never considered that and it was... refreshing to hear that his mother understood. He looked back at his mother as she continued.

"I just... I want you to feel like you can talk to me. I never want you to feel like you have to hide anything from me. I'm here for you. Okay?"

He nods his head. They both look up when they hear a soft thud from upstairs.

"Is there someone else here?" She asks.

Michael considers what his mom just told him. "No."

"Huh. Weird. Hey by the way, did you do something to my plant out front? It looks amazing!"

"Oh, that? Um, well, no that was Y/n."

"Really? Wow! That's incredible, he needs to tell me his secret. I could really use his help! Say, speaking of Y/n," she nudged her son, a teasing smirk on her face. "Anything going on between you two? Do you like him? Does he like you?" She asked, getting more excited with each question.

Mike's face scrunched up. "Ugh! Mom! He's just a friend! He's, like... my brother! How many times do I have to say that?" He whines.

"You're right, you're right! I'm sorry, my bad." She throws her hands up in surrender. "It's just... you two would be so cute toge-"

Mike stands up from the couch quickly. "Mom!" He interrupts, then sighs. "Thank you for understanding and letting me stay home, it means a lot, really. But I should probably go upstairs now and lay down, okay? Okay. Bye."

He runs upstairs before she can respond, leaving her sitting on the couch, in confusion.

"...Okay," she says to no one in particular.

|| 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

Lucas, Dustin and I were biked to Mike's house to meet him there. Once we arrived, he quickly rushed us up to his room. El was sitting on Mike's bed, a blanket on her legs. I remain standing next to everyone else but I give El a smile and a wave. She timidly smiles and waves back.

"Are you out of your mind?" Lucas argued.

"Just listen to me." Mike began.

"You are out of your mind!"

"She knows about Will."

My head snaps up at the mention of him. "What?" I quickly look to El and then back at Mike, my eyes wide.

"What do you mean she knows about Will?" Dustin asks for me.

Mike took a few steps towards his dresser and picked up the picture of all five of us at the science fair.

"She pointed at him, at his picture. She knew he was missing. I could tell."

"You could tell?"

"Just think about it. Do you really think it was a coincidence that we found her on Mirkwood, the same place that Will disappeared?"

"That is weird." Dustin agreed.

I turned and slowly walked over to El, cautiously taking a seat next to her, but still giving her enough space. "Is that true?" I ask in a gentle whisper. She looked me in the eye and gulped, and ever so slightly nodded her head 'yes'.

I chuckle in disbelief and look at the boys hopefully.

"And she said bad people are after her. I think that maybe these bad people are the same ones who took Will."

"Guys, think about it. I think he's right. I think she might know what happened to him." I speak up, hope in my voice.

"Then why doesn't she tell us?"

"Well, maybe she's scared of you two!" I accuse.

"Why should she be scared? I'm tired of this." He walks straight over to her and starts raising his voice.

"Do you know where he is?"

"Lucas..." I warn, my hands subconsciously ball into a fist in anger.

Suddenly he grabs her by the shoulders, shaking her and begins yelling in her face. "Do you know where Will is?"

"LUCAS!" I bark. Standing up immediately, I rip his arms of her, she's cowering in fear. "Dammit man, get your hands off of her! And you wonder why she's scared," I scoffed, crossing my arms.

"She should be scared! If you know where he is, tell us!" She doesn't say anything and she bites her lip trying not to cry. "Lucas! Listen to me. I know you're scared and worried about Will, okay? We all are, but we have to be patient okay? She's scared, she's lost, she probably doesn't know who to trust, we just need to be kind to her alright?" I plead.

"Ya know what? No. There's no time. This is nuts. We have to take her to your mom." He says turning back to Mike.

"No! Eleven said telling any adult would put us in danger." Mike argues.

For the first time in a while, Dustin spoke up, his voice soft.

"What kind of danger?"

"Her name is Eleven?" Lucas asks.

"El for short." Mike corrected casually.

"Mike, what kind of danger?" Lucas pressed, his voice grew significantly louder.

"Danger danger," Mike yelled back.

I look around, breathing heavily as I take everything in. Mike puts his hand up to my brother's forehead in the shape of a gun. Then the same to Lucas. Lucas swats away Mike's hand almost immediately.

Lucas begins to panic. "No, no, no! We're going back to plan A. We're telling your mom."

I try to grab his arm as he stomps towards the door, but he shoves my hand away. He rips open the door, only for the door to be slammed shut all on it's own, making everything around the room shake. We all stare at the door in confusion. He tries it again, but the door continues to slam shut. Then, we all see the lock turn by itself.

'Okay, well... I know I didn't imagine that.'

Simultaneously, we all turn to El to find her standing, blood dripping from her nose giving Lucas quite possibly the sharpest glare I have ever seen.

"No." She states firmly. It's enough to send a chill down my spine.

It's silent for a few moments and I breathe out a shocked chuckle. "That... was the coolest thing I have ever seen."

#you'll float queue #stranger things #will byers x reader #reader insert #will byers #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #cosmic #m!cosmic #y/n henderson #el hopper #eleven #x male!reader #x m!reader #will byers x male reader #stranger things x reader #x reader #the weirdo on maple street

[randomshyperson]

The Scarlet Witch Prophecy - Chapter 25 - The Battle of Hogwarts (Part One)

Thanks to my gif maker and friend of course, @abimess.

Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies. || Words: 5.550 K

A/N> The third to last chapter is here, a little late because I just forgot to publish it yesterday. Well, good luck and good reading everyone.

Series Masterlist ||  Read on AO3 || All Works Masterlist

Chapter 25 - Part XXV - The Battle of Hogwarts (Part One)

The first thing you notice when you arrive at Hogwarts is the sky.

Maybe it's because you fell backwards onto the ground, and the high was what was within reach of your gaze, but you can see clearly that the exact moment Wanda apparated you and Charles into the castle, was also the exact moment when the protection spells broke.

The great force field placed in the castle, breaking into luminous pieces in front of your eyes, would be beautiful to watch in any other situation.

Now, it just means that you arrived just in time for the fight to begin.

A gentle touch pulls you up, helping you stand.

Wanda's concerned face checking to see if everything is okay, and you have to push the ringing in your ear from the adrenaline to absorb her words:

"[...]Charles is not breathing, Y/N! Help me!" And suddenly your heart is beating so fast that you have barely stood and are kneeling again, now next to the man who has fallen to the ground.

"What happened?" you asked worriedly, watching him squirm, the wide wound in his throat.

"He splinched! I don't know why I-"

"It's okay, Wanda, give me your hand." You interrupted her trying to calm her down, pulling her close. "Do as you did with me, I'll help you."

"I-I don't know how, I-I-"

"Trust me, then, babe." You guided quickly, as Wanda lowered herself down beside you, and you intertwined your hands at the height of Charles' wound who was almost passing out. "Breathe, let your magic flow with mine. The same way you healed me, help him."

Wanda tried to control her nervous tears, taking a deep breath. Her hands trembled on top of yours.

But as soon as you felt her magic, you focused.

It was a strange feeling, healing someone with Wanda's magic.

A soft sigh escaped her lips, and then it turned into a laugh of relief as the wound began to close.

Within seconds, Charles was blinking in confusion, trying to sit up, breathing normally.

"Hey buddy, how are you feeling?" You asked, touching his shoulders, and he shook his head.

"O-okay." He replied breathlessly, impressed. "Thank you, ladies."

"What happened, Charles?" Wanda asked worriedly, helping him stand. The sky exploding around you.

"We appeared a second before the protection spell broke, girls." He explained as he looked up at the sky, "I figured it would be worth absorbing the damage, rather than putting you two in danger."

"That was stupidly brave, buddy." You mutter making him laugh.

"Let's hurry up, I think the fight is on the other side."

You were near the entrance to the stone circle, just before the Wooden Bridge. There was no one there, but the force field was disengaging almost completely at that point.

Grabbing the Sorting Hat that had fallen from your head, and the sword that Gryffindor Charles had made a small belt for you to hang on your back, you ran beside them toward the castle.

As the distance diminished, your body began to shiver.

Wanda was in danger here.

You pushed the feeling away, trying to ignore it.

She intertwined your hands together, trying to give you a minimum of reassurance as you crossed the wooden bridge.

"Don't come any closer!" Someone shouted from the edge of the entrance, his wand raised.

The person saw Charles, who was in front, first. Hence the hostility, you guessed.

And then he recognized you and Wanda.

"By merlin, it's them!" Shouted the boy. "Tony, it's your sister!"

You choked, stepping forward.

Tony stumbled out of the area he was covering, and had half a second before he recognized you for you to catch up to him, jumping on his neck, hugging him tightly.

"Idiot, your friend almost stupified us!" You fought between tears as he laughed in relief and hugged you back.

He let go of you to hug Wanda too, but the loud noises of explosions in the distance made you exchange knowing glances about continuing.

"We need to go, the walkers are coming through the front entrance." He directs, but before you guys can move, there is a loud whistle.

You turn toward the bridge entrance again.

There is a large group of wizards there, who have probably appeared in the forest.

"That's why we're here, Y/N. I put a bomb on the bridge. Come right in." Tony says quickly, pulling you guys off the bridge.

The group of wizards is led by a grim-faced man with a huge scar on his face.

"Stop hiding, children!" He shouts as he walks.

Tony exchanges a look with the boy who was watching, and shouts.

"Come on, don't you think it's pathetic to attack a school, Digger?" Tony teased, clearly wishing the man would advance on the bridge. "You sound desperate, buddy!"

And this Digger guy seemed to get annoyed, but his gaze fell on you and Wanda, and his expression flashed with anger.

"My, my, is the Scarlet Witch am I seeing? You guys are fools."

You would have moved forward, wiped that sick smile off his face, if Tony hadn't cast an incantation on the end of the bridge, which caused a huge explosion.

He rushed to get you guys out, pushing you back into the castle as the wooden bridge was destroyed and that whole little horde of walkers was defeated at once.

"That was incredible!" The boy from earlier commented as soon as the explosion was over, "I'm Scott Summers, nice to meet you all."

You frowned at the outstretched hand. The name was not unfamiliar to you. But it wasn't until Wanda discreetly whispered in your mind that he was a friend of Jean Grey's did you recognize him.

He greeted everyone quickly before Tony turned to you.

"What the hell are you doing here anyway?" He asked, now almost annoyed. "Mephisto is here, somewhere outside the field. Neither you nor Wanda should be anywhere near him."

You started walking back to the castle, as you spoke. "You shouldn't have attacked now, Tony, you don't understand. He can't die, it is an ancient magic, it's called horcruxes and-

"Well, break it then!" He interrupts impatiently, because you guys are running and he is trying to get to the others soon. " Actually, tell me how to break it, and go back to Strange's room, that psycho can't lay eyes on you."

"No chance, I'll fight with you." You contradict, and Tony turns around with a grimace, but doesn't have time to protest, because by the time you reach the inside of the castle, it's insane.

There are many wizards in there, from the order, from the ministry. Also, a lot of classmates and children. Your first thought is to mentally curse Stephen for not sending the students home.

But someone jumps on your neck. It's Gamora, hugging you so tightly that she almost knocks you to the ground.

"By Merlin, what you're doing here, you can't be here-"

"Good to see you too, little sister." You interrupt in a tearful laugh, some members of the order recognizing you as well, but they keep moving on out, probably to deal with the rest of Mephisto's army.

"She said something about death magic, Gamora, just get her out of the castle before he knows they're here." Tony warns and he looks at you for a second before following the crowd of wizards outside, wand in hand.

"Let's go down the top hallway and-" Gamora says, already pulling you along, but you don't move from your spot.

"No you don't understand, I need to destroy two things, and I need to know where Pietro is." You say quickly, and Gamora blinks in confusion before answering.

"I think Piete was covering the Suspension Bridge entrance but-"

Wanda is already running before Gamora is finished, and honestly, no chance in hell you won't follow her.

Gamora shouts your name about four times, but the crowd of people keeps her behind.

"We should get back to Agatha, girls." Charles tries to ration, but you and Wanda keep running.

Hogwarts has never been so crowded.

The students are getting desperate, and you think that's why they seem to be running everywhere.

The stairs are changing very quickly too, and you and Wanda grumble impatiently as you struggle to get to Pietro by them.

It's when you reach the third floor frame that you lose your breath all at once, and almost fall into the gap between the stairs, but Charles holds on by the cover.

"Stark, what is wrong?" he asks worriedly, and hearing this Wanda stops running, turning to check on you immediately.

But you're not listening.

I know you're here, child. And I'm going to kill every one of them if you don't give me back what’s mine.

You choke, shaking, blocking your mind. Mephisto had managed to get in for a second, long enough for you to fall to the floor.

"It's him." You gasp accepting Charles' help to stand properly. "He got inside my head, and he knows we're here, Wanda. We need to hurry."

"I have to find Pietro and-"

"I know, let's find him first and destroy the Horcruxes."

In the Suspension Bridge area, a duel was going on.

A small group of walkers were trying to invade the castle through that zone, and Professor T'Challa, along with Pietro were covering the place.

You didn't recognize any of the wizards, but it didn't matter much, because Wanda attacked them the next second, her magic going by the free space between Pietro and T'Challa to hit the three wizards with a wave of energy all at once, which threw them off the bridge.

The two boys turned around confused and impressed, but Wanda jumped on Pietro the next moment, hugging him tightly.

"Sestra!"He said, shocked, matching the squeeze with a tearful laugh. You smiled at the scene, but looked forward, and your stomach gave a complete flip.

"How touching, a family reunion." Hela mocked as she slowly approached, behind her, Loki and three other wizards you didn't know, "It'll be worth killing you all together then."

T'Challa attacked first, but Hela used a magic you had never seen before.

It was a black claw, coming out like an extension of her own hand. It didn't break apart with your teacher's stupore spell, but rather darted through his chest.

You let out a loud exclamation, widening your eyes.

T'Challa fell down to the floor, dead.

"Did you like my new trick? I learned a few months ago, when Maximoff brought us out of the forest. I needed to learn how to never let my bunnies run away again." Hela narrated as she pulled the claw back. "Nothing fairer than to use that on him don't you think?"

But you attacked, furiously.

A shower of spells began. Agatha's lessons had been worth it.

You were dueling three wizards at once.

Charles joined you at your side, while Pietro pulled the professor's body out of the way, sniffling softly.

And then Hela was aiming her claw at you again, and you had no idea which spell to use.

You know the spell. Kill her.

Hela missed as you pushed that sinister thought away.

Wanda hit her in the ribs with a wave of magic and she let out an angry and painful scream, the claw hit the wall behind you, narrowly missing your face.

You muttered a “Thanks, babe”, realizing that the claws had a regarch time.

Your problem for the next ten seconds was to keep your mind blocked from Mephisto, ignore the trembling in your body from having Wanda in danger, and dueling three witches at once.

Everything was under control.

Until Hela took aim at Wanda.

"No, she belongs to the dark lord!" The witch next to the woman shouted, but too late, because Hela shot.

And Pietro reached Wanda before you did.

He pushed her to the ground, and the claw went through his chest.

"N-no!" Wanda screamed, and everything exploded around you in a bright red light that threw you and everyone around.

You shook your head as you tried to understand what had happened.

But you raised your eyes to find Pietro on the ground, and Wanda standing there, a red circle around her before she attacked Hela with a energy so strong that completely disintegrated her.

And then the other three witches were targeted.

You reached Pietro, choking on his own blood.

Just like in Wanda's vision.

"Piete, no." You gasped tearfully, as you pressed your hands to his wound. "Please, buddy, keep your eyes open."

He just stared at you, losing his strength.

You could feel Wanda's liquid fury in your veins as she kept fighting.

And if you couldn't help her now, you would help Pietro.

The sorting hat fell from your head as she cast the spell, and you looked at Charles picking it up off the floor, a confused but impressed look on his face.

On the brim, the Hufflepuff's cup.

You remembered Agatha's memories in the same second. About the cup healing the wounded, like it healed Thanos' colleague.

And Charles threw it to you before you even asked.

As soon as it touched your bloody hands, the cup filled with a transparent liquid.

You recognized the appearance because Charles was an excellent potions mentor.

Pouring the fluid into the wound, Pietro cried out. His skin burned as it closed, but the wound gradually cleared.

"Wanda, he'll be okay, look!" You shouted, and it was the same second she was going to aim at Loki, who was already on the ground, his hands raised in pity.

She gasped out her own magic, turning to you.

Pietro was pale, but he was healed. And Wanda quickly knelt down to you, and you stepped back so she could hold him.

"Destroy it now, Miss Stark!" Charles directed as soon as the cup rolled from your hands to the floor.

You waved frantically, but when Wanda threw you with the magic, the sword fell forward as well.

And it was Loki who reached for it first.

"Give it back!" You ordered, wand raised to the boy with the mixed look of fear and anger in front of you.

He just shook his head, and seeing the validity of the item, and understanding that he had no chance of facing you all, he ran to the edge of the bridge, sword in the air.

"Stand back or I'll throw it." Loki warned, and you obeyed, your hands raised in the air.

"Loki, please give it back."

"What is it?"

"It doesn't matter, just give it to me."

"She killed my sister, Y/N." Loki accused then, his eyes filled with tears.

"And Hela tried to kill Pietro. I'm sorry, Loki, but we're not the ones fighting on the wrong side."

"Wrong side?" Loki let out a humorless laugh. "You have no idea what he's done do you?"

"Who, Loki?"

"Odin." He retorted in disgust, his sword swinging over the edge. You swallowed dryly, trying to think of the possibilities of reaching Loki before he threw the sword.

"No buddy, I don't know what you're talking about."

"You think you're fighting for the right side?" He angrily accuses. "Odin killed my parents!"

You frown in confusion.

"Is that why you are fighting for Mephisto? Is it for revenge?"

"I am a child of late autumn, Y/N." He clarified, and you widen your eyes. "Odin killed my family."

You shake your head. "No, Loki. Mephisto searched for the children, he wanted to find Wanda. He-"

"Do you really think only the dark lord was looking for the children of the prophecy?" He interrupts angrily. "Everyone was. And when Odin came into my house, my parents thought he was a walker, and they attacked. And Odin killed them. And because he loved to play the good man part, he took me to live with him. All these years, I never knew. Until Hela told me the truth."

"Do you think fighting for Mephisto changes that? Odin made a mistake in lying to you, that doesn't give you the right to follow a dictator."

"None of them had the right to lie to me." He continues angrily. "Your side pretends to be good, covering the lies for each other. But it was Odin who broke into my house and murdered my parents. He stole me. He stole my life."

"And I'm sorry, Loki." You said sincerely. "But teaming up with someone worse doesn't fix things. Give me back my sword."

"What is it for?"

"To destroy horcruxes."

Loki hesitates. He looks at you doubtfully, and then at the object at his feet.

"You are lying."

"No, I'm not." You return. "Please, Loki. We are friends. Don't make me take the sword from you by force."

Something in his eyes changes for a second. “Friends? Even after what I did?”

You swallow hard, nodding. “You knew it was me. That day. But you didn’t say anything. I think it’s because you’re not like them. You’re scared, like the rest of us.”

Loki just looks at you for a moment, then throws the sword on his other hand and advances against you.

But it’s not on yourself that he aims, it’s in the object at your foot.

