#i never really went to panic that much so idk the details as much as other people might? but this is all well documented

[jerseymuppet]

Hi idk much about panic at the disco. Apart from his music why does everyone hate him so much?

God where to begin… p!atd was never really meant to continue after the original members agreed to disband, but brendon being the piece of shit he is decided to keep the name and keep going anyway. Great move. Theres the racism, the well documented predatory behavior towards women and minors. The way his bodyguard was sexually harassing women (including dallons wife btw) and brendon didnt fire the guy until last year. The way brendon sexually harassed the other members of panic. The list is long and bountiful. He also just has a shit attitude which made it hard to like him, and then paired with everything i just listed….

[mvltisstuff]

Evan Buckley & female reader - a fic where instead of the firetruck crushing buck’s leg, it crushes the reader’s leg instead and the reader is in the firetruck when it explodes and Buck & reader have been engaged for 2 years. Buck is worried and scared and panics when he sees the reader underneath the truck. He helps her through the physical therapy of getting back her leg strength and helps her through how she is told she may not be able to be a firefighter again.

lots of angst, heartbreak, sadness, anger, fluff too 💙

love ur 911 fics so much ❤️‍🩹

are you with me - e.b

summary: request

evan buckley x reader

a/n: i’m so happy you guys like my fics, i have plenty coming your way soon 🩶 btw this started off pretty strong and idk what happened toward the end w the quality

it’s never realized how much calamity one person can cause in such a large city. people get in their cars to go to work, they order a package, they stop at the store, and the last thing they expect is an explosion right at their feet.

over three million people in los angeles, and one forced 30 tons of weight onto y/n’s leg. it was just work. something she does every single day. of course, nothing in life ever remains the same, but this is really something you can never expect. you watch it in movies, or you hear about it in the news, only until it happens to you.

she knew the bones in her leg were crushed upon the impact, the engine thrown on its side. buck watched from a distance, being held back by the police. he would do anything for her. he wanted to tear this kid to shreds. he saw y/n’s broken leg under the truck and her head weakly lifting up. he could almost hear the pained gasps and whimpers from her lips. y/n, on the other hand, felt like she was in the center of the ring, the joke of this kid.

all the bystanders watched the scene unfold, the boy trying to summon the captain of the 118. it felt unreal. the noise and the truck shaking the ground they walked on.

buck thought he hallucinated the sparkling ring on y/n’s hand, somehow managing to remind him of the fight he was about to do. he vividly remembers the day he got down on his knee, bargaining the rest of his life to her and crying when she said yes. the whole team had been there, watching from a distance as her hand covered her mouth and lifted him from the floor. their wedding was being planned, every last detail needing to be perfect for the couple.

most people’s instinct would be to run away, but buck wanted to run toward the chaos. if y/n was there, so was he. his life mission has been to keep her safe, and knowing someone went out of his way to hurt her makes him go crazy. the exact moment that freddie was taken down with his overcomplicated vest, buck found himself running to her. he instantly fell onto his knees, seeing the ash and tears on her face close up.

she wished she couldn’t feel it, but she felt every part of it. she didn’t know anything. was her leg even connected to her anymore? buck moved himself closer to her so she could hear him over the murmuring of watchers.

“hey! hey, y/n,” he starts.

“it h-hurts so bad,” she whines, making him grimace himself.

“son of a bitch, ok. we’re gonna get you out of there, yeah?”

“please,” she begs, almost inaudible. buck stands up, calling for anyone he can to lift the truck off her, which was almost impossible with a few people around. hen was on the ground, connecting machines to y/n’s harmed figure.

“hang in there, y/n/n,” she says softly. “we’ve got you.”

despite his entire body weight being used to lift the ladder engine, it didn’t budge once. the only thing it did was echo the raw screams from y/n, poisoning bucks ears making his heart speed up. the adrenaline pumping through his system was making him think he could do it.

“do you have anything on the truck we can use for leverage?” eddie asks to a panicked bobby, trying to save one of his workers and best friends.

“it’s too heavy, it wouldn’t work,” bobby says as a light goes off in bucks head.

“more people,” he mumbles. “we need more people! hey! all of you, get over here and lift this!” he shouts at the mob of people observing the accident. not hesitating, the civilians sprint over and grab onto any part of the truck that they can.

y/n was in grievous pain, dreading the agony that would come when they finally lifted it. she was right, it was tormenting, releasing shrieks she didn’t know she had. before she could rethink everything, she was tugged from under and flipped onto her back. buck couldn’t peel his gaze away from the blood that has completely stained her pant leg and the parts of her leg that should be inside of it. complete shock and fear took over his body, but not enough to stand there with her the whole time. he watched chimney and hen bandage up her leg and move her into the ambulance, where buck sat next to her. hen was in the back with him, chim being the designated driver. unfortunately, y/n had been awake for the entire experience. from the second the engine flipped, to the second she was lifted into the ambulance. as much buck was grateful that she was awake, he almost wanted her to pass out. she wouldn’t have to endure this much pain, despite the morphine kicking in.

y/n’s hand twitched in bucks, “buck?” she grumbles out.

“y/n,” he makes note of her panicked state. “i’m here, you’re ok. i’m not going anywhere, honey.”

“someone should tell the city that we need a n-new truck,” buck laughs at her mind and how it works before running a hand through her hair.

“you don’t have to worry about that,” says buck. “you have no idea how relieved i am that you’re ok.”

“we’re getting married soon,” she realizes. “shit, we were supposed to get married soon-“

“shh, it’s all gonna work out, ok?” buck reassures. “i’d marry you no matter what, broken leg or not.”

“promise?”

“i promise.”

the hours sitting in the waiting room were grueling. maddie had left to be with buck, watching the entire scene go down on the news. even her heart ached, watching someone she already considers family have to face something like this. the whole team was anxiously waiting for the surgeon to come out and say she’d be ok. she held them together like a true family, being the most stable relationship they had. she was the part of the station that made their bond unbreakable. watching her vulnerable condition under that truck was almost intolerable. the time that she wasn’t in work felt like a missing puzzle piece.

weeks had passed since the bombings of LA, and buck had been there every single day. in sickness and in health, he hasn’t said the