The second the blade pierce the cup, a dark magic energy flows out of it. It throws you and Loki away, right to the floor.

You see the image of a furious face emerge before it completely fades away.

The second horcrux was destroyed.

Coughing a bit, you feel this sharp feeling behind your neck, and close your eyes.

Fool child. I will not have mercy on any.

It’s Wanda’s touch on your face that brings you back to reality. She’s pulling you to stand, worriedly looking at you as Charles carries Pietro inside.

“I’m okay, love.” You whisper weakly as she checks you, but you’re looking at Loki, who has the sword in hand, sitting on the floor. “You did it.”

You tell him, somewhere between proud and impressed, but the boy just seems tired. He swallows hard, as if trying to control the urge to cry as he stands up.

“There's little I know about my real parents, Y/N." Loki says approaching. "And one of those things is about their contempt for magics like Necromancy. There are things I need to figure out on my own. Loose ends in my story, that will now be harder to unravel without my sister, or my mother. But I will not follow anyone who is willing to kill others to avoid his own death. I think I'm pretty evil already."

Loki hands you the sword. You swallow dryly, holding his hand over the item.

"You're not evil, Loki." You say. "You just made the wrong choices."

He gives you a sad smile, the explosions getting more powerful. The fight is getting worse, and he sighs, moving away.

"Hela said he was looking for a chamber in the castle, something underground." He tells you, and before you can thank him, he has disappeared before your eyes.

You turn to Wanda, and she already has an understanding look on her face, knowing where you should go.

"Go. We'll join the main entrance." Charles said, but Pietro moved to protest, and Wanda touched his shoulders.

"No, I'm not leaving you two alone!" He shouted, but his sister shook her head, ignoring the tears.

"Up here, you'll be safer than with us." She said with her voice full of emotion. "Please, Piete. Just...go."

"Wanda..."

"Now."

Pietro swallows dryly, and hugs his sister one last time before heading back inside the castle with Charles, running towards the loudest noises.

"Let's end this, darling." You say as you intertwine your hands together.

//-//-//-//-//

It is in between stumbling around the crowd of wizards running through the third floor to the stairwell that you remember that you don't know how to get into the chamber of secrets.

"Wanda, wait." You say giving a gentle tug on the hand that remains entwined with you the whole way.

And she turns around curious and concerned, but you just shake your head.

"We don't know-"

"Let's find my father then." She interrupts and you give a short laugh.

"Stop reading my mind." You tease as she pulls you to walk, a mischievous smile on her lips.

You make your way down the stairs back to the second floor, and an explosion in the nearby hallways catches your attention immediately as a group of first-year students scream and run away from that direction.

You and Wanda exchange a glance before moving forward, only to reach the almost completely destroyed hallway. A huge crater had been opened in the wall by a giant outside, who was looking in.

"Witches!" Said the monster in a loud, slow voice, as it noticed you inside.

You choked, stumbled and pulled Wanda away, before the giant could stick his hand into the hole and grab you two.

“Okay, not this way.” You comment as you run the opposite direction, screaming to the students outside to go the other way around.

Back in the Grand Staircase, there are wizards on brooms.

You frown, not understanding what the point of that is, but you figure that in their desperation, the students have tried everything.

And then there are walkers coming in from the upper floors, and you understand that whoever is in the air was trying to prevent them from coming down.

"Darling, where do you think your father is?" You ask worriedly, looking up to see two seventh-year witches knocking out a walker on the uppermost stairs, flying between the staircases with their Quidditch brooms.

Wanda didn't respond as one of the walkers hit a staircase, blasting the steps with a bright spell, and she quickly stopped three students from falling, pushing them back to safety with her magic.

Slightly out of breath, she turned to you.

"Upstairs." She says.

You let out a sigh. The upper floors, and the main entrance are where the fighting is at its worst. That's where your bond will leave you breathless due to the danger Wanda will be in.

But you just nod, and guide Wanda between the stairs, occasionally exchanging spells with the walkers who make it down.

Professor Erik is nowhere to be found.

You and Wanda are running for about twenty minutes, and it’s getting hard to ignore the way the bond is begging you to take her away from danger, as you feel an insistent headache and chills around your body.

As you stop to catch your breath, around the fifth floor, you keep your head down, as you lean against a wall with your hands on your knees.

“What is it, babe?” Wanda asked worriedly, her hands coming to your neck. “Merlin, you’re pale.”

“I’m o-okay.” You say back, feeling a bit nauseous. “I think we’re close to ending this, love. That’s why i-”

But a strong explosion cuts your line, the magic doing it’s job to protect Wanda for the wreckage that came flying all the way around. Someone just destroyed the sixth floor, the remains of the explosion flying to the halls, all the way down the stairs.

Coughing a bit, you get up, helping Wanda stand properly as well.

Before any of you can understand what happened, there’s a wizard jumping on you.

“I got the protector!” He screamed as you two fell through the air, in the gap between the stairs. The walker could turn into some kind of flying mist, and even though you were struggling against his grip, you couldn't get loose, and the ground was closing in at a considerable speed.

Your ears had an irritating ringing, and from the way your whole body shook, someone had reached Wanda too.

But then the feeling diminished.

And as you fell, you saw the characteristic light of Wanda's magic, before the walker's mist overwhelmed your vision, and you crashed against the steps, cascading to the last floor, as your back hit the stairs many times before you hit the ground.

Groaning in pain, you felt your whole body aching as you tried to blink and locate yourself, all half blurred around you.

You thought someone was calling you, and trying to ignore the whole accident to focus on the feeling that you needed to protect Wanda, but just as you started to get up, something came around your ankles, and started dragging you.

"Keep them busy, you useless bastards! The dark lord just needs the protector for the ritual." It was the last thing you heard before the bruises from the fall knocked you out.

//-//-//-//-//-//

There was an insistent ringing in your ears when you opened your eyes again.

And the floor was cold and damp.

It took you a few seconds to realize that besides the water, your clothes were wet in places with blood from your wounds.

Your whole body ached, but you didn't mind.

Because every cell was screaming Wanda's name.

Find her. Protect her.

You choked as you forced yourself to move, noticing your surroundings.

“Wanda?” you gasped breathlessly, trying to locate yourself. It seemed like a long hallway, and it was dark.

You could hear the explosions from the castle, even if they were muffled.

Someone chained you to the walls, and you realized that there were voices in the distance, and as you sat up, you tried to understand what they were saying:

"Harkness is going to help with the ritual." Someone commented. "Our master and his apprentice are finally united again."

"I thought he wanted to kill the girls." Retorted the male voice.

"The dark lord wants the scarlet magic, but he can only get it with Agatha's help, because of the fusion she did. I think she managed to convince him not to kill the children. For now at least."

The voices grew closer, until two tall, frowning wizards with their faces hidden by skull masks turned down the corridor, catching up with you.

"Hey, the sleepyhead is finally awake." Teased the taller one, raising his wand toward you to make the chains force you to your feet. "Come on, they're waiting for you."

Fighting the chains was useless, but you did it anyway.

And your head began to pound. Wherever Wanda was, she was in danger. Or maybe it was because she should be in great stress right now.

As you were dragged down the corridor, you were startled by the magnitude of the snakes embedded in the stones.

And then it occurred to you where you were.

Salazar Slytherin's chamber of secrets.

The walkers led you to the center, and as you reached the place, you noticed that colorful runes were drawn on the pillars, and candles were flying around. And in the middle, a pentagram that you didn't recognize.

What frightened you the most, was the gigantic basilisk skeleton in the corner of the room, perched like a work of art. You deduced that many years ago, the mortal remains of the creature were moved back into the chamber to avoid the curious.

It was no less frightening.

The wizard from before, hit your knees with a colorful spell, and you fell to the ground, facing the pentagram.

"Wait here, protector." He said, and then gave a little laugh. "Not that you have a choice."

"Fuck you." You grumbled but then gasped in pain, the torture curse hitting you in the ribs then making you curl down on the floor.

"Stop it, Zsasz!" Asked the wizard next to you, pushing the other's wand away, and consequently making the spell stop. You gasped with relief. "She's not ours to play with."

"Tell her to behave herself then, Vormund ." Retorted the angry Zsasz fellow. "I hate those half-bloods."

"Calm down, you idiot." Warned the other. "This will be over soon. Don't do anything to annoy the dark lord again. He's already pissed off enough with the destruction of the darkhold."

You widen your eyes, and let out a humorless laugh.

"Ouch, your master lost his little book? What a pity." You teased helplessly, and almost regretted the kick to the stomach you received, but the infuriated faces of the walkers made it worth it.

"You won't keep that little smile on your face when I rip out your spine!" Threatened Zsasz, causing you to lock your jaw by the wand on your neck.

"What's going on here?" interrupted a female voice, coming from the hallway.

It was a woman you didn't know, without a mask like the other two. And her confident posture, or perhaps her presence, made the walkers jump away from you.

"N-nothing, ma'am." Answered Vormund quickly. "The half-blood was being rebellious an-"

"And you two assume you have any right to correct her?" Cut the witch snidely, moving closer. "This must be a joke."

The wizards exchanged glances, but bowed their heads.

"Forgive us, Lady Mystique, it won't happen again." Said Zsasz, but the woman just held up her hand telling him to keep his apology.

"Go back to the entrance. No one must interrupt the ritual. And the dark lord is on his way." She said simply, and the wizards looked at you one last time before they started walking off in the direction they had carried you.

The Mystique woman waited until they had disappeared down the hall to look at you.

"I'm sorry for the hostility, dear, in the best of words, they are brutes." She said, waving so that the knot in your chains loosened a bit, which lessened the pain, but did not free you. You also felt a slight push on your back and legs, forcing you to stand gently.

"Do you expect thanks for the mild torture, ma'am? Not going to happen." You retort between teeth, trying to look around for some way out. But the chamber was dark and you didn't know the place.

The Mystique woman seemed to find your harshness amusing, and gave a short laugh, following your curious gaze.

"Even if you try to run, they will catch up with you." She says, making you lock your jaw.

"And even if you escape the spells, you won't be able to ignore the bond."

You have no argument really, so you just sigh. "What are they going to do to me?"

"The dark lord wants the scarlet magic." She answers. "And he needs to break Agatha's spell to get it now."

“But if he kills us, the magic will be gone.”

“That’s why he’s breaking the spell before killing you two.” She states simply, as you feel your stomach turn. But her eyes are gentle, and makes you confused, so you try to bargain.

“Please, you can’t let him do that, he’s insane and-”

“Enough with the begging, i hate it.” She cuts impatiently, but not cruelly. “Just do what you’re supposed to do and don’t freak out.” She whispers and you can hear steps coming closer. “We’re ending this for once.”

You frown, but Mystique is putting her hands on your arms to spin you around, making you look forward.

Widening your eyes, you take a step forward.

"A-Agatha, help me!" You ask quickly, watching the woman come out of one of the hallways to meet you in the center, wand in hand. "They're trying to do a ritual and-argh!"

Your speech turns to a groan of pain as Mystique's magic throws you to the floor on your knees, bending you over.

"Kneel in the presence of the dark lord, child." The woman warns beside you, and you choke as you feel your whole body shudder.

In the tunnel beside Agatha comes a man, whom you recognize well.

"Agatha, what's going on?" You ask confused as you see her walk beside Mephisto, to the center to meet you. And her expression is impassive, and you want to vomit. "Professor, what...?"

"Just look at that child, old friend." Mephisto interrupts, assessing you as you walk. "How did someone so weak get chosen to protect my sorceress?"

You lock your jaw, staring angrily at the wizard. He nods to the witch beside you, who also bowed.

"Raven, dear, thank you for taking care of everything." He says. "You may go, we will need privacy for the ritual. Go up to the castle, my sorceress needs to stay busy as much as possible until we're done here. And then you can leave it to me, I'll go after her myself."

“As you desire, my lord.” Raven says before getting up and leaving.

"After everything, you're going to betray us?" You accuse Agatha angrily, but she says nothing, just deflects her face to Mephisto, who gives a short laugh.

"Only a fool would believe that wizards like us do not belong together, Miss Stark." He says, and with a flick of his hands, all the candles in the place display a green flame. "Let's get on with it, Agatha. I need your help now that that fool destroyed my book."

"Yes, Faustus." Agatha replied before nodding toward you, and the chains glowed purple, steadying you tightly against the pentagram, which also lit up. "Let's begin."

//-//-//-//-//

Tag list > @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia || @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @helloalycia // @ensorcellme // @aimezvousbrahms // @drpepperobsessed // @sighsam // @olsensnpm // @sxfwap // @table57 // @madamevirgo // @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo // @emptysince18x // @xastrydx || @yuhloversxx || @ymzki-haruki || @wouldirunofftheworldsomeday || @lostandsearching || @lezzzbehonesthere || @musicinourlips || @chaekhan || @diaryoflife || @nervoustrack || @aquamarinescarlet || @cristin-rjd || @idamaemann || @fortunatelynerdylight || @iliketozoneout || @blackwow34 // @spongebobtentacles || @cyberbonesworld |

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x yn #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x you #marvel imagines #The Scarlet Witch Prophecy

[abovethesmokestacks]

Hidden Love

Title: Hidden Love

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word count: 2.2k

Rating: All audiences

Warnings: None. Or me, probably butchering the Victorian era. Also, you know, slight angst, because I can’t help myself

This story sparked from a moodboard I made a while back, of Victorian King!Bucky and maid!reader, and it kinda got away from me, as everything tends to do these days. And listen... I know. The term Victorian really only relates to the history of the United Kingdom during Queen Victoria’s reign, but please bear with me on this and suspend belief and step into a world where during this era, Bucky is king, and enjoy the stay.

The sounds of crystal clinking together should be like silver bells carrying over the din of hushed conversation, but to his ears, it's like nails on a chalkboard. The food before him is rich and each bite seems to swell in his mouth, forced down in thick swallows and gulps of wine. His cheeks hurt from smiling, and his feet itch to leave, to stand up and walk out. He could.

"More wine, your highness?"

He could, he is king.

The server's voice is low, bowed down appropriately to only be heard by him. He shouldn't have another glass, for the sake of his mental faculties. He should, to keep up appearances. He can already sense his mother's eyes on him, the calculating gaze he has known his entire life. The dowager queen, a mother only as it serves her image in the kingdom than anything else.

"Everything all right, James?" she asks, and oh, that tone is deceptive. Kind on the surface, but weighed just so with the barest hint of concern to draw the attention of the other guests.

He wants to grimace, his name sounding contrived and wrong in his ears, granted with the weight of legacy, set aside for a few blessed years of childhood and then thrust back upon him when illness took his father and forced him back into a mold he would much rather escape. The coronation had his stomach in knots, a chill persisting in his bones and a simmering dread as he was crowned - anointed by God, what god would place their faith in someone so flawed as man? - His Majesty James, by the Grace of God, King of the Nation, Defender of the Faith.

"Nothing, mother. Pondering my choice of drink."

He tries for amicable, jovial. It is the annual Christmas feast, why shouldn't he be happy? His mother quirks an eyebrow, holding his gaze just long enough for the hairs on the back of his head to stand on end before her eyes glide from him to take up the conversation she left.

Some defender of the faith he is, he doesn't even have faith in himself.

An eternity seems to pass as dishes pass before him, plate after plate until he feels nauseous. Around him, the atmosphere has relaxed, emboldened by wine and spirits, and even his mother is no longer sparing him a glance to keep track of him. Somehow, he would have thought being king would have meant finally being free of her shadow, but she is still there. No longer a shadow, but a presence right behind him, a metaphorical foot on his robe to remind him of his place, and hers. He wonders if anyone has noticed that his glass of wine has not been refilled in a long time, that he has been nursing it steadily and that his boisterous laughs have all been hollow.

He could leave, but not without drawing attention. Just a little while longer. He glances at the opulent grandfather clock, feels its ticking like a heartbeat. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet.

Each tick of the clock is an endless journey. Through rigid traditions, glasses of brandy, sweet sugarplums and fragrant pines, all he can feel is the passing of time, one second after another without an end in sight. Gifts are exchanged, crackers pulled with cloying glee and he feels more like a fool than a king when one of the footmen is coaxed into slipping the thin paper crown on his head. His mother bows out with effortless grace, sparking hope that maybe, just maybe, he can make his escape.

"Let me accompany you, mother," he asks, begs, voice low as he stands up to offer his arm for her.

Take it. Please, for the love of all things good and holy, take it.

Her smile is not exactly smug, but it hides a kind of joy that he thinks must be sour.

"Nonsense, my dear. Don't leave on my account, stay, be merry."

It's loud enough to be heard, for plenty of people to hear her deny him his exit under the guise of a mother not wanting to spoil her son's fun. He tries not to let his gaze harden or his forced smile to weaken, instead kissing his mother's hand and bidding her good night. Propriety will keep him here another hour at least. The clock ticks, chipping away at the span of time before he can have his freedom.

He thinks he might finally be going out of his mind when the clock strikes midnight. His other guests are either half-asleep, lulled by brandy and the late hour, or eagerly playing cards for the trinkets they received in their crackers. Enough. He takes his leave, wanting to roll his eyes at the hasty displays of respect and deference. No matter. He is free. A quick trip to fill up a plate from the abandoned dinner table, something for the road, as he jests with his escort. The palace is quiet when they traverse the corridors to his private chambers, their footsteps echoing ominously with nothing but a candelabra to light their way.

"I think I'll manage myself tonight," he tells his escort when they're outside his door. "Go sleep, I won't tell on you."

They put up the token protest, but still leave, hastening down the dark hallway while he lets himself in. The world feels more manageable inside. It's still a constant reminder of his privilege, of the opulence of his station, but it's his. No one can enter without his permission, no one can disturb him without just cause. Sometimes he wishes this was his entire kingdom.

Setting down the plate on his bed, he loosens the ascot, glad to be rid of the strangle-like hold around his neck. Off with the tailcoat, unbutton the waistcoat. Breathe.

Thunk.

He whips around, gaze falling on the large armoire in the corner. The silence that follows is deafening, but he knows what he heard. With a smile curling his lips, he swipes a treat off the plate, hiding it behind his back while he closes the distance, pulling the doors open in a rush, only for his ears to ring with a piercing shriek.

"Hush! Good god, you'll wake the entire wing, calm down! It's just me!"

The girl cowering into the corner of the armoire claps her hands over her mouth, eyes that had only moments ago been wide with fear now glaring at him as she breathes  through her nose to calm down. It’s strange, how his heart beats quicker, how the heaviness of his mind lightens under her fierce gaze. Years ago, they met by accident, he was still prince, young and cocksure, and she was, as she is now, a maid in the vast household that served his father the king. It wasn’t prudent, but he enjoyed giving her his attention, little flirtatious exchanges that somehow grew into a tender love with stolen kisses in hidden nooks. She has never asked for anything, much as he has offered to help her. She has declined promotions, slapped him for trying to sneak a small pouch of coins into her apron, made him promise not to do anything that would change her status in or outside the court.

He extends his hand to her, helping her up and out, twirling her around the room, making the skirt of her black dress flare around her, and his soul soars at the way her face settles into a sweet smile. With an exaggerated bow, he holds out his hand with the hidden treat, a sugar plum. She plucks it from her hand, delight colouring her features as she takes a small bite. 

“I thought you were…” she begins, swallowing before dropping her gaze, slipping the rest of the sugarplum into her apron pocket. “I wasn’t sure you were alone. I wasn’t… I wasn’t sure if you would come.”

They come to a halt by the window of his room, and instinctively, he positions his back to the window, protecting her presence with the frame of his body. This may be his private quarters, but the palace has eager eyes and ears.

“My mother.” 

It’s answer enough. Their love lives in the shadows, in the small kingdom of his room, in the hidden passages of the palace and with notes tucked into cracks only they know about. His heart aches, because she deserves so much more, wishes the world knew about this generous soul that holds his heart in her palms, whose smile lights up his presence even during his darkest days, who will take nothing but the reassurances of his affections and the kisses he bestows freely.

“I came as quickly as I could,” he adds, bringing up her hands to kiss her knuckles. They’re cold, worn from hard work, but he loves them as dearly as the rest of her.

“She knows.”

It’s simple. A statement, not a question, and her hands slide from his grip as she takes a step back.

“We don’t know that. She enjoys tormenting me, we’ve known that for quite some time. And even if she knows…” He closes the space between them again, wraps her up in his embrace, and nudges her chin to make her look at him. “Even if she knows, she won’t do anything overt. She can’t.”

“She’s the-” his love starts, eyebrows knit together, mouth set in a way that he knows she won’t let this go.

“She thinks she owns me. She thinks she controls me. In her eyes, I am as much a servant to her as anyone on staff. And I’m happy to let her keep her delusion, if it means I get to be with you, if it gives me time to…”

“To what?” she asks, tilting her head. “If it gives you time to do what, Bucky?”

To fight for that, he wants to say. His nickname, falling sweet from her lips and making him feel like a person. It’s a treasure from those happy childhood years, when he’d only hear it from his string of governesses and teachers, a concession to play pretend at a normal life. It felt like stepping out of a pleasant dream when he had to leave it behind, had to step into the heavy legacy of James, into the title of king. He looks at her, the only one to call him Bucky these days, and feels courage rise with the beating of his heart.

“To figure out a way for us to be together,” he tells her resolutely, continuing on his next breath. “We’ll go away, I’ll make sure we’ll have means to live until we can settle down. We’ll go far away, we’ll cross the sea if we have to.”

He twirls them around in a dance, away from the window, away from vulnerability of unseen eyes. Away. Gone. Together.

“Bucky…”

“We’ll live in a cottage, you and I. I’ll… I’ll learn a trade. I can tend horses. I can hunt. We’ll have a life that’s… that’s ours.”

“Buc- Your highness!”

The title cuts him down, poleaxes him and pulls him out of the dreams like someone has poured a vat of cold water on him. She’s no longer in his arms, once again removed, three solid paces between them, and she looks so small, so despairing, hands folded in front of her. This time, she finds her voice before he can find his.

“I can’t ask you to do that. You’re king. You… You have responsibilities. You have a realm that depends on you for guidance and rule. You can’t just… I’m no one. I’m not important. I’m- You are king, and kings marry queens and live happily ever after. I don’t fit into that story, your highness.”

He takes a step forward, she takes another step backwards. Even so, it hurts more to hear the way she talks about herself, makes herself small while he grows to something fabled and grand, when truth be told, he feels like all this time, he’s been walking on stilts and wearing a costume to hide the person he really is.

“Neither do I,” he starts, winces inwardly at how trite it sounds. “I didn’t want this. To be king, I mean. It’s not for me. I don’t care for politics and mind games, I don’t care for frivolousness and rigid customs. This is a prison to me. It’s beautiful, and grand, but it’s a gilded cage nonetheless. Outside this room, away from you, I am not myself. I am weak. I am a pawn in a game. My desires don't matter. You…” He takes a careful step forward, hope springing when she stays where she stands, “are everything I want. Everything I need.” Another step. “And I will do anything to be with you, anything to make this my story. I’ll bide my time, I’ll weigh my options, I’ll make every preparation, but one day…”

Another step. He’s back in front of her, and though she avoids his eyes, she’s not running, not putting distance back between them.

"Your highness…"

“My love,” he interrupts, offering her the depth and width of his affection, his voice low and ardent as he kneels before her, prostrating before the only person worthy of him. “My sweet, my… my everything. One day, I’ll find a way for us to be together.”

#Hidden Love #Bucky x reader #Bucky Barnes x reader #Victorian king!Bucky #maid!reader

[tumblingdowntheway2019]

Sleepless Nights, Part One (1).

Heelloooo my beautiful pps, how are we all today? Back again with another Head-Canon. 💪😎💕

So this one is when Donna is adopted by Lady Dimitriscu as a new daughter. This is based on the wonderful @charlottefairchildbranwell's story based on a couple of my Head-Canons. Go check check her out, charlottefairchildbranwell wrote some amazing and entertaining stories for them! Here is a link to one of them.

WARNING: BELOW THE CUT, THIS POST WILL CONTAIN TRIGGERS, MENTIONS OF DEPRESSION/PTSD/PANIC ATTACKS/GORE, CHILD TRAUMA, TRAUMATIC EVENTS, ETC.

I MAY NOT BE GOOD AT WRITING THESE THINGS, BUT EVEN THEN IT'S BETTER TO WARN YOU.

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

With that said, let's begin. Sorry in advance.

😭🙏

LADY DIMITRISCU'S P.O.V.

It had been over a year since Donna started living in Castle Dimitrescu. A full year since Mother Miranda's reign had come to an end.

Things have been going so well for the Doll Maker. She gained more confidence, can hold a conversation with her family and even the Winters' Family without the aid of Angie anymore.

The Lady of the Castle however, began noticing something strange happening with Donna lately. It was small things, but they became more noticeable as of late.

Donna has been more sluggish in her movements, making small and silly mistakes in her everyday tasks and had been spotted dozing off whilst in the middle of tasks or activities.

Lady Dimitrescu tried to ask many times if she was ok, but Donna has been dodging the questions. Her daughters and Angie noted that she was unable to sleep a full night the past few days, but hasn't explained why.

The fact that Angie doesn't have that usual strong mental connection to her closest friend is worrying. But Angie had mentioned at the beginning that these happen occasionally and it will pass soon enough.

DONNA'S P.O.V

It's happening again, she knew it was too good to be true. The nightmares are back with a vengeance.

Donna deliberately severed most of her connection with Angie as to not draw attention to herself. She hates it.

Those nightmares, no, memories? She can't tell now. They are just too real to tell.

The Doll Maker doesn't know what triggered this, but she didn't want to worry her family.

She tried to act normal in order to to fend off any suspicion, but she was just so tired. Mistakes over simple tasks have been more noticeable.

Naps are too and far between during the day. The Bat Trio had been trying to cheer her up, Donna's been doing her best to keep them happy. It was a good distraction for a while.

Unfortunately, the nightmares had been making sure that Donna didn't forget in the waking world.

LADY DIMITRISCU'S P.O.V

Lady Dimitriscu had been keeping a closer eye on her daughter. Made sure to be close by should anything happen.

She observed that Donna has been flinching at random shadows or reflections, dozing off with book in hand, nearly dropping it as she jerked herself up and shaking her head.

Something's wrong, but Donna won't speak about it and won't be forced to.

It had been like any other night, Angie decided to join in on a sleepover with the Bat Trio in the Dungeons.

They wanted to tell scary stories and those particular dungeons was always warm enough for them to stay down there.

It had been in the middle of the night, The Lady had been reading one of the many books, ones that she had read many times before.

She was about to turn the oil lantern off when the sound of breaking glass caused her hand to freeze just inches from the dial.

Sharpening her sense, Alcina close her eyes to allow her to focus more on her hearing.

Quiet hitches of breathing was heard.

DONNA'S P.O.V

The Doll Maker woke with a start, it hasn't even been an hour yet. She couldn't even hold onto Angie as she allowed the Bride Doll to go hang out with Bela, Cassandra and Daniela.

It felt all too real. It started off pleasant enough. Donna was in House Beneviento again, opening the door revealed her mother in a rocking chair, knitting.

Donna approached her, hesitant to reach out to the unaware woman.

A call of another girl caught their attention. They look up to see a teenage girl, who was the spitting image of a younger Donna.

"Bernadette?" She quietly says.

Bernadette comes skipping down, unaware of her younger sister's presence as she skips down the stairs and through Donna, as if she were made of mist.

Donna turns to see Bernadette skip off to meet her friends in the village. Their mother calling after her to be sure to return home before the sun begins to set.

In her near forgotten instinct, The Doll Maker silently makes her way to the elevator.

When she entered the elevator, the button was level with her elbow. Something that came in handy as she was always carrying materials that requires both hands to hold.

The elevator reached the basement, she found that everything was bigger than before.

As she walked down the hallway, Donna barely caught her reflection off the glass cabinet. The bottom of the glass was just at eye level.

Upon looking at her reflection, a young girl stared back with her two (2) dark brown eyes. She was a little girl again, maybe no older than seven (7) years old?

She continued to the end of the hallway and through one of the double doors and found her father hunched over one of his latest creations.

Donna knew what was about to happen next, it didn't surprise her any more. She begins to back away as her father slowly sets down his tools.

"Why?" He hoarsely croaked out as dripping sounds were heard. "Why did you do this to us?"

Donna tried to push against the shut door with all her might, but her small frame barely made it budge.

She looked over her shoulder, gasping and began to shake as her father's bloated corpse stood up slowly, movements strongly resembling a puppet being pulled by their strings.

Small waterfalls were coming through the walls and ceiling as father trudged through the ankle deep water.

With one final charge, Donna finally burst through the door and makes a bee-line toward the elevator. The water rising all around her.

Streams of water burst through the ceiling in many spots. Some appearing with such force in front of her that Donna nearly lost her footing on a few occasions.

Her father close behind in his pursuits as the water appeared to allow him to glide in the rising water.

The water was now at the young girl's knees by the time she reached the elevator.

How did the button get so high up?!

After many frantic attempts, Donna successfully jumps up and up against the elevator's wall to press the button.

The grated door shuts, her father's blue, bloated corpse stared at her with angry bloodshot eyes as he slammed and pulled against the grate.

The water descending and emptying the higher the elevator went. Leaving behind a mostly soaked to the bones Donna.

The elevator dutifully opens on the ground floor, Donna reluctantly steps out. The Doll Maker once again knows what's coming next as she trekked through the hallway.

Opening the door to the Living Room, she found her Mother, standing and looking at the ground with a sharpened out knitting needles in each hand.

Eyes filled with rage look up at her as her mother raises her head, voiceless as her mother's mouth moved. But she heard it so many times before that Donna knew what she was saying.

"Your fault."

"Your fault."

"Your fault."

Barely able to dodge the sudden attack, Donna sprints to the front door. Last obstacle.

Bernadette, now aged twenty-one (21) was now blocking the entrance.

END OF PART ONE (1)

_____________________

Edit: Heyo pps, edited some errors, finished the last point and took away the extra blank ones to helps space it out better. Tags were also added in.

A/N - You guys are gonna laugh, I didn't intend on posting this until later. I accidentally posted it before the last point (Bernadette being at the entrance) was done and no tags. 🤣🤣

But I am glad I did, however. Cause this would have been so much longer and I didn't want to bore you guys with so many points. So a part two (2) will be out later on, either tonight or tomorrow. 🤔 Sorry about that. 🤣

Hope you all enjoyed Part One (1) of 'Sleepless Nights.'

Remember, if you wish to use this or the ideas/H.Cs mentioned above, you are always free to do so under the conditions that you credit back to this and myself. That and to please tag me when you are done because I would love to see how it was able to help you out in your stories/art!!

💪😎💕

Hope you all have a wonderful day/afternoon/evening my lovelies!💪😎💕

Part Two (2) linked here! 💕🥰💕

#donna beneviento #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #resident evil #video games #angie beneviento #daniela dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #headcanon #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #family dynamic #angst

[aio-rya]

"Give me a sign" — Leona x reader

One shot requested by: Anon

『Btw anon, I'm sorry I didn't have the Anon mode on until like two days ago.』

Days kept going on as [y/n] started being fond of everyone they met at NRC, specially the Braincell Squad along Epel, Jack and yeah, Sebek, who sometimes joined them too. Most of the time, when they were not causing trouble at their dorms, they gathered at Ramshackle for "studying". Though there was one day a week [y/n] used to sneak out, following Epel around to his Magift practice.

The last time they saw a game was when they were hit conveniently by the disc thanks to Grimm's movements, but [y/n] was not really interested on the game, oh no —those getaways were to see someone. Indeed, the same person why they lurked around Savanaclaw with Jack by the end of the day. And everything was fine until...

"What the hell are you doing here, herbivore?" the lion man asked behind them. [Y/n] froze right there, crouched behind one of the seats of the bleachers.

Did I forget telling that [Y/n] felt Leona doesn't like them? Well, now you know.

"I... Epel" they answered nervously and without context, putting a strand of their [h/c] hair behind their ear. "He forgot his water bottle and..."

"Tsk. Whatever you are doing here, do it fast and go away" he interrupted, rolling his eyes and passing by them as if that never happened.

And this was the day to day of [y/n] and Leona whenever they got to see each other. The matter was that he, Leona Kingscholar himself, felt sort of intimidated by the little human —why? He didn't know. It was sort of an allergic reaction or something, he felt his heart beat harder, his cheeks burning hot like feber, sort of a knot on his stomach and words flew away from his head.

"Hey, Kingscholar! I... Brought you these" [y/n] said as they extended him two special meat sandwiches from the cafeteria.

Leona turned around on his napping spot, looking at the human, then at the food and then, he turned around again, giving his back to the little one, who still held the sandwiches towards him.

"I Don't need them..." the lion said, and dismissed them with a movement of his hand, "Ruggie has already brought me something".

"I... I See" the human said, withdrawing his hand. "Then... You're gone. Again" they sighed while realising Leona's breath got a slower pace, he was asleep. There was nothing to do but leave; said and done.

Lucky was the big cat that they've already left when his ears twitched on signal that he was not sleeping, his eyes slightly opened, listening to the human voice with a trace of worry left behind. "It couldn't be sadness, or is it?" he told himself, turning to face the glass ceiling of the Botanical Garden with his hands behind his head.

"You really dismissed [y/n]'s food? They even fought with me for that since there were only three of those things left, ya'now?" Ruggie's voice snapped him out of his trance as the hyena threw a packed meat sandwich over his stomach. Then he heard a wrapper being opened as he sat down, looking at his friend at the moment he bite a sandwich —exactly the same like the one he threw at him a few seconds ago.

Ruggie realized about that and stopped, "What?" he asked towards Leona, still munching a piece of sandwich, when the lazy lion lifted a finger pointing directly to the food. "I'm not giving it to you" he stated in a possesive tone, holdingh tighter his food.

"It's not that” the dorm leader growled, “But... You said there were only three left..." Leona mumbled, unwrapping his food and starting to bite it too.

"Oh yeah, [y/n] gave it to me when I passed them back on the front gate of the Garden. They only needed one for his raccoon friend, even though, they got the other one for you” he continued munching while explaining the ruckus they caused on the cafeteria for those limited dishes. "Hey Leona!" Ruggie snapped his fingers in front of him "Are you okay? It's not like you to space out that obviously."

"I think I'm sick" he reflected out loud while making a pitch of his empty wrapper to the rubbish.

"I think you're lazy~ shishishishi"

"Don't go too smart" Leona shot him a wry look and sighed. "I think I'm allergic to that herbivore or something like that."

"What? C'mon, you're not serious" Ruggie sneered. Leona grunted, "Okay then, why do you think that?"

"Because..." He turned away, aware of his blush. "When [y/Ln] is near, my chest aches and I feel as I wanted to cough; also my stomach feels strange, as if I were hungry but also anxious? And there is this thing on my face... I run a fever every time that herbivore is near...."

"Buuuut~"

"But I like its smell. Or its presence" he finished with nothing more than a whisper.

"I see!" the hyena almost shouted, starting the lion, "You love them."

"Another joke like that and you're gone" he stared at Bucchi, angry but ashamed.

"Oh man... I'm just being honest" the blonde shrugged starting to walk away, "do as you wish but be careful. I don't how for how long [y/n] is going to bear you."

"Maybe he was tired", Deuce tried, quietly.

"Told you", Ace seconded him. "He's just like that, you cannot change him and... Have you thought that maybe he just doesn't like you? I mean like... Around him as he do with anyone else?"

"He was nice once" [y/n] tried to bring as an excuse, "After the Blot thing, he was someway nice. But... I did something wrong?"

Jack shook his head, "You should forget him. He's not the one, and I'm sorry about this but Ace is right..."

"Can I record that?" Trappola laughed, trying to open the camera of his phone.

"Shut up" Howl snapped, joining the laugh while hugging the little non-magic human between them.

"I think I can handle it. I mean... Nothing lasts forever and this little scratches heal with time" they tried to smile, eyes teary.

"Hey, we're here!" Epel cheered, "if you need to cry, to talk or you just want to mess around a little, call us!"

"That's why I call you my friends" and finally, the genuine smile appeared, "I'll sleep on it, I swear".

And both of them did: Kingscholar and [y/Ln]. Unfortunately, they reached two very opposite conclusions.

The little herbivore began to let go of their feelings, now they were no longer around Savanaclaw or the Magift training or even on the third years classrooms, they were free. Of course it still hurted whenever someone mentioned Leona, or at the Dorm Leader meetings or even when he was lurking around the cafeteria. Specially the last one was odd of the lion, and everyone around him noticed —even Vil started asking around what in hell happened to him.

"Ah, Ruggie-san" he said with velvety voice.

"Prefect Schoenheit" blonde hyena answered.

"Is Leona okay? He has been... Nicer than usual"

"Ah, you too. In fact, he's not really fine. His heart is about to break" Ruggie said, a bit worried as Vil gasped, not as an act but in genuine surprise, "his herbivore grew tired of him..."

Well, you see... Since [y/n] started getting rid of their unrequited love, Leona accepted it. And now it hurted so bad every time he got to see his herbivore: there was no "H-hey Leona..." or "Hello Kingscholar!" or any kind of cheerful greetings, everything tuned into a cold "Good morning/afternoon, Prefect Kingscholar", "Excuse me, Prefect Kingscholar" —they even stopped bumping into him, no more visits to his napping spot at the Botanical Garden and even when they got to Magift practice, Epel will always arrive alone. The knot in his stomach and the fever on his cheeks turned into a harsh pain on his throat and a burning heat on his eyes.

Meanwhile, Braincell Squad and first years club was proud, their little human finally was free and not depressed by the mistreatment of the Prince.

A couple of months passed until one evening, after clases, [y/n] made their way back to Ramshackle when heard someone sobbing, that scared them since Epel was having a hard time. By following the noise, they bumped into Leona and immediately tried to avoid him, but the lazy lion was not that slow; he walked quickly and grabbed their shoulders.

"Please, stop avoiding me" he said, not bothering on hiding the trembling of his voice.

"I... I am not" they said slowly, "Pref--"

"Don't" he grunted painfully, "Come back to call me Leona with that lively loud voice. Wake me up from my naps again, stare at me in the hallway so I can stare at you when you look away..." He sobbed again, weakening his grip, about to let his arms fall, "I... I am sorry."

"Why... Why are you apologising?" they asked, turning around to face him.

"Because I treated you so bad, and I... Thought I had an allergic reaction... To you" Leona whispered, [y/n] giggled.

"As far as I know, you cannot be allergic to a human" then they caressed one of Leona's braids, he stared at their [e/c] eyes, a pale gleam reflected on them. "It's fine, don't worry. We can still be friends".

He shook his head and caught them between his arms.

"I have denied it for too long. You deserve more, I was so mean, but I don't want to be just a friend" he explained tenderly, burying his nose on their hair, aspiring its sweet perfume.

"Leona, I'm not sure--"

"Just give me a sign..."

Silence. They just stayed like that, holding each other, [y/n] biting his bottom lip as Leona rubbed their back. When he finally was ready, understanding the situation and letting go of them, he got interrupted by a hold on his collar.

Then, a soft, sweet and warm pair of lips slammed against his.

It was a kiss full of fear and sadness that slowly turned into a gentle one. Full of untold feelings that tangled and finally were silently confessed.

"Is this enough?" the human asked, caressing his lover's cheek.

"It is more than enough... My loved herbivore".

—・ Φ・—

I melted with Leona's soft side, I don't know where I got the inspiration but I felt this took too long. Hope you like it too!

«Please do not repost or translate without permission»

#ツイステ #ツイステッドフンダラーンド #twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland leona #leona kingscholar #leona x reader #レオナ・キングスカラー #aio-rya

[calithso]

Two of my MCs for @lemonade-if. It's been a while since I posted anything related to IFs... well, it's been a while since I posted anything really lmao so apologies if my art has been changing constantly (i don't have an official art style yet i think)

I couldn't choose who to draw between these two so why not both?

MC descriptions and more under the cut.

Haruki Atsumi is a soft and charming (even though he doesn't realize) guy but he also wouldn't hesitate to smack a bitch with a smile on his face. Half bowl cut Haruki's blue hair color was almost his official hair color until I changed it to pink just because I wanted to lmao. Although charming, he has no interest in dating anyone yet. He's reluctant because of his parents' divorce. If they can't find their happy ending, how would he find his? So, onto his ROs. I didn't know if his RO should be Yosuke or Yuushin since I'm a sucker for stoic fictional men so Yosuke is an obvious choice, plus I like slow burns. But Yuushin's route seems interesting. Just the thought of gentle, pretty boy Haruki falling for the whole bad boy thing Yuushin has going on. If I can't choose one then why not try both? Also, I may try romancing Akane too because their dynamic seems cute. All the ROs are so good I can't just choose one, man 😭

"Atsumi is a good-looking guy. Whenever he passes by in the hallways, heads will turn. He's also always helping students and teachers around the school after class until the sun is gone and even then, he's still looking around for someone who needs help. Makes me wonder if he's trying to delay going home..."

"He always has a smile on his face. Although, I remember walking past an empty classroom when I saw Atsumi-san inside, looking out the window with a solemn look on his face. It worried me – still does, actually – but I didn't approach him since I felt like he needed some space. I do hope he's alright."

———————————————————————————

Mitsuki Miyano will hesitate to smack a bitch. She has a kind face and a soothing voice (no, she does not sing) but she's just like Yosuke, aloof and stoic but soft-hearted. She's not lazy, she's actually quite the academic but she doesn't want to attend P.E. because she just doesn't like moving around much. She looks tall but trust me, she's not lmao. She actually may be more alike to Shion than I would like. If their dynamic doesn't work out then I'll have to change Mitsuki's personality to something a little more smiley or something softer? idk but I hope ya'll get the idea.

"Miyano...? Ah, the new kid! She's kind enough to help people when asked but she'll never do things on her own. She always looks busy and seems troubled by something. I remember that one time I saw her slacking off during P.E. in one of the classrooms. She was staring at a table in front of her and she had this sad look on her face like she was about to cry."

"Miyano-chan is a no-nonsense type of person and she constantly has this bored look in her eyes but she has a gentle appearance, right? It's because she is. Past the hard exterior is a kind and sweet girl who just wants friends. Even her voice will soothe you to sleep. She could never hurt a fly. One time, we were walking home from school when she suddenly crouched down to pet a stray puppy. It was the first time I ever saw her smile so brightly... her smile is really pretty."

Ngl I really didn't try that hard to find Mitsuki a more suitable voice since my energy was spent finding a perfect voice for Haruki, like I had a whole pad of paper out to list down potential voices for him so for a whole day I compared them and eliminated the ones that I didn't think suited him. So, when it was time to find a voice for Mitsuki I just said, "She's calm. Saori Hayami."

i'm really bad at this 💀

#lemonadeif #my oc #haruki atsumi #mitsuki miyano #my art #just realized their thoughts thingy are both similar 😭 #this took unnecessarily longer than expected #but finally we're done

[poormeowmeowcollector]

Call Me Bucky

Pairing: Bucky/Steve, Bucky/Loki

Warnings: labguage, alcohol, smoking

Summary: On the incoming party, Bucky decides to ask Steve for a dance, but is in need for a teacher.

Read on AO3

When Tony announced that he's organising a huge party at the end of the month, most Avengers were excited. But Bucky sees an opportunity to finally show Steve what his true feelings are. He could ask him for a dance when Tony starts playing the ballads, and say what he feels and then kiss him right in front of everyone, no matter if they're accepted or not. It will be perfect.

But, on the same evening as Tony made the party official, and after five songs from Bucky's phone, he came to a devastating conclusion. He hasn't danced since the '40s, and he has forgotten how to. And self tutoring is not going to work on him, he has tried it enough times to know that.

The very next day, while they were all sparing with each other, Bucky takes time to notice their movements. And Loki got his attention. He knows very well how much stronger they are, compared to people and even super-soldiers. But his movements were not plain and brutal, like Thor's. They were shifty, fast, always standing on their toes and ready to leap in any direction.

As if they were dancing.

Loki is a prince, he was taught how to dance, and he has danced in balls and celebrations on Asgard. Yes, they can get a little impatient and hella snappy, but Bucky's a fast learner and one of the few without a bad history with them. Technically it could work.

After the training, and after a considerable number of people had left the gym, Bucky takes a deep breath and decides to "all so coincidentally" place his duffel bag right beside Loki's and sit on his left to "take a breath".

"Did the serum wear off, James, or am I delusional?" Loki huffs, trying to hide the exhaustion from taking on Thor and Wanda while training. Bucky grins, gazing at Bruce leaving them finally alone.

"Actually, I have to ask you a favour. And it has to be between us," he turns towards them and pins his blue eyes on their green ones. His stomach twists when Loki smirks.

"A secret… I'm intrigued, what do you want?" he snarls out the words, reminding Bucky of a talking snake. It doesn't help at all with the sudden nervousness he got.

"I, em… well, it's about the party. I want to ask Steve to dance and…" he doesn't fail to notice Loki's smirk shrinking and the fire in their eyes going out when hearing Steve's name. "And, I don't remember how to dance, can you teach me a slow dance?" he asks, pleading Loki with just his eyes.

"Fine, I shall," Loki sighs out before answering, reviving some of that flame he had in his eyes. Bucky has to restrain himself against hugging them since he knows how much they hate physical contact.

"Loki, you're a treasure! I owe you a big one!" Bucky smiles from ear to ear, not considering to appear professional and serious. Luckily, Loki just scoffs at the image.

"Don't mention it. Find me on my champers, tomorrow after the training," he brushes off Bucky's reaction, pretending that his cheeks haven't gotten a pinkish undertone. Bucky nods and thanks Loki again as they walk out and get separated in the hallways to their rooms.

~~~

After the training, Bucky takes his time to wash the sweat out before the dancing lessons. He'll be at a hugging distance to Loki, he doesn't want to skink. So, he uses whatever fancy soap he has stolen from a mission's hotel, tidies down the crazy long hair of his and wears something casual, to appear that he didn't get through all this for Loki, before finally going to their room.

He knocks on Loki's door soon after, waiting for a long second before it opens. "Oh, come on in," he opens the door further and moves aside to make space.

It's the first time Bucky has walked into Loki's room. Knowing Loki themselves, he did expect it to be as green and gold as it is, as full with books and other shit they got from Asgard, and even though it's full, as clean and tidy. The windows are open, he probably made them bigger without informing someone, and some scented candles are lit, trying to hide the obvious smell of cigarettes in the room.

Someone is not anxious at all about being forced into a loud and crowded room for hours. It makes him wonder if they had enough courage to attend balls on Asgard and therefore learn how to dance.

"You do know how to dance, right?" He asks, ignoring the stupid feeling of needing to ask this now.

"I'm one of the best dancers in Asgard, you can ask Thor if you don't believe me," they smirk and lean against a table, Bucky knows they're hiding an ashtray. "Should we discuss what dance you'd like to learn? We only have one month, after all," he nods at the table he's sitting on, hiding the ashtray with magic.

"I told you, something slow and romantic," Bucky answers, deciding to pretend that he doesn't know.

"So, waltz? It's the only slow dance I know, unfortunately, Æsir music is mostly epic and the dances are more energetic. But, I learned how to dance the waltz when it was at its peak, you'll still learn something," they explain, searching for some validation. Bucky nods and smiles.

"Waltz it is. Come on, let's start," he comes to the centre of the room. Loki releases a low hum and follows Bucky. "Friday, play some suitable music, dear," they gaze at the corner of the ceiling, smiling when a soft violin fills the room with its song.

"I'll lead first, then you'll lead. Try to move your weight from foot to foot, and never use the same foot twice," he advises Bucky before walking close, too close. They take their time to take Bucky's right hand and hold it upwards with theirs, their own right hand holding his waist. "Hold me like I hold you, James, and don't break eye contact. Eye contact is the reason we hold each other like this,"

When the song allows, Loki takes a step forward, making Bucky mirror the step. Then, they take a step to the side and then the feet meet. Loki repeats the steps, harmonized with the slow violin, and counts the steps to help Bucky.

Bucky starts feeling like they're managing the steps when Loki's chanting changes from a repeated "and one, and two and three," to an "og eitt, og tvö, og þrjú,", low like a whisper to the point where Bucky feels the purring on Loki's chest from the speaking more than he hears the words.

The violin stops, and Loki freezes in his position, right where they began dancing. "Well?" Bucky asks, his heart hammering. Loki's a perfectionist, if they're satisfied with the dance, Steve will be mesmerized by it.

"You are impressive. Should we try the same with switched roles?" he hums, afraid to break the moment with his voice. Bucky nods as the song starts again.

He knows when to step forward, how to count the steps and how to lead Loki in the magical loop they have created. He doesn't need to focus as much this time and gazes at Loki's eyes since they're the closest thing.

The greens and blues swirl in the small ring, creating the illusion that you gaze at a shallow sea or a morass, so indifferent to Steve's clear ocean blue eyes but just as hypnotising. Faint lines crack in the edges as Loki smirks and licks their thin rosy lips, almost like they're expecting Bucky to do something.

Loki is the one to break the position by taking some steps back, clearing his throat and gazing at the window as Friday stops the music. "I think that's enough for today. You're very good at it, by the way… tomorrow, around the same time?" they barely hold back the stutter, but let their fingers fidget with each other. Bucky nods, wearing the smirk Loki is known for.

"Whatever you say, pretty boy," he smirks and winks, leaving Loki a stuttering and blushing mess as he leaves.

~~~

Every day, they would do the dancing lessons. And Bucky would get better.

When Loki was demonstrating and leading, everything would flow smoothly. He was giving instructions, counting the steps and when trying to get Bucky to learn them, he would always shift the counting from English to Old Norse. And Loki was eager to keep the smoothness when Bucky was leading. But the soldier was fast to catch on to Loki's growing nervousness and fading energy.

So, they decided to do a sum up the day of the party, just to make sure. Loki was gone the whole day but didn't cancel the lesson, so Bucky finds himself outside their door.

He has been in that room every day for a month, why would he bother knocking, especially since he's on time for the lesson.

He finds Loki sitting on the table near the door, one hand holding his head, which is hidden underneath a hoodie to stop the hair from smelling, and one holding a cigarette. And, Jesus Christ, they look like a mess.

"Oh, J-James! I'm sorry, I… em, please don't tell anyone," he begs, trying to extinguish the smoke. Loki is supposed to have quitted about eighteen weeks ago, but the fact that Thor is still alive is proof that it was just a bunch of bullshit to get the others out of his arse.

"It's fine, your secret is safe with me. Hey, are you feeling okay, you don't look so peachy," Bucky sits on Loki's left, getting a better look at their sleepless eyes and greasy hair.

"Yes, had a bad night, that's all. And, I don't think I'll attend the party. I'm sorry, I know we were preparing for this for weeks but…" he stops to take a long sip of his smoke, turning the smoke green as he exhales and forcing it away from Bucky. "Since I have come here, the people staring have been more difficult to handle and Stark puts his damn noise too loud and I'm having a very bad day," they regret speaking instantly, but the bitching meets only two understanding pale eyes.

"It's fine, you don't have to come. Stay here and rest, I'll update you tomorrow on the dance. You already did so much," Bucky places his right hand on the table, waiting for permission before touching Loki. He never gets it.

"Thank you, James… Do you still want to do the sum up? You have some patriotic hearts to steal," they smirk, just a dim shimmer of their characteristic glow in their eyes. Moments afterwards, they're in position and ready to dance.

"I apologize for the smell," Loki whispers, avoiding looking Bucky in the eyes. "And, if you wouldn't mind skipping the music for today?" he adds, voice still dead and small.

"No problem, in neither," Buck shrugs and takes a step forward, leading Loki to the imaginary dance floor.

After a few rounds and some turns, Buck feels Loki humming a low tune. "What are you humming, it sounds nice," he asks, never stopping the dance, or the search for eye contact.

"An old Æsir song, a love ballad," they don't dare to speak louder than a whisper, as if the atmosphere will cease to exist.

"What is it about?"

"A stables boy being in love with a lady. She likes another lord and he thinks that if he helps her win the lord's heart, he'll enter hers. He's wrong, the nobles end up together in the end,"

The pattern is clear as day. Could Loki mean-? No, he hasn't shown any interest to any teammate. Yet, here they are slow dancing with one…

"Maybe you should rest… you're a good teacher, I can handle. Thank you for everything," Bucky lets Loki go and takes a step back. He looked like a mess earlier, he deserves some rest.

"Of course," Loki answers, watching as Bucky leaves. "And James?" he snaps right before Bucky turns away, making him pop his head back in. "You're an excellent student," they twist their lips upwards, before ending the lessons.

~~~

After some drinks, Bucky decides it's time. He didn't need the drinks for confidence, he can't get drunk anyway, but only to pretend he needs them. Still, he walks closer to Steve, internally repeating the steps, and smiling when the ballads start playing.

"Hey, Steve, I wanna ask you something," Bucky asks, already prepared for Steve's hypnotising blue to stare at him.

"Yes, what is it?"

"You see, I was thinking… would you like to dance?" he offers the most charming smile he can manage as he asks, his heart hammering. He's met with a cold, pitying look.

"Buck, buddy, I'm sorry," Steve does say, but does not mean. Bucky holds it together and nods as he walks away and to the balcony, ignoring another set of pale eyes, staring at the scene from the shadows.

What exactly did Bucky expect? He's been friends with Steve since before the war, just because his feelings changed it doesn't mean that Steve has followed this path, or even is to follow it. But he just had to go there and ruin both the potential of a relationship and the only friendship he has left. Magnificent, just fucking magnificent!

Buck doesn't realise when he starts taking all the frustration out on the railing, but he soon feels the metal bending under his hands. Steps approach him, steps he recognises with his eyes closed.

"Your song was wrong, you know," Bucky scoffs, turning around and watching Loki as they stride on the balcony before leaning against the rail beside him.

He looks better than he did on the course, probably an illusion.

"I suppose… I'm sorry, things turned out this way, you deserve better," Loki whispers, but still means those words more than Steve ever could.

From inside, a song plays. Bucky used to play this one when practising on his own, imagining that Steve was dancing with him. Well, after a few days, Steve was not the only imaginary partner.

"Will you dance with me to this song?" he asks, without thinking about it. Loki freezes, questions rising before melting away with a smile and a soft yes.

Cold metal fingers cross with cold flesh ones as they fix their positions. They change the leader every few rounds, not needing to say when and never letting the soft steps across the balcony stop or slow down. Bucky's eyes stay pinned on Loki's, watching as the soft smile on their lips reach them and make them glow with something far away from the characteristic naughtiness.

They don't understand how fast the song ends, so they keep dancing even though the next one is not suitable.

"James," Loki sighs, trying to say something but also wanting this to never stop.

"Call me Bucky," he answers, smiling just so.

The dance comes to a halt when Bucky gets pinned against the wall, his lips attacked by Loki's. And he would be a fool if he didn't respond with the same passion.

~~~~~~

Taglist: @lucywrites02 @electroma89 @the-emo-asgardian

#steve/bucky #Bucky/Loki #Loki/Bucky #bucky/steve #unrequited love #not actually unrequited love #loki fluff #fluff #bucky fluff #angst #loki angst #bucky angst #bucky and loki #waltz #dancing #slow dancing #smoking #tw language #tw alcohol #marvel fanfiction #fanfic #marvel fanfic #marvel fic #loki mcu #marvel angst #marvel fluff #gay mlm

[nymphigeon]

Someone you love(d) || KTH

• Pairing: Taehyung x Reader(f)

• Genre: break up au, angst with a happy ending, fluff? (just a lil' bit at the end :))

• Rating: PG

• Words: 7.2k

• Warnings: swearing, mention of weight, they kiss like once, if you don't like cheesy things....skip this one lmao

• Summary: You thought he loved you, you really did, but the way he left told you something else.

Or alternatively;

Taehyung is an emotionally constipated idiot who doesn't know how to deal with his feelings.

• A/N: Okay it took me waaay too long to write this, I'm so sorry T_T I really wanted to get this out earlier, but well things happened....

I only proofread this like once and had some trouble getting everything into the post properly so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes!  Please let me know if you find any so I can fix them asap.

Thank you for the request @mytaetaey​! I hope it matches your expectations!!!

It honestly hasn't even been that long since the day he showed up at my house.

"Let’s break up."

Although I really wouldn't be able to tell you how much time had truly passed.

"W-wait why?"

Days felt like weeks, weeks felt like months. Everything just seemed to last a lot longer than it should have.

"Did I do something wrong? I-I can fix it, just tell me!"

It might have happened last week, or the week before that. Wasn't it three weeks ago?

"No, no you didn't do anything wrong y/n. I'm sorry this just isn't working out."

Bottom line is, the passing of time hasn't really been on my mind. Any day without him is a day lost, a day to forget about.

"What do you mean this isn’t working out? I thought we were doing well together..."

I remember the confusion that went through me. All of a sudden the four years we spent together seemed to have disappeared.

“You thought wrong.”

He had been acting weird for a while, never quite getting close to telling me what was going through his mind. I hadn’t anticipated it ever ending like this though.

“Not everything you believe is a fact.”

The years I had to get to know him ended too soon. They went by so fast, they might as well have been non-existent.

"I... why? I don’t understand…

This all came too sudden. Just a few days before he had been laying on my bed, smiling as I told him about my day.

"I just don't feel the same anymore."

I just needed a little more time. A little more time to adore him. A little more time to say goodbye.

"I don't love you anymore."

But I still did do. He didn’t seem to care though. After he took care of me for a while, he decided I’m not worth it. Not even as someone who he just passes by.

"It's best if we don't see each other anymore."

If you cherish what you have you'll never be left unsatisfied.

"Goodbye."

I did. And it broke me.

“Y/n? Helloooo?”

My daydreams get interrupted by a waving hand in front of my face, followed by a harsh flick against my forehead.

“Ouch! Mina that was too hard!” Both my hands shoot up to the stinging spot between my eyes, one to prevent the evil hand from handing out another flick, the other one to rub at the red spot forming.

“Class ended a few minutes ago, you should probably pack up. Really, did you just stare off into space for the entire class?” Spotting my close to empty notebook, Mina sighs and shakes her head. She’s trying to look disappointed, but under the scolding exterior she’s putting on, there is a hint of pity.

It’s not the first time this week that not a single word has made it into my notes. Each time again the pages are either filled with lazy doodles and meaningless scribbles, or a space of absolute nothingness, not even a drop of ink staining the white paper.

“I’m sorry, I really did try to pay attention, but you know I hate his classes with a passion.” We both know that’s not the reason for my absentness, and neither of us speaks up about it. It’s what I requested myself, not being able to cope with the sadness I was causing my friends to feel. They care too much, I don’t want to burden them for too long.

“I know sweetheart, you did do your best. I’ll send my notes later, if you want I’ll help you understand them too.” Though no matter how hard I try, I still rely on them. They keep convincing me to, their kind souls not being able to leave me alone.  “If you could I’d really appreciate it.”

A sweet smile appears on Mina’s lips as I accept her offer, being more than happy to help me. She has always been the type to give more than she received, and despite me believing she deserves more than she gets, I adore her for it. “Of course, any time.”

I finish packing my belongings into my backpack, first making sure I didn’t leave anything behind before leaving the classroom with Mina close to my side. She talks about everything and nothing as we roam the spacious hallways filled with tired looking students. I wouldn’t be surprised if more than half of them slept until the end of their lectures.

Most of Mina’s words fall on deaf ears as I think back to the thoughts that occupied my mind the entire time my teacher was trying to explain the principle of quantum mechanics. I wouldn’t have understood it regardless of whether I was paying attention or not by the way.

“Ah you don’t have any more classes today, do you?” An unannounced weight falls on my left side as Mina whines into my shoulder, effectively bringing me back down to earth. Some brabbles about life being unfair escape the muffled sounds she produces, clearly not looking forward to the rest of her day.

“I’m going to be so lonely, me and Daeun aren’t allowed to sit next to each other anymore.” Mina raises her head to catch some air, her hands still clinging to the fabric of my shirt. The scowl on her face isn’t hard to miss, as she isn’t doing much to hide it.

“I was just going to head home straight away.” On any other day I would’ve probably teased her, wishing her good luck while I go and enjoy the free life. Today however, I don’t. My face stays in it’s boring resting position, even as Mina waits for the non-existent twist at the end.

It doesn’t take long before she finally sees I’m not poking fun at her. The moment of realization is clear, her whiny expression disappearing and her hands falling back to her sides. “Oh.”

“Well since it’s Friday how about I come hang out at your place when I’m done here? I’ll drag Daeun along with me too.” Mina’s voice is unsure, scared that I’ll reject her offer. A thick tension hangs in the air as we both wait for my reply.

I want to be alone. I want to be able to overthink in peace without others insisting that my mind is wrong. Though on the other side, I do know that I’ve been pushing them away. All the more reason for them to worry about me.

“Yeah sure.” I manage to convince myself to decide on the option I’d like the least. Somewhere I may be hoping that I’ve been missing out on a distraction I needed. I will never know until I experience it.

“Great! I’ll bring snacks too, let’s make it a movie night!” And off she goes, not waiting for any kind of confirmation from my side. Most likely it’s a way to keep me from refusing, forcing me into a situation that’s best for me, according to her.

I might not be looking forward to the events to come, but even I can’t deny the dull blossoming of my heart. The corners of my lips tug up, together with a hand to wave the girl off.

Yeah, perhaps, just maybe, I’m excited to spend some time with them.

I wasted a lot of time trying to figure out what’s wrong with me. Did I gain too much weight? Did I not text him enough? Was I going down the wrong path?

No matter what I wrote down, which new question I thought of, it didn’t seem right. Crumpled up paper balls and clothes littering the apartment show of the frustration occupying my mind.

No aspect of me changed for the worse. I’m still the same healthy weight, we texted almost every day, and I’m running up the path to a successful career. There is nothing wrong with me, so why am I blaming myself so heavily?

Because for some reason I believe that if I had done things differently the outcome would have been better. Because maybe he would’ve changed his mind if I reacted differently. Because it could never be him who was in the wrong.

A knock on the door and the pen I had been holding drops. Focussing on the paper in front of me once more, the harsh worded sentences ending in large written question marks stand out. I’m yearning for answers to questions I don’t even understand myself and it’s terrifying.

Three knocks on the door this time and I’m up, quickly discarding all the papers littering around. Some I tear to pieces, making sure none of the written sentences are visible anymore, others simply get hidden.

The door creaks as it opens, broadcasting it’s old age to the world. I should probably replace it sometime before someone decides to break in. Not that there’s anything worth taking here, I am a student after all.

“Hey dea- Oh no you look horrible.” A slight gasp interrupts Daeun’s cheery greeting when she notices the birds nest that is my hair. After having acted out all my annoyance on the poor strands, they’ve taken to each other for comfort, gladly intertwining. To my dismay, of course.

“I feel horrible. Come in.” The chuckle meant to lighten the statement doesn’t do it’s job properly. Both don’t say anything more as they enter the tiny apartment I call home, but they might as well have been screaming ‘I feel sorry for you.’” If they won’t do it, their faces definitely will.

“I won’t let any of you chose a movie tonight, I’ve got way too many good ideas.” Mina drops the overfilled bags she was holding on the dinner table while she talks. From the few items that stick out it’s safe to deduce that they’re filled with snacks to the brim.

“Also I was thinking we could order some pizza for dinner. All on me, I just got payed.” Like she owns the place, Mina reaches for several bowls high up in the cupboards of the kitchen. “We’ll use these tonight..” She says it more so to herself than to anyone else, not bothering to ask me anything. Not that it was really needed, I would have given her permission anyway.

“How was your day?” Sitting down next to Daeun, who has made herself comfortable on the couch after walking in, I try to start a basic conversation. Even though I’m not particularly in the mood for anything, I decide it’s probably best to try before I ruin the fun.

“You shouldn’t have to pretend that everything is okay, you know.” My question is completely ignored, switched for a statement that sets a heavy atmosphere in the room. The little excitement I had for their visit disappears. Instead, irritation starts taking over.

“Look Daeun, I-”

“I know you don’t want to talk about it, but this is not the way to cope with whatever may be happening inside you right now.” The tone she uses tells me she isn’t about to back out anytime soon. I hate it, hate how she feels like she can tell me what’s best for me.

“If this is what you came here for then I think it’s best that you leave. I’m not playing around here.” I turn away from the both of them, showing my back instead. This was supposed to be a fun evening to get my mind off him. Turns out, it’s the exact opposite.

“She’s right y/n.” It didn’t sound like Mina initially wanted to talk about this. She has always been unsure of when and how to address things, usually rather staying silent. With the right help however, Mina too will spill her words.

“This will always be a part of your life now, no matter how hard you try to erase it, you can’t. I know you’re hurting, and you’re allowed to feel hurt, we just want to help you. We’ll distract you all you like later, but for now, just confide in us please?”

It’s the way I feel both of their eyes burning into my back, the way she isn’t exactly sure how to convey her thoughts, though has the best intentions, the way a gentle hand softly lands on my shoulder. Sooner or later the dam would have broken. Apparently that time has come.

“I gave up so much for that guy! I moved to a more expensive apartment closer to his so we could see each other more, I started working more hours so he wouldn’t need to pay every time we went out together,” I never really got the chance to complain about the negative side to the changes I made, always feeling like it should be worth it, since I did it for him.

“I studied late into the night just so I had time during the day to hang out with him, do you know how much sleep I lost? I couldn’t even go home to my parents regularly anymore, for the distance was too much.”

Not exactly having expected me to rant so much, the two girls seated next to me stare in surprise. Never have I expressed any discomfort with what I was doing, always plastering a smile on my face.

“I don’t even mind that he broke up with me, I mean I do, but he was so cold! I had done my best to keep things going between us and he just gives me an ‘oh I don’t like you anymore’ like it’s common sense. I didn’t even get a thank you for all those years or a sorry for breaking it off! I just wish he’d…”

I take in a deep breath after having forgotten to breathe for the past minute, all the tears I kept in finally making an appearance as my anger get replaced by the same sadness I felt all those days ago.

“I just wished he’d at least given me reassurance I hadn’t been a waste of his time.”

The volume in which I spoke had drastically lowered, coming out in an almost-whisper. All the objects in front of me blurred as a non-stop stream of tears made it’s way out, my cries just mere silent sobs.

The hand resting on my shoulder becomes an arm pulling me into her side, the rough material of her shirt revealing her identity. Daeun doesn’t say anything as her other hand strokes through the strands of my hair, detangling any knots on the way.

For a moment I feel guilty about the tears wetting her shirt. It’s when she pulls me against her a little tighter that the feeling disappears, giving me the opportunity to fully bask in her embrace.

“I’m so sorry sweetheart.” Feeling left out, Mina pats my thigh and breaks the silence. “You worked hard didn’t you? Because you loved him.” I can hear her clothes rustling first, before her arms too wrap around the space Daeun left.

“I still do.” No matter how much I try to forget about him, I can’t seem to do it. He has engraved himself into my mind, forever stuck. If he’d ever leave is a mystery, though for now, it seems impossible.

You know what? Fuck you Kim Taehyung.

“Dude, what do you want for your birthday?” It’s Jungkook who has slammed down my door and completely disturbed my peace.

“Huh? Nothing in particular really.” Despite the rude entrance, I don’t look up from my tv screen, having already gotten used to the lack of announcements before he comes in.

“Didn’t you ask me that already two days ago?” Once again ignoring any form of politeness, the younger one makes grabby hands towards the bag of potato chips laying next to me. I don’t make any move to stop him, knowing very well I can’t win from him in a fight, ever.

“Yeah because I thought maybe you changed your mind. Usually you’re so excited for your birthday, but you just seem so… Unenthusiastic?” There is almost no way to take him seriously when he’s scarfing down my dear food like it’s water. Surely when were out next time I’ll make him get me a new bag.

“Well yeah that’s because…” What exactly was I going to say?

Finally grabbing his full attention, Jungkook puts down the bag of chips and lets himself fall down next to me. “Because?”

There is no mistaking his smirk for a smile, although he does his damn best to hide it. He knows exactly what I was about to say, and I’m not about to admit anything.

“Because I realized it’s nothing to be overly excited about. That’s it.” Challenging Jungkook to prove me wrong I stare right back at him, not planning on chickening out any time soon. It seems to have worked, as he looks away first.

“Ah is that so? I’ll just see if I can find something you’ll like myself in that case.” The boy who has silently admitted defeat removes himself from the couch, moving to his room at the other side of our apartment.  “Good luck buddy.”

No longer having to pay attention to him, I rewind the movie I was watching back. That muscle bunny just made me miss the absolute best part.

“So why exactly are you dragging me to town again?”

It’s not too busy today, which should have been a given as it’s a normal weekday. Everyone is either yawning behind a desk or running around in circles depending on their career choices. Compared to them, I’m making the worst possible choice by letting my best friend convince me to skip class for a reason I wasn’t even familiar with.

“I’m having none of this ‘I don’t care what you get me’ nonsense. We’re going to find something you like, and that’s why we’re here.” Jimin takes a pause from pulling me along by hand to put both of his on his waist like a proud toddler.

“So in other words, we’re here so I can choose my own birthday gift?” Slowly I begin to understand how much of a waste of my time this is. I could’ve been doing fine trying to understand whatever Mrs. Wilson wanted to go over today, but instead I’m going to be reminded of my ex all day. Great.

Well, if she was still here it wouldn’t have mattered whether I knew what I wanted or not, she always had something great for me, and I always looked forward to it. Once she jokingly told me how she felt pressured, having to live up to my expectations. Though honestly there was nothing for her to live up to, I liked her gifts because she gave them to me. Because she always managed to make each and every birthday a fun one.

“Any ideas yet? Jewellery, clothes, games… Wait, nothing too expensive, I’ll go broke!” Jimin’s sudden panic manages to bubble up a chuckle in me. He doesn’t really seem to appreciate it though, as he scowls at the sound. “What? Your taste is too expensive!”

He knows me well it seems. Not that it was ever a real secret. When the contents of your closet is worth more than someone’s rent several times anybody would want to show that off right? Well so do I.

We walk into several stores for inspiration. No real shopping haul, just a quick in and out with Jimin trying to get a reaction out of me by stuffing things he thinks I like into my face. So far no real success, my only reaction being something along the lines of ‘ah yes that looks nice’ at everything he proposes.

It’s not like I’m purposefully trying not to find something I truly like, but more that honestly nothing catches my interest. And I promise it’s not even the price, some of my most prized possessions are the cheapest things I own. This just isn’t doing it for me.

After having been pulled into the what feels like the hundredth store, my stomach decides to make the loudest noise known to mankind. “Can we like, maybe take a break?” There is no doubt that my face is bright red at this moment, instantly heating up when Jimin laughs equally as loud.

“If you were hungry you should’ve just said so. Let’s go find something to eat.” Is probably the only sentence he said today that I’ve fully agreed on.

It sounded so easy, just find somewhere to buy food. Unfortunately, getting our tummies filled wasn’t written in our future so soon. No matter where we look, everything is either closed or completely full with customers. Who knew so many other people were hungry at this moment. Not like it’s close to dinner time or anything.

Eventually, I manage to convince Jimin to eat at a small fancy restaurant down the street on my expense. Despite him agreeing after a few attempts, a set pout is still present on his face, which doesn’t seem to be leaving anytime soon. Together with some murmurs about how this isn’t fair, he makes himself look incredibly adorable.

Soon however, I would come to regret my decision. The fancy tablecloths and nicely plated food wouldn’t be looking so appealing anymore. Because even if I had convinced my mind of the truth my constant lies hold, there was simply no way for me to convince my heart too.

“Hey isn’t that y/n and… I don’t think I know him.”

The male opposite her had somehow won her over with that stupid perfect smile he wore, his eyes an annoyingly beautiful ocean deep blue and his blonde hair styled in an awfully neat way. Everything about the sight annoys the heck out of me, including the way she was smiling back at him. Why does she look so happy? When was the last time I saw her like that?

“Oh are they… I’m sorry Tae.”

I was the one who broke up with her. I was the one who walked out with a load haven fallen off of my shoulders. I was the one who ran even though she cried. There is no reason for me not to be completely fine.

“I don’t care, she can do whatever she wants now.”

So then why am I the one hurting this much?

It came sooner than expected, my birthday. Just sort of snuck up on me. After the restaurant incident Jimin himself magically decided to end the shopping trip and go home to eat. Nobody ever mentioned my birthday again in the following days.

It was pretty clear that someone had told the others about what happened, although none of them spoke about it. That someone obviously being Jimin.

“Soooo… any plans for the day?”

The question comes from Jungkook, who is fidgeting with the hem of his oversized hoodie. He stands quietly in the doorway to my room, waiting for an answer he already knows.

“Go to class and study after.”

“You’re not going out of the house? No party planned?” The suffocating nervosity radiates off of him in waves, displayed by the still ongoing fidgeting and his eyes that can’t seem to focus on one thing at a time.

“Nope, no other plans.” I sit up in bed, slowly coming to terms with the fact that I won’t be getting any more sleep. Despite him looking like he’s scared I’m going to get mad, he doesn’t actually give up, which isn’t appreciated on my part.

“Well the boys thought we could maybe go out together, get a few drinks.” On any other day besides my birthday I would’ve most likely agreed to the plan. Today however, I can’t help but relate every proposition to my birthday, which I, in case you hadn’t noticed yet, want to forget about as soon as possible.

I had already given him enough opportunities to stop. All it would take was leaving me alone. His constant persistence ends up getting to me, successfully causing me to snap at the younger boy. If he expected an outburst, he’s getting it.

“Why the fuck does everyone expect me to celebrate today? If my birthday is the day on which I can do whatever shit I want then let me do whatever I want!” It wasn’t meant to come out that way, and the guilt sets in the moment I realize it, but I don’t have time to apologize.

“Dude, you seriously need to do something about your feelings for y/n.” He sighs the words as he casually leans against the wall, his arms crossed. In an instant the awkward energy around him disappears, replaced by a very prominent eye roll. It’s not hard to guess that this has been on his mind for a while.

“Don’t mention her. This has nothing to do with her.”

“This has everything to do with her and you know it.”

I don’t have anything to say against that. We both know it’s the truth, though only one of us is trying to deny it. The dumb one.

“You know what I think? You spent your past 6 birthdays with the girl of your dreams and now that you pushed her away you have no idea what to do. Am I right?”

He is. I don’t say anything as my head lowers, slowly realizing there is no hiding anything from him. She’s still on my mind. I still wonder what she’s doing, where she is, if she’s safe. I still care. “You’re right.”

I broke up with who I considered my other half, convincing myself that I didn’t need her anymore. Who exactly was I trying to protect?

“I had to, I’ll hurt her.” I already did.

“And suddenly breaking up with her is supposed to make her happy?” I was hoping it would in the long run.

“You’re not the same as him.” Though I am. The same parents, the same group of friends growing up, the same sense of humour. We got along so well. What if we still do?

“He’s my brother Kook. We were so alike. You know he once too adored her.” We don’t talk anymore, I’m disappointed in him. He would’ve been too. I don’t understand what changed.

“He used her, nobody saw it coming. The signs were there, he just hid them too well.” Jungkook leaves his spot against to wall to comfort me, tucking my head into his neck.

“You’re not him and he isn’t you. The fact that you no longer want to be associated with him proves everything. He didn’t care about Hyeon.” So he can look straight at me, he pushes me away with his hands on my shoulders. The expression on his face tells me he’s serious.

“You love her, and you’ve got to fix this mess.”

I don’t like agreeing with him, but once again, he’s right.

As soon as I open the door I want to slam it right back into his face. Or I might want to run into his arms, I can’t decide yet. Regardless, I wasn’t expecting Taehyung to be standing on the other side when the doorbell went off.

“Umm… Hi?” All the words that have been building up in my personal dictionary seem to disappear the moment I lay my eyes on him. He still looks as good as the last time I saw him, even though the circumstances were heart-breaking.

“Hey, um I’m sorry I showed up unannounced. I didn’t really think this through…” Everything about him screams awkward. From the way his feet are pointed slightly more inwards than normally, to the way he doesn’t seem to be able to smile naturally. Instead there is this weird, tight expression on his face.

“Oh um… Would you like to come in though?” I don’t wait for an answer as I step aside, my memory helping me remind that nine out of ten times the answer to that question is ‘yes’. “Oh yeah, thank you.”

“Do you want anything to drink?” Not really having anything to say I cycle through the set few sentences I usually need when I have someone over. I’m not happy that he’s here, but I’m not the type to lash out at people.

“Ah no, I’m okay. Look I’m just going to get straight to the point, I messed up big time. I got insecure and closed myself off to everyone including you and I’m so fucking sorry that I did.”

My lack of reaction surprises me. Sure, my insides are doing somersaults, but I don’t feel the need to express any of it. Like an unused sheet of paper, my face stays blank. “And now you’re here to win me back I presume?”

Somewhere in between his statement and mine, the tables shifted. Slowly, I’m gaining the confidence he is losing.

“Well, not really, I mean yes, but-”

He catches himself rambling, shutting his mouth before any real nonsense can make it out. Taking a deep breath helps, the words coming out more fluently after. Not a great start, but it’s okay. I have patience. Sometimes.

“I just wanted to let you know that the words I shot at you that day weren’t true. I hurt you and I didn’t want those words to roam your mind not knowing they weren’t even close to what I was feeling.”

The deep breath he drew in earlier escapes in a deep sigh, followed by his mouth opening and closing a few times without any sounds making it out. “And?” It was meant as a way to encourage him to continue. Sadly, it came out rather rude.

“I do still care about you, damn I still love you more every day. If there is anything I can do to make it up to you please let me know, I don’t want to have to live in a world where my last words to you made you cry. Obviously I would want a second chance at being the proper lover you deserve, but you’re in charge here. If you want me to walk out the door I will.”

There’s a hopeful look in his eyes making my heart beat erratically. In the past I would’ve instantly dropped to my knees, making sure every wish of his came true. I am no longer that girl.

“Tae it’s been months, you can’t just suddenly drop by and tell me you’re sorry. I spent days wondering why you broke up with me, wailing over the fact that you suddenly just didn’t care anymore, and even now you’re not giving me an answer. Why did you suddenly turn your back on me? Why did you not talk to me about whatever was bothering you? Even now you’re making me feel like you couldn’t trust me. Fuck, you just left me there like I was a piece of trash!”

What was once a hopeful look in his eyes, turned into defeat. He won’t give me an answer.

“You can’t just come in here exclaiming to love me after I’ve worked so hard to get myself over you. You can’t just come in here trying to steal my heart when I’m learning to give it to somebody else.”

“The blonde haired dude?”

Perhaps I shouldn’t feel a sense of accomplishment at the clear jealousy in his voice. However, this man did break my heart in two for apparently no reason. Is it weird I would want to get back at him a little?

“His name is Yejun and he’s a great guy. Look, just leave please. I have nothing more to say or hear. We’re done.” Turning away from him I mark the end of this conversation. It takes a while before there is any movement behind me. Slow steps make their way to the front door before pausing.

“I hope he treats you well, but I’m not going to simply give up on you like that.”

And secretly, I was hoping he wouldn’t.

Two, three four days, before I realize it it has been an entire week since I last saw him. Some part of me is scared, scared that he has decided otherwise and I will never hear from him again.

I had told myself getting over him would be easy when I finally accepted the help of my friends, and for a while it was. Or so I thought, because the moment he walked in here I was right back to square one.

I’m in the middle of working on a new project when the doorbell rings. Standing up, I go to open the door wondering who it could be. If he had come back for me after all. Too bad I would soon be disappointed, as the man standing in front of my door was just an ordinary mailman.

“Umm I didn’t order anything?” My eyes fall on almost gigantic package behind the man. If I ordered some furniture I would’ve surely remembered right?

“Are you not y/f/n y/l/n?”

“No I am.”

“It clearly has your name and address on it miss.”

The building up confusion hasn’t left my head yet, but knowing there is nothing else I can do I decide to accept the package. After thanking the courier I close the door and carefully carry the big box into my living room.

The moment I open the big thing up, a bunch of big balloons float up to my low ceiling. There’s a transparent one with little hearts bouncing around inside, one that’s just one big heart itself, another one has the words ‘I love you’ written on it in a neat font. If I hadn’t checked my calendar this morning I would’ve thought it was valentine’s day.

Diving deeper into the box I find a relatively big fluffy teddy bear, hugging what seems to be a letter in a white envelope.

‘When I was 16 a miracle happened, I met the most beautiful girl. Me not being able to contain myself I immediately introduced myself to her. She said he name was y/n. I think it was back then that I decided her voice was my favourite. I was too much of a coward to ask her out at the time. I eventually did, though looking back I wish I did so sooner. There was never a boring day with her by my side.’

That’s all there is. Just a few words on an otherwise empty piece of paper. No signature at the bottom, no name, and still I knew exactly who wrote it.

The next day another package came in. This time a different set of balloons, a different stuffed animal, but the exact same white envelope.

 ‘When I was 22 my brother and his fiancée broke it off. Just like the piece of shit I have to call my dad he betrayed his partner’s trust, cheating on her without a second thought. My mother heard about it and accused both of us as being just like our father. You know after a while, I really started believing her.’

Each day a new box would come in, always containing a present with a letter attached.

‘I was terrified of hurting you, terrified of you seeing me the way my mom did, so I hid everything from you. I should’ve known that I can’t hide anything, you know me too well. I panicked and left you, the biggest mistake I could ever make. One that made everything that was already happening so much worse. I tried telling myself I didn’t need you, but I just couldn’t.’

I believed him, believed in the words he wrote down.

‘I’m so fucking sorry for everything I put you through. It’s all my fault and I’ll spend forever owning up to my mistakes. I love you and I don’t want to live without you. Please just give me one more chance to prove myself to you. One is all I need.’

I’m sorry Yejun, I can’t forget about him after all.

Actually he should be the one who is nervous, and well maybe he is, but I’m the one standing on his front porch with my knees shaking and my heart beating right out of my chest. At one point I was even scared he would be able to hear me through the door.

Shaking my head I gather all the courage I can to knock on his door before I turn around and run back in the direction I came from. However, when I hear the sound of my fist on the hard wood I briefly still consider hiding somewhere.

Luckily I don’t get the chance to. While still going back and forth between the options staying or coming back some other time, the door creaks. I stiffly force my hands to stay still at my sides. The time it takes for the door to actually open seems like an entirety. If you were to count the passing seconds it would at most be like 5, which doesn’t sound like much, it feels like much.

“y/n?” His stance looks like a ‘what are you doing here?’, but his eyes give more of a ‘please say you’re here to forgive me’. Well, the latter would be right. “Can I come in?”

“Y-yeah of course.”

It’s not hard to notice that he is uncertain of his actions. It pleases me on one hand, as it gives me some sort of confirmation that he doesn’t want to make any more mistakes around me. On the  other hand, I don’t like seeing him uptight around me. I wish he was more comfortable when I’m near.

“I received the letters you wrote.” He knows I received his letters, he was the one who wrote them and sent them out. Surprisingly though, he almost audibly swallows at the information like he did something bad.

“Why couldn’t you tell me in person?” It takes me back to the day he suddenly landed on my doorstep. Even when I explicitly asked for it, he gave me nothing.

“I was scared, I couldn’t get the words out. I wasn’t at all prepared.” He takes a pause before continuing. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, I just didn’t know what else to believe at that point.”

Carefully, I reach out my hand to place on top of his laying on his lap. I don’t touch his skin yet, patiently waiting for him to give me some sort of consent. It comes in the form of him softly raising his hand to meet mine.

“I know, we all have our insecure times. You’re not obligated to tell me anything. I can’t and shouldn’t force you to. I’m sorry I doubted you. I was only upset about the way you left.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I thought that if your last memory of me was a bad one you’d forget me faster.”

It didn’t work the way he wanted it to, but he already knows. Already having been hit with that fact multiple times, I decide to spare him. I don’t mention it again.

“Did you ever stop loving me?” At the time it seemed like he did. Like he wasn’t simply acting, like those harsh words were what he truly felt. “Be honest please.” I don’t want any more lies. I’ll accept whatever comes out, even if it throws me right back to where I started.

“I-I don’t know… I really thought my mother was right. That what I had for you wasn’t what it seemed to be.” His gaze briefly drifts to the ground, before focussing on our touching hands. Like magic, the uncomfortableness he was feeling seems to shift. “No matter what she or I tried to convince myself of, something was always missing. I couldn’t put a mask over my own hurting and guilt anymore.”

He spoke the truth. Well at least I think he did. And so I accepted it.

“Okay, thank you for telling me.”

This talk was long overdue. Something we both needed and completely missed. No screaming, no crying, no accusing. If only it went this way from the start. We’re not all perfect though. Even if someone out there is, I’m not, he isn’t. They must be laughing at us.

“Your letters were cheesy. The gifts too.” I’m not sure if this is me trying to lighten the mood, or if I’m just stating facts. Regardless, it makes the both of us smile.

“I know. But you love cheesy things, like the roses I buy you on special occasions.” When he looks back at me I have to resist the urge to jump on him. The smile he wears look good on him. It’s been a while since I’ve seen it. “You know me too well.”

“Well did they work?”

I had already made up my mind a few days back. While staring at the floating balloons occupying my living room I had decided for myself that he’s worth it. He is.

Tilting my head up like I’m still thinking, I make clear ‘hmm’ sound. I had thought that the answer is quite obvious, seeing as I came to him myself, but when doubt takes away his smile I drop the act. I’ve been through enough. We’ve both been through enough.

“Yeah, yeah it did.”

Unlike myself, he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around me. Burying his head in the crook of my neck like he used to do, he lets out a few low ‘thank you’s’. It doesn’t take me long to return the hug, feeling just as safe with him as I used to.

“What about.. Ah I forgot his name.” It’s not hard to guess who he’s hinting at, the sourness in his voice giving him away. I understand, I wouldn’t like it either.

“I ended things.” His answer just comes in the for of a small nod. There is no need for anything more.

“I honestly thought you were going to reject me again.” He ends his sentence with a chuckle and completely relaxes in my hold. Now that the tension is gone, we can go back to where we left off, slowly rebuilding what was lost.

“I was just playing with you, I’m sorry. But no more being an asshole okay? I promise I will kick your ass.” My giggling might undermine the threat a little to others. Luckily, he knows I’m serious.

“I will give you full permission to, but you’ll never have to. I’m going to dump so much love on you that you’ll regret ever even thinking about taking me back. You’re stuck with me now though, so you better be prepared.”

Pulling himself back a little, he plants a gentle kiss on my lips. And then another one, a second one, three more, each kiss more passionate than the last. A fire spreads throughout my body, burning away the few doubts I had left with success. Eventually, to my dismay, I have to pull back for air. Damn humans for needing oxygen.

“Oh? I’d like to see you try.”

Just in case you were wondering, I never did regret it.

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[circleofcavan]

Nebraska

Macey daydreams about spending winter break somewhere else, with some envy sprinkled in there, too; suite shenanigans and some $300 Bose noise-cancelling headphones. One-shot. Content warning: themes of parental neglect, mentions of alcohol use, smoking + abuse.

(Read it on AO3 here.)

There are moments when Macey wishes everything could just be stable and balanced.

“Normal” is too much to ask for; it’s a big ticket item that’s just out of reach, that she hasn’t worked quite hard enough for just yet. Instead, she’d settle for stable: an ideal situation with no boat-rocking, no absent fathers or narcissistic mothers, no forced appearances or quick-changes in the back of limousines, no hidden hangovers, no concealer on the bruises along her upper arm. Stable. Secure.

Idealistic. At this point in her life, there’s no chance she’ll ever know balance. If she keeps down the path that Gallagher has her going down, it’ll be a constant chase – maybe not a sprint, but a jog, and even that can get exhausting after a while.

She envies Cammie, even despite her hardships. Cammie has support, she has crumbs of normalcy to cling to, a warm home to run to during breaks and tight spots and panicked moments. She has options, even when she thinks she doesn’t. Even when she feels like every door is closed, there are always more.

Macey watches her chatting with Bez and Liz, her feet curled under a blanket, back to the wall of their suite. Cammie has a slight smile on her face, a fullness in her cheeks that made a return when she did, another escape on a lark that she magically realized had consequences; Bex is trying to reverse engineer a heist, Liz is French braiding Cam’s hair, which is brown now, thinner but longer. She can only slightly hear her roommates over the music she’s blasting, $300 Bose noise-cancelling headphones be damned, but she can imagine the conversation, more or less – more homework trouble, more boy trouble, more girl trouble, more acne trouble, more TV cliffhanger trouble, more “I can’t believe I got a B on this test” trouble, more normalcy. A feeling she’ll never have.

The conversation halts for a moment, all of them on the precipice of laughter, but they look to her, expectant, waiting on an answer; she points to her headphones and down to her book (Art of War, of course), and loudly yells “What?” as though she’s clueless and miffed, out of the loop. Bex laughs, Liz joins in, Cammie smiles and her volume goes back up. Stability. Everything is level again.

She’s damn great at playing the part, something she was born to do. (Is she talking about herself or about Cammie? She’s not sure. Projecting, much?) Macey is the perfect daughter, even when she’s a rebel; she’s the supermodel even when she’s strung out and hungover in the Great Hall at breakfast, stumbling through Farsi between sips of Gatorade; she’s America’s Sweetheart, Vermont’s darling, even though she hasn’t been back to Vermont in years. (Not that there’s anything there for her, aside from a hiking trail where she used to run or smoke cigs, plus the parking lot where she had her first kiss – awkward, sloppy and too much teeth – and her childhood home – her permanent address, she should say, because it’s not like she’s ever really felt like it was a home for her at all.)

They’re talking about winter break plans now. “Nebraska”  floats past the music, clinging to her brain, cloying and sweet. What she wouldn’t give for a proper, home-cooked meal, a scratchy wool blanket, a too-warm-but-too-cold room with a draft. Farm smells. Barn chores. Callouses. Sweat. Burnt coffee in smooth metal thermoses, a cold winter sun, some dustings of snow, a hot mug of potato soup – a too tight pickle jar lid. It’s so vivid it hurts, digging into her brain like it’s eating her alive from the inside out, starting at her brain and burrowing its way into her heart. Nebraska.

She can only imagine what that reality would be like; there’s something lived-in about it that she won’t be able to come close to touching, an inherent familiarity that she’s just not cut out to experience. Her winter break will likely be Aspen or Geneva, maybe both, and that’s a dream, too – she’ll probably see some classmates there as well, the ones that fit the Gallagher mold, the one that she’s apparently supposed to fit, too.

The trip will be booked as a family affair, but her parents will be anything but present, her mom chasing after seasonal ski patrol staff, college students in their prime, her dad on “work calls,” probably brokering some deal that will just line his pockets a bit more than his congressional salary. She’ll be drunk and alone, partying with ski bunnies or diplomats’ kids, settling into her old-money-rich-heiress role like she has so many times before.

Maybe if she’s lucky she’ll be able to slip away – if they’re preoccupied for a few days into the weeklong trip, she could pack a bag and hitchhike her way a few towns over, blending in like she’s new in town and visiting extended family, weaving a cover story for herself and patching it up every time she gets caught in a lie. She might have normal clothes on but she’s still anything but; they’ll remark on her beauty and her perfectly-manicured nails, ones that wouldn’t be in such pristine condition if she were just a girl from just a farm in just Nebraska.

Then she’ll get call after call to her phone, her parents demanding an appearance because it’s time to fly home now, and she’ll have to abandon the fake life she created for herself in this little mountain town, the cover that was just on the verge of being blown. She won’t be a girl from Nebraska with boy trouble and homework trouble and normal trouble, she’ll be the Macey McHenry, heiress and stone-cold bitch, sugary-sweet but too much to handle.

She’s not sure how Bex was able to get on her bed without her knowing, but she’s got a hand on the right ear of her headphones before Macey can turn to stop her with a bewildered laugh. “We’ve been trying to get your attention for ages,” Bex says, sitting back on her haunches, glancing at Cam and Liz. “What movie do you want to watch tonight? Tina’s running a Bourne marathon, but we were thinking Clueless, but then we realized you haven’t picked a movie yet, so it’s your call.”

Macey slides the headphones off fully now, settling them around her neck. She pauses her music. She pauses herself. Maybe this is the closest to stable and balanced that she’ll get: the closest thing to normal is four teenage girls watching 80s movies in their pajamas, LUSH masks smeared on their faces, shitty manicures and burnt microwave popcorn, falling asleep on the floor next to an overheated laptop and projector and her roommates, snoring softly.

Tomorrow’s Saturday. She could sleep in, pretend like the meal she’s having is home-cooked. She could wander around the halls and act like this was the home she deserved all along, because it was, and maybe even talk a bit more about winter break plans. Macey knows enough social graces to not invite herself to spaces where she might not be welcome, but maybe it could happen; maybe things will balance out in her favor. It might not be Nebraska, it might be London, or maybe it might just be here, in the mansion, if she can talk her way into it. The only people who normally hang back anyway are ones who either can’t go home or won’t go home, and Macey surely falls into both or either.

But that’s neither here nor there, and they’re still waiting on an answer. Macey dogears her book page, the same page she’s been stuck on this entire time, reading the same paragraph over and over, and sets it aside. “Clueless for sure,” she finally says, forcing a grin, cutting a glance at Cammie. “But only if we stay up way too late talking about how much Paul Rudd kind of looks like J-O-S-H.” (He doesn't.)

Liz squeals, Bex laughs, and Cammie blushes. Mace flashes her a knowing smile and grabs her blanket, ushering them up, while Bex says something about stealing cookie dough from the kitchen. Liz is convinced that they need to swipe Madame Dabney’s projector, even though there’s a perfectly good one in their room (apparently the one that isn’t theirs is 10 times more energy efficient and smells like the essential oil of their choice), and Cammie is watching her, grabbing her hand, helping her up. Cam’s hand doesn’t have callouses yet, but it will, and Macey thinks about what they’ll feel like after break. Will they be rough and ragged, or torn, exposing new, smooth, bright pink skin, the outline just barely visible?

Macey snaps back to reality for a moment; Bex and Liz have left on their respective conquests, and Cam is lingering near the door. “You coming?” she asks, gesturing to the hallway with her chin, and Macey can’t help but remember the annoyed (and annoying) girl that she met on her first visit, the one who just wouldn’t leave her alone. “You know we can’t let them traipse around by themselves; Liz will end up with a sprained ankle and Bex will probably burn the place to the ground.”

“Let’s do this,” Macey shoots back, grabbing a compact fire extinguisher that Liz had made in the labs a semester prior. This was normal. And she’d create balance and stability where she could, starting with her two renegade roommates. “I’m right behind you.”

#gallagher girls #macey mchenry #cammie morgan #gallagher girls series #gallagher girls fic #also on ao3 #one shot #ally carter #hahahahah this is my distraction from zoom university

[hargreeveslftv]

The Occult: DOOMSDAY | an umbrella academy fanfic

chapter ten | word count: 3,170

CHAPTER TEN | looming  ( song | oh ana - mother mother ) 

"If he's in here, you owe me ten bucks." Klaus comments to Melanie as he leads the way to the door of the Irish pub, not all that far from the academy.

"Deal." She shrugs, shaking his hand but sighing as he pushes open the door, pointing to the large silhouette of their number one. 

"I'll give it to you later." She says begrudgingly, following Diego inside the pub. 

"Trying a little hair of the dog are we?" Klaus asks Luther, the siblings filling the space around him. 

"Leave me alone." He comments bitterly. 

"Give us a moment." Diego tells them, the three looking at him confused as he puts his gloves down on the table. 

"Okay. Come on. Maybe they'll brood each other to death." Klaus sighs, Five and Melanie following him to another table a couple away, close enough to watch for any signs of hostility. 

"Isn't this basically the plot to Batman vs Superman?" Melanie asks, watching the two men talking. 

"Kinda, but Martha has a better ring to it than Reginald." Klaus replies, Five scoffing at their conversation. 

"It's more like Beevis and Butthead but sure, let's go with the hero's thing." 

Melanie is almost about to pat herself on the back at making Five's humor appear for a moment, but doesn't get a chance as Luther bolts up, running out of the door and leaving the rest of them to follow, breaking the door as he runs through it. 

Luther instantly spots the car they arrived in, yet another one from Reginald's garage, and quickly makes his way over, only stopping for a moment as Five calls to him. 

"I'm driving. Get in the back." 

Luther does as instructed, everyone else catching up to him and Five climbing in the drivers seat while Klaus calls shotgun. 

Diego opens the door for Melanie, but she hovers a couple steps back, rooted in place as Diego frowns when she glances up to him, a panicked look on her face. 

"Hey, you good?" He asks quietly, tears starting to burn in her eyes as her words escape her, Diego recognising the look of fear. 

"Somethings wrong. I don't know what." She signs. 

Diego's heart drops at her actions, placing a supportive hand on her shoulder. 

"It'll be okay. We'll protect you. I'll protect you." He reassures her, the anxiety still washing over her body, but feeling returning to her hands and feet instead of the cold shivers of her approaching panic attack. 

Melanie nods slowly, letting Diego lead her to the car, where she slides in beside a slightly drunk Luther, Klaus looking over the back of his seat with a worried look on his face, unshed tears burning in his eyes. 

"You too?" He asks as Diego closes the last door, Five starting the car and pulling away from the curb. 

Wordlessly, Melanie nods, Klaus smiling at her sadly before turning around in his seat.

The journey from the city to the remote cabin takes most of the remaining sunlight, a blue haze falling over the world as Melanie sat between Diego and Luther, being squashed between the two larger men offering some form of comfort as they traveled. 

The majority of the journey was passed in silence, apart from Luther's prompting to go faster and Five's loose threats, a sense of impending doom hanging like early morning fog between those that sat in the car, not lifting until the wooden cabin came into view. 

"We're here." Five announces, darkness fully taking over as night settled in. 

Melanie takes a deep breath as she follows Diego out of the car, hanging close to him as the five of them bolt up the stairs, Luther leading the way and bursting through the cabin door. 

"Allison! No!" He yells, immediately falling to his knees. 

Klaus, Five and Diego rush in, and until Melanie makes it past them, she doesn't see her sister laying on the floor in a pool of blood, her throat slashed and eyes barely responsive. 

Klaus barely glances back at Melanie for a moment, but it's enough for them to know. 

This is what they felt coming. 

Luther's tears are the first to fall as he calls Allison's name, Klaus hovering above him scared to make a move at all, while Diego and Five stood in shock at what they saw, Melanie standing behind them all, her body locked in terror as she watched on with the only thing she felt being the slightest touch of a shaking hand holding hers. 

The whole trip back to the academy is a blur, Melanie and Klaus stuffed into the front on the way back, their hands joined tightly as they tried to silently comfort each other through the horror they felt. 

Melanie ran around the car as they arrived back, shutting the doors of the car behind her brothers as they ran inside the house, Allison in their arms much like Five was in hers and Melanie's only the night before. 

Tears fall down Melanie's face as she stands between Klaus and Pogo in the medical room, Grace quickly inspecting Allison as Five helps her. 

"She's suffered a severe laceration to her larynx and requires operation, one of you will need to give blood." Grace informs them, everyone in the room replying at once. 

"I will." The men and Melanie reply, all rolling sleeves out of the way instantly. 

"I'm doing it." Luther insists, before Pogo speaks up. 

"I'm afraid that's impossible, dear boy. Your blood is more compatible with mine." He reminds him, Klaus jumping in instead. 

"Hey don't sweat it. I got this, big guy." He declares, running around the bed and slapping his arm. "I love needles." 

"Master Klaus," Pogo interrupts, "Your blood is… how shall I say this? Too polluted." 

"Move, I'll do it." Diego says next, moving in front of Klaus. 

But, as Grace turns around with the needle, a whimper is all that is heard as Diego faints at her feet. 

Pogo nods, looking down at his passed out body before looking up to Grace. 

"Stick him." 

Luther helps pick him up, setting him down in a chair pushed beside Allison's medical bed before Grace goes about hooking him up. 

"We'll need more than just one doner. Master Five, Miss Melanie, I'm afraid you'll have to contribute as well if we hope for Miss Allison to recover." Pogo warns them, both nodding instantly. 

"I'll go next. Five is still healing, he needs more time." Melanie insists, Pogo agreeing to let her know when she was needed so she could finally leave the room. 

She doesn't take notice of what happens next, only knowing her feet lead her out of the medical room and towards the bedrooms, but not close enough to make it to the bedroom itself, it seems. 

With exhaustion catching up to her body, Melanie collapses in the hallway outside the bedroom doors, her memories brought back as vividly as in her dream, but instead of being picked up by her best friend, Melanie instead pulls herself closer to the wall, leaning against it with her knees curled to her chest as the near constant tears of the night continued to fall down her face. 

Sick of the helpless feeling clinging to her body, she pulls herself up from the floor, kicking her boots off on the way as she walks into the bathroom, filling the sink with cold water. 

Tying her hair back with the hair tie around her wrist, she splashes the cold water in her face, the salt water of her tears getting lost as the temperature shocks her system. 

Gasping for breath after splashing her face again, she almost can't hear Klaus as he calls her name from his bedroom.

"Coming!" She calls back, grabbing a towel and drying off her face quickly, before sidestepping her abandoned boots and bursting into Klaus's room. 

"What's going… on?" 

Klaus stands with his eyes wide in shock, staring directly at Ben who was still frozen in place, looking down at his hands. 

"Can you see Ben?" Klaus asks her carefully, her eyes following his line of sight but seeing nothing but his room. 

"No, not since that time in the car." She denies, brow knotting in confusion, "Why?" 

"Because he just punched me in the face and I think I'm losing my shit." He replies in a whisper. 

"Wait, you're serious aren't you?" She asks, her face softening as she realised how shaken he was. 

With a small nod, Melanie moves closer, settling a comforting hand on his shoulder as she tries to make sense of things. 

"Well, you said it yourself, you're a day sober, that's more sober than you've been basically the whole time we've known each other." She rationalises, Klaus nodding in understanding. 

"Yeah, yeah you're right. You know, maybe with this whole world ending thing it'll actually be kinda helpful." He shrugs with a wave of his hands, Melanie smiling at him encouragingly. 

"Exactly, then Ben can join the group hug as we kick it." She jokes, looking to the side where Klaus could see Ben shaking his head, arms crossed, but a small smile still on his face. 

"You two," Five interrupts, head poking in the doorway, "living room. Now." 

Melanie, Klaus and Ben watch him as he walks off, Melanie letting out a sigh as she looks back to Klaus. 

"We'll come back to this after, yeah?" Melanie asks, to which Klaus nods, sighing deeply. 

"Was he always this bossy?" She asks. 

"Yeah, more or less." She hears from beside her, eyes going wide as she realises it wasn't Klaus who spoke. 

"Okay, we're coming back to that as well." 

Melanie, Ben and Klaus rush downstairs, joining a now conscious Diego and Five as they both pace the living room, Klaus curling up on one couch while Melanie and Ben took the other. 

"The bastard that nearly killed our sister's still out there, with Vanya." Diego says, obvious bitterness in his tone. "We need to go after her." 

"Vanya is not important." Five interrupts, causing the eyebrows of everyone in the room to rise. 

"Hey, that's your sister. A little heartless, even for you, Five." Diego scolds. 

"I'm not saying I don't care about her," He defends himself, "but if the apocalypse happens today, she dies along with the other seven billion of us. Harold Jenkins is our first priority." 

"I agree. Let's go." Diego nods, before he's interrupted. 

"I have a question," Melanie asks, raising her hand and watching as they turned to her.

"Say we find this sick son o' bitch, does anyone specific have to kill him or is it whoever sees him first?" 

Five frowns for a moment, before shrugging slightly. 

"Well, I'd say he was fair game, nothing else has said it needs to be otherwise." He replies, Melanie nodding with a small smile, a plan already formulating in her head as they continued to speak. 

"You guys can count me out." Klaus speaks up as Melanie stands up, ready to follow Five and Diego out, all stopping in their tracks at his words. 

"I mean, you know, no offence or whatever. It's just… I kind of feel like this is a whole lot of pressure for newly sober me, so…" 

"You're coming." Diego insists, but Klaus keeps trying to fight his point, the bickering growing more irritating by the second. 

"Klaus, get up." 

"You can't make me." He replies, eyes squinting at Diego as his face changes to a look one might describe as "oh really bitch" as he reaches for one of his knives, sending it directly into the couch between Klaus's legs. 

"Okay then again, a little exercise couldn't hurt." He sighs, getting up from the couch and leading the way out. 

"Idiots." Melanie says under her breath, Five being the only one to hear her. 

"At least some things never change." 

-

By the time the four arrive at Harold Jenkins house, the last of the moonlight is replaced by bright sunshine, Diego climbing out of the car first as the rest followed him. 

"You gonna jump through the door again?" Melanie asks him as he leads them to the front door. 

"You ever get tired from being the comedic genius of the family or does it just come naturally?" He asks her back sarcastically, frowning as they see the front door ajar. 

"Stay behind me." Melanie warns Five, stepping in front of Diego with her hands already starting to glow as she pushes the door open, ready to jump into action. 

Five squints at her attempt at protecting him, following behind Klaus and Diego as they quietly walk in behind her. 

"Oh, shit. Nevermind." She says, drawing back her powers as she stands in the archway of the kitchen, Harold's body laying lifeless in the middle of the room. 

"It's not exactly what I was expecting." Diego comments as the siblings filter around the chaotic scene.

Just about every sharp object within the house sat lodged into his body, one hell of a grizzly corpse being left on top of the shattered remains of a dining table and various other items of the kitchen.

"The understatement of the year." Five agrees, Klaus taking a closer look before looking to the rest of them. 

"No sign of Vanya." 

"Good, hopefully she's somewhere safe." Melanie comments, turning to follow Klaus and Diego as they walk out. 

"Let's get out of here, before the cops come." Diego instructs. 

"In a minute." Five stops them, bending down beside Harold's body. 

Five pulls a handkerchief from his pocket, dropping a prosthetic eye out of the folded fabric and taking the bandage off of Harold's face, slipping the eye into the socket with a disturbingly moist sound. 

"Same colour, same pupil size. Guys, this is it. The eye I've been carrying around for decades, it-" Five says happily, "it's found its rightful home."

"Poetic cinema." Melanie says sarcastically, speaking mostly just to cover up the noise of Five removing the eye again. 

"We got the guy we needed to kill to stop the apocalypse." Diego says in disbelief, Klaus quick to celebrate jokingly. 

"Yay! Let's go." 

Quickly turning to leave, Diego grabs the back of his shirt, pulling him back into the group between him and Melanie as Five speaks. 

"No, no. Wait. It can't be this easy." He frowns, standing up again, "look, this is the note I got from the commission. The one that says protect Harold Jenkins, aka Leonard Peabody." 

He pulls the paper from his pocket, the siblings gathering around him. 

"Yeah?" 

"But who killed him? Who did this?" Five asks, Klaus immediately chiming in. 

"I have a crazy idea. Crazy, but why don't we find Vanya and ask her what happened?" 

Before he can even finish his sentence, Five blips away, Melanie nodding at his idea and ignoring the fact Five was gone again. 

"I agree with him." Melanie says to Diego, who nods as well.

"If Vanya got away from this asshole, she might be headed back to the academy." He theorises, looking to Melanie as she claps her hands. 

"Let's get back then so we can set up the welcome party." 

It doesn't take the three of them long to get back to the academy, Five already searching for Vanya as they arrive and start assisting in his efforts. 

"No sign of Vanya." He sighs, as the four of them converge on the upper level of the foyer. 

"She's not in any of the rooms." Diego replies, Klaus flailing his hands helplessly. 

"She's not downstairs, either." 

"Or anywhere else in this damn place." Melanie adds, hands on her hips. 

"Well, I'm out." Diego announces, patting Klaus on the shoulder as he walks past him. 

"You're what?" Melanie asks, frowning as she watches him. 

"Wait, where are you going? Vanya's still out there, and so are Hazel and Cha-Cha." Five says, not able to detour him as he stops at the end of the hallway. 

"I know. I'm gonna get my things then I'm outta here. I've got some unfinished business with those fools." 

"And nows the time for the macho man saves the day act?" Melanie calls after him, annoyance reaching a fever point. 

"Good a time as any." He calls back, disappearing around the corner. 

Melanie sighs, leaning against the railing beside Klaus as Five turns to them. 

"Hey, did Dad say anything about the apocalypse when you spoke to him? Any clue on how it happens?" Five asks Klaus, who just shakes his head in response. 

"No, no clues. Truly terrific shave. But no clues." 

Five sighs aggressively before he starts walking away, Klaus running to keep up with him as Melanie crossed her arms and followed along. 

"Well come to think of it he did mention something about my potential, and how I've barely scratched the surface of my-" 

"How did he know about the apocalypse?" Five asks, interrupting him. 

"I don't know, but listen. This whole jumping through time thing of yours, how did… how did you know how to do that?" Klaus asks, stopping him at the bottom of the stairs. 

"I didn't." He admits, "you'd realise that if you were actually sober." 

Melanie frowns at his words, completely discrediting his brother for no good reason. 

"Hey I am sober. I've been sober for two, almost two days now. It feels like forty-five years." He argues, but Five just walks away towards the living room. 

"Who are you kidding, Klaus? I've seen you fidgeting all day." Five frowns, Klaus taking a step closer to him. 

"If he wasn't sober I wouldn't be able to hear Ben. But I've been hearing him for at least the last day now so maybe you're actually wrong for once." Melanie defends, walking down the stairs and standing by her brother's side. 

"Exactly. At least I have back up for what I'm saying. I guess we're both fighting our addictions." Klaus says lowly, Five shaking his head in denial. 

"I'm not an addict." 

"Yeah you are." Klaus says, "You're addicted to a drug called the apocalypse." 

"You're wrong." 

"First sign. Denial." Klaus points out, turning to walk away but getting stopped as Five blips into his path, finger pointing in his face. 

"You and I, we're not the same." 

"I've seen that look in the eyes of someone who doesn't know who they are without their high anymore. Trust me. You gotta just let it go." 

With a scowl on his face, Five throws the prosthetic eye past Melanie, it shattering against the wall as he storms off. 

Melanie watches Five walk off again, before looking to Klaus, who stands wringing his hands beside her. 

"I know you're not lying. I think they just might need a bit more convincing than I do." She smiles sadly at him, placing a supportive hand on his shoulder. 

"Yeah, yeah, maybe." He agrees with a sigh, watching as she pats his arm before walking away. 

chapter eleven coming saturday, oct 12th

#Umbrella academy #tua #the umbrella academy #tua fanfic #Umbrella academy imagine #umbrella academy fanfic #tua imagine #ben hargreeves imagine #ben hargreeves fanfic #Ben hargreeves

[starlit-serenade]

Dance With Me | Chapter 7

💙 Summary: After visiting the members of ONEUS during their dance practice, you find yourself inspired to learn to dance. You ask your friend Kim Geonhak to teach you.

💙 Chapter 7: 2,479 words

💙 Pairing: Reader X Kim Geonhak/Leedo / Characters: GenderNeutral!Reader; Kim Geonhak/Leedo; Son Dongju/Xion; Yeo Hwanwoong/Hwanwoong; Lee Keonhee/Keonhee; Lee Seoho/Seoho; Kim Youngjo/Ravn;

💙 Rated: T for some minor swearing / Warnings: Minor Swearing; Jealousy (Later in the fic) / Genre: Fluff; Minor Angst (Later in the fic); Friends-To-Lovers; Happy Ending;

《 Series Masterlist // ONEUS Masterlist // Boy Group Masterlist 》

You carry a plastic bag with you as you head into the RBW building. You hadn't told the members that you were coming, hoping to surprise them after a long week of practice. It's been a few days since Geonhak's birthday, a busy yet fun day. At some point, later at night after dinner, Geonhak had pulled you aside to talk about learning the next song--Twilight--and in your excitement, you wanted to come to practice early.

A trainee in the hallway nods to you. You've spent enough time here that you know most of everyone at RBW. You're friends with ONEUS and ONEWE. You're close with quite a few of the trainees, and you've even met the members of MAMAMOO.

You stop in front of the practice room again. The music is playing gently in the background, but instead of being accompanied by the sounds of dancing footsteps, it's accompanied by laughter and chatter.

You place your hand on the doorknob and poke your head in. The six members are sitting in a circle, chatting about who knows what. Something about a new song or something.

"Hello?" you say, knocking on the doorframe. They look over at you, and you hold out the bag of food. "I got you guys some food, if you guys want it."

"Y/N!"

Dongju runs to you, and you expect a hug. Instead, he takes the bag of food from your hand and sits back down in his spot between Keonhee and Hwanwoong, and the three start digging through the bag.

"Wow, I thought you'd be happy to see me, not the food," you say, laughing. Geonhak, across the circle, scoots aside and beckons you to come sit in the newly made spot between him and Youngjo. You do, and smile over at him.

"Excited for practice today?" he asks quietly, smiling widely. "You've got Lit all the way done. And Valkyrie is most of the way there. We should be able to start with Twilight today."

You clap gently, very excited. Geonhak chuckles and smiles his cute, nose-scrunchy smile.

"Geonhak," Keonhe says. "Come with me to finish heating the food."

Geonhak sighs, before getting up.

"I'm excited for this afternoon," you say to him as he leaves.

Hwanwoong looks up from the takeout in his hands, from the other side of the circle. "What's going on this afternoon?"

"Oh, I'm gonna start learning Twilight with Geonhak."

"Oh right! I forgot you're dancing with Geonhak. How's that going?" Hwanwoong asks excitedly. "What have you learned so far, Y/Nie?"

"Geonhak has taught me A Song Written Easily, Lit, and I'm almost done learning Valkyrie."

"Oh?" Youngjo asks. "You should show us what you have done for A Song Written Easily. Let's see how good of a teacher Geonhak is."

You stand up, and Seoho plays the song from his phone. You start dancing along with the music, recalling Geonhak's movements as you watch yourself in the mirror. The members in the room--Yongjo, Seoho, Hwanwoong and Dongju--clap and cheer you on.

Once you finish, you bow as they applaud you.

"That was great," Hwanwoong says. "Geonhak's a good teacher, hm?"

"Yes, he is."

"I'm not surprised. And it shows. You dance like you've been doing it for a long time," Hwanwoong says.

"You said you're working on Valkyrie?" Seoho says. You nod. "Why don't you show us, and we give you some pointers?"

"Alright."

You dance as Seoho plays the song from his phone.

"At that part," Hwanwoong says. "You should bend your front knee more. It'll make it easier to move on to the next part."

You nod, continuing the dance.

As you reach the end of the song, your right hand stretched upward, the members clap for you. You sit back down, smiling from all of the attention.

"So, how'd you manage to get Geonhak to teach you right before our comeback?" Hwanwoong asks.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm just curious about how you got Geonhak to teach you," Hwanwoong says, eyebrow raised.

"Well," you say, "I asked Geonhak because I was too nervous to ask you, actually."

"What? We're friends, aren't we?"

"Yes, but back then we weren't as close as we are now." You laugh at the thought. "But now we're much closer."

"Hey, I'm still open to teaching you if you're interested, Y/N," Hwanwoong says. You open your mouth. Would it be rude to reject him?

But Geonhak is already teaching you.

The sound of a door closing echoes through the room, but you're too focused on the conversation to notice it.

Suddenly, Dongju smacks Hwanwoong's arm and whispers something in his ear. Hwanwoong looks from the door to you.

"Or not. Geonhak seems to be doing a great job at teaching you already, you know," he says quickly. You nod.

"Yeah. Thanks for the offer, though."

Keonhee walks over and hands out the snacks, small tubs of food. He hands you one and you frown.

"Where's Geonhak?" you ask Keonhee.

"He said he was going to the restroom," Keonhee says. He seems to want to say more, but doesnt.

As the ONEUS practice comes to a close, Geonhak doesn't appear. You ask Youngjo, and he seems as concerned as you. The rest of the members pack up to go to their respective spaces after practice ends. Youngjo heads to the studio, and Hwanwoong, Dongju and Keonhee pack up to head to the dorm. Geonhak is nowhere to be found.

Seoho taps your shoulder.

"If Geonhak doesn't show up," he says, "I'll be two rooms down, and Youngjo is in the studio. If you need either of us, feel free to interrupt either of us. Okay?"

"Thank you," you say. He waves goodbye and leaves the room. You're left alone in the practice room.

You pace back and forth. You still have ten minutes until your practice technically starts. Perhaps he went to get an extra snack for the two of you. Maybe he had to get something from the dorm.

But as the minutes pass, you remain alone in the practice room. Five minutes, then ten minutes past the start of your practice together, you're sitting with your back against the wall.

You take out your phone and call Geonhak. He doesn't pick up. You call again, and he doesn't pick up. The third time you call, the phone rings for a long time, and just as you're about to hang up, the other end picks up.

"Hello?" Geonhak's voice is muffled by the phone, but you'd recognize his voice anywhere.

"Geonhak," you say, breathless with stress yet relieved that he picked up. "Where the hell are you? Our practice started ten minutes ago."

There's a long pause. Or at least, it feels long. "Why don't you ask Hwanwoong to teach you?"

"What?" You pause for a moment, trying to figure out what's going on. "Geonhak . . ."

"You know what? I'm feeling a bit sick, I'm going to hang up. Bye."

He hangs up, and you're left alone in your thoughts.

What the hell?

You want to curl up. What is all this about? Geonhak is obviously mad at you for something, but as you think through the day, nothing comes up.

You sniff and wipe your eyes. Your hand comes away wet, and you realize that you're crying.

You stand up, sniffling, and sluggishly make your way out of the practice room, down the hall, and knock on the door to your right. The door to the studio opens up, and Seoho is standing beside the door, hand on the doorknob. Further into the room, Youngjo is sitting in front of the computer. 

"Y/N?" Youngjo asks, leaning away from the computer. "Are you okay? Aren't you in practice with Geonhak?"

You look between them, and Seoho's face falls. He can tell from the sullen look on your face. You two might not be super close, but he still knows you.

"He didn't come," Seoho concludes. His voice sounds as sad as yours. He opens his arms. "Come here."

You hug him, and for some reason, you're crying into Seoho's chest. You don't see Youngjo and Seoho exchange worried glances.

"Do you want to sit down, Y/Nie?" Seoho asks, gesturing to the chairs against the back wall. You nod and sit with him. He hugs you and pats your back gently.

You hear clicking and look up. Youngjo is pressing things on his phone furiously.

"What are you doing?" you ask.

"Calling Geonhak."

You stare at him as he holds his phone to his ear.

"Geonhak, where are you?" he scolds into the phone. There's a pause. "Y/N is waiting for you, why aren't you here? You need to come back. No  Geon--Geonhak! You can't just do that to them." He pauses, and then his voice softens. "They're in the studio with me and Seoho. Geonhak, what's going on with you? Geonhak!"

He takes his phone away from his ear and sighs.

"Youngjo . . . what'd he say?" you ask.

"He told me he's at the dorm. He's not coming back. He didn't say why."

You nod. At this point, you just want to know why Geonhak isn't here. Why he's mad at you like this. You two have argued before, you've been friends for years. So what could you have possibly done to make him suddenly leave you?

Or is this him getting back at you for the one time you left him during practice, because he got too close to you?

"That stubborn kid . . ." Youngjo looks at you and pauses. "The youngest three should be at the dorm by now. I'll ask Keonhee to check on him."

He types a text to Keonhee, then sets his phone aside. He turns his chair to face you.

"Are you okay, Y/N?" he asks gently. "I know these practices mean a lot to you. They mean a lot to Geonhak, too. I don't know what's wrong, but it's not your fault, okay?"

"Thank you, Youngjo. And Seoho," you say. "I don't know why he's upset at all. I think I did something but K don't know what."

"Wait, wait," Seoho says, thinking. "Geonhak disappeared right after you brought us snacks. You only saw him for a bit before he went to help Keonhee with the snacks, before he left. What could have happened in that time?"

You shake your head. You don't know.

Suddenly, Youngjo's phone rings. He picks it up quickly.

"Hello? Ah, Keonhee. He won't? What's he--oh. Please keep us updated, Okay Keonhee? Thank you." He pauses and whispers to you. "Geonhak won't say anything to them. He barely said hello when they walked into the room."

You want to find it comforting. That you're not the only one he's ignoring. You want to think that he might be mad at someone else, one of the members, but not you. But you have a feeling, deep down, that it has something to do with you.

"Y/Nie," Seoho says. "If you want, you can stay here. We'll walk you home after we finish, okay?"

"Okay," you say.

Geonhak sits on his bed, phone in hand. He's watching music videos, listening to music, playing games, anything. Anything to distract him from you. But he can't help but think back to only a few hours ago at the end of the ONEUS practice.

He was so excited to teach you today. He'd practiced extra this morning, redoing the Twilight choreography a few times and figuring out the little things like positioning.

He was elated to see you come in early. He couldn't help but smile when he saw you, both in general and today.

When he had walked back into the room to hand out some of the snacks, he saw you talking to Hwanwoong.

"I asked Geonhak because I was too nervous to ask you, actually," he had heard you say through the crack in the door. He knew this already. You'd told him the same thing when you asked him to teach you. But he doesn't like hearing he was your second choice.

"What? We're friends, aren't we?" he had heard Hwanwoong say.

"Yes, but back then we weren't as close as we are now." Geonhak heard you laugh. He loved your laugh. But he didn't want to hear you laughing with Hwanwoong. "But now we're much closer."

"Hey, I'm still open to teaching you if you're interested, Y/N," Hwanwoong had said. Geonhak froze. Now that you and Hwanwoong were close, there was no need for you to reject him. After all, he was the main dancer.

Geonhak loved teaching you dancing. He loved teaching and being helpful, he loved spending time with you, and this was a combination of the two. But thinking that you could always Hwanwoong teach you instead . . .

Geonhak turned around, closing the door a bit louder than he had intended, and stepped back. Keonhee had nearly walked into him.

"Aren't you going inside?" Keonhee asked, frowning.

"I, uh, yeah. Take these, please, I have to go to the restroom," Geonhak had said, handing Keonhee the food. He walked past him and headed down the hall, straight back to the dorm.

All he could think of was Hwanwoong teaching you instead of him. Hwanwoong offered to teach you, why would you refuse when the whole reason you didn't ask him in the first place was because you were too shy, and now you're closer?

"Geonhak?"

He looks over to the doorway, and Keonhee is standing there.

"Oh, you're home."

"Geonhak, are you okay? Are you feeling sick?" Keonhee asks.

He tries to think of a way to answer the question, but how to do that? No? Yes? He turns away from Keonhee.

"Let me know if you need anything."

After a moment, he hears Keonhee leave the room. He hears speaking in the other room. Dongju and Hwanwoong. Shouldn't he be glad that Hwanwoong is here instead of teaching you?

He starts to think of you again. You must be still with Youngjo and Seoho at RBW. You must be so mad at him for abandoning you before practice.

He's liked you for a long time. Long before he started teaching you dancing. He met you maybe four years ago, and he started thinking of you as more than a friend perhaps two years ago. You'd never seemed to feel the same way, and so he never acted on those feelings. But spending time with you, teaching you to dance, he thought maybe there was a chance that you might feel the same. That maybe you could be more than friends.

And then he'd heard Hwanwoong offering to teach you instead. He felt himself feeling absolutely crushed, absolutely deflated. So very jealous. He still feels that way, that he likes you so much and that to you, you're just friends.

#oneus #leedo #kim gunhak #kim geonhak #oneus fanfic #oneus fanfiction #leedo fanfic #leedo fanfiction #kim geonhak fanfic #kim geonhak fanfiction #kim gunhak fanfic #kim gunhak fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #myfic

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S1:E2; Chapter Two, The Weirdo On Maple Street- [Pt. 3]

A Will Byers x Gender Neutral!Reader Series

𝘠/𝘯, 𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘢𝘴, 𝘋𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘔𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯.

||𝟑𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

"Ready are you? What knows you of ready?" Mike spoke in a voice that was supposed be Yoda's.

Mike had been showing her his room; he was now showing her all of his toys. El gave him strange looks at his unusual voice. He continues in his normal voice.

"His name is Yoda. He can use the Force to move things with his mind, like this." Mike then quickly shoves all of the toys off the table.

"Whoosh!"

Eleven looks around and all sorts of items she had never seen before on Mike's dresser. Mike, had now moved on to his favorite dinosaur toy.

"This is my dinosaur, Rory. Look, he has a speaker in his mouth so he can roar." He turns to show her, only to realize she was now by his dresser and was looking closely at everything in curiosity. He put down Rory and joined her.

Eleven took note of all the things before her; what appeared to be a shiny gold woman with wings and many other figurines like it that stood on wooden platforms.

"Oh, these are all my science fair trophies. We got first every year. Except for last year when we got third. Mr. Clarke said it was totally political."

El smiled at one of the trophies that read HAWKINS MIDDLE SCHOOL TEAM PROBLEM SOLVING CHAMPIONS, next to it a picture with five kids all holding a large trophy. El recognized everyone. She smiled when she saw the only friend of Mike's that offered to help her; Y/n. They were standing in the middle, one hand holding the trophy, the other one was behind a smiling boy, two fingers sticking up making it look like he had bunny ears.

El's smile fell when it dawned on her that she recognized the boy. She gasped silently, her mouth agape. Mike took note of this and watched her carefully as she slowly brought her finger to the picture. Mike watched as her finger landed on his missing friend.

He looked back at her in shock. "You know Will?" She didn't say anything, her mouth still open and a very concerned look on her face.

"Did you see him? Last night? On the road?"

Before she could say anything, the loud noise of halting vehicle broke the silence. Mike quickly ran to his window in a panic, his mom was pulling up the driveway.

He ran back over to El.

"We gotta go."

He grabs her hand, yanks open his bedroom door, and drags her down the steps. He halts at the landing of stairs, staring in horror as his mom is at the front door, closing it behind her. Her youngest, Holly was in her arms, and so were her groceries. Before she could see anything, Mike ran back upstairs with El, as quickly and quietly as possible.

Karen Wheeler stopped in her tracks when she thought she heard someone upstairs.

"Ted? Is that you?" She calls out.

"Just me mom!" Mike yelled out frantically as he ran through the hallway.

"Mike? What are you doing home?"

"One second!" He brought El back into his room and lead her to his closet, not before closing his bedroom door.

"In here. I'll be right back, okay?" Mike instructed, slightly out of breath.

El stood rooted in place, fear in her eyes.

But Mike was frantic. "Please, you have to get in, or my mom, she'll find you. Do you understand?" El only looked at the closet, then back at Mike.

"I won't tell her about you. I promise."

"Promise?" She asked, clearly confused.

"It means something that you can't break. Ever." He explained quickly.

"Michael?" Mike's mom could be heard from downstairs.

They both looked to the door, then back at each other. "Please?" Mike pleaded.

El looks between Mike and the closet, unsure before walking inside, and turning to Mike. He quickly closed the door and she began to back up further into the closet, panic setting in.

- 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 -

"Pop!"

Eleven struggles to break free from the men's hold as they carry her by her arms down, back into the room.

Sobs racked her body as she uses all her strength to turn and look back at Papa.

"Papa!" He steps out into the hallway and remains standing, doing nothing to help her, yet she still calls for him.

"Papa! No!" She screams her throat raw and her legs never stop kicking.

"Papa!"

They round the corner and at the end of the short hallway lays the dreaded room. The cold unwelcoming florescent lights flood from the open door. Her resistance becomes stronger and more violent.

"No! No! No!"

Her screams become incoherent when the two men chuck her to the ground, she scrambles to feet in an attempt to stop the copper door from closing. Alas, she is too late for the steel door had slammed shut before her.

"Papa!" She yelled, slamming her palms against the cold copper.

"Papa!" She tries banging her fists, but to no avail.

"Papa! Papa! Papa!" Her screams turn to sobs.

"Papa."

She backs away from the door and retreats to the corner of the very small room where she tucked herself away. Her heart sinks to the floor with her, unable to do anything but curl up in a ball on the ice cold tile.

"Papa." She whimpers quietly.

- 𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗢𝗙 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 -

Eleven backs up until her back hit the wall and she slides down till she is sitting on Mike's floor. She hugs her knees to her chest and allows her sobs to come.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"I just... I don't feel good." Mike was sat, hands folded together on his couch with his mother. He was giving her a false excuse of why he was at home during a school day.

"I woke up and my head, it really hurt bad, and my throat was all scratchy, and I wanted to tell you, but the last time I told you I was sick you made me go to school anyway, and-"

"Michael."

"Yeah?"

"I'm not mad at you."

Mike was surprised to hear this from his mother.

"No?"

"No, of course not." She adjusted herself so that she was closer to her son, grabbed his hand in her's and sighed.

"All this that's been going on with Will, I can't imagine what it's been like for you."

Mike looks down to his lap, taking it in. No one had asked how he was doing with his best friend missing. It was hard. The whole party was worried. He never considered that and it was... refreshing to hear that his mother understood. He looked back at his mother as she continued.

"I just... I want you to feel like you can talk to me. I never want you to feel like you have to hide anything from me. I'm here for you. Okay?"

He nods his head. They both look up when they hear a soft thud from upstairs.

"Is there someone else here?" She asks.

Michael considers what his mom just told him. "No."

"Huh. Weird. Hey by the way, did you do something to my plant out front? It looks amazing!"

"Oh, that? Um, well, no that was Y/n."

"Really? Wow! That's incredible, they need to tell me their secret. I could really use their help! Say, speaking of Y/n," she nudged her son, a teasing smirk on her face. "Anything going on between you two? Do you like them? Does they like you?" She asked, getting more excited with each question.

Mike's face scrunched up. "Ugh! Mom! They're just a friend! They're like family! How many times do I have to say that?" He whines.

"You're right, you're right! I'm sorry, my bad." She throws her hands up in surrender. "It's just... you two would be so cute toge—"

Mike stands up from the couch quickly. "Mom!" He interrupts, then sighs. "Thank you for understanding and letting me stay home, it means a lot, really. But I should probably go upstairs now and lay down, okay? Okay. Bye."

He runs upstairs before she can respond, leaving her sitting on the couch, in confusion.

"...Okay," she says to no one in particular.

||𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

Lucas, Dustin and I had biked to Mike's house to meet him there. Once we arrived, he quickly rushed us up to his room. El was sitting on Mike's bed, a blanket on her legs. I remain standing next to everyone else but I give El a smile and a wave. She timidly smiles and waves back.

"Are you out of your mind?" Lucas argued.

"Just listen to me." Mike began.

"You are out of your mind!"

"She knows about Will."

My head snaps up at the mention of him. "What?" I quickly look to El and then back at Mike, my eyes wide.

"What do you mean she knows about Will?" Dustin asks for me.

Mike took a few steps towards his dresser and picked up the picture of all five of us at the science fair.

"She pointed at him, at his picture. She knew he was missing. I could tell."

"You could tell?"

"Just think about it. Do you really think it was a coincidence that we found her on Mirkwood, the same place that Will disappeared?"

"That is weird." Dustin agreed.

I turned and slowly walked over to El, cautiously taking a seat next to her, but still giving her enough space. "Is that true?" I ask in a gentle whisper. She looked me in the eye and gulped, and ever so slightly nodded her head 'yes'.

I chuckle in disbelief and look at the boys hopefully.

"And she said bad people are after her. I think that maybe these bad people are the same ones who took Will."

"Guys, think about it. I think he's right. I think she might know what happened to him." I speak up, hope in my voice.

"Then why doesn't she tell us?"

"Well, maybe she's scared of you two," I accuse.

"Why should she be scared? I'm tired of this." He walks straight over to her and starts raising his voice.

"Do you know where he is?"

"Lucas..." I warn, my hands subconsciously ball into a fist in anger.

Suddenly he grabs her by the shoulders, shaking her and begins yelling in her face. "Do you know where Will is?"

"LUCAS!" I bark. Standing up immediately, I rip his arms of her, she's cowering in fear. "Dammit man, get your hands off of her! And you wonder why she's scared," I scoffed, crossing my arms.

"She should be scared! If you know where he is, tell us!" She doesn't say anything and she bites her lip trying not to cry. "Lucas! Listen to me. I know you're scared and worried about Will, okay? We all are, but we have to be patient okay? She's scared, she's lost, she probably doesn't know who to trust, we just need to be kind to her alright?" I plead.

"Ya know what? No. There's no time. This is nuts. We have to take her to your mom." He says turning back to Mike.

"No! Eleven said telling any adult would put us in danger." Mike argues.

For the first time in a while, Dustin spoke up, his voice soft.

"What kind of danger?"

"Her name is Eleven?" Lucas asks.

"El for short." Mike corrected casually.

"Mike, what kind of danger?" Lucas pressed, his voice grew significantly louder.

"Danger danger," Mike yelled back.

I look around, breathing heavily as I take everything in. Mike puts his hand up to my brother's forehead in the shape of a gun. Then the same to Lucas. Lucas swats away Mike's hand almost immediately.

Lucas begins to panic. "No, no, no! We're going back to plan A. We're telling your mom."

I try to grab his arm as he stomps towards the door, but he shoves my hand away. He rips open the door, only for the door to be slammed shut all on it's own, making everything around the room shake. We all stare at the door in confusion. He tries it again, but the door continues to slam shut. Then, we all see the lock turn by itself.

'Okay, well... I know I didn't imagine that.'

Simultaneously, we all turn to El to find her standing, blood dripping from her nose giving Lucas quite possibly the sharpest glare I have ever seen.

"No." She states firmly. It's enough to send a chill down my spine.

It's silent for a few moments and I breathe out a shocked chuckle. "That... was the coolest thing I have ever seen."

#you'll float queue #stranger things #will byers x reader #reader insert #will byers #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #cosmic #y/n henderson #el hopper #eleven #gn!cosmic #gn!reader #x gn reader #will byers x gn!reader #the weirdo on maple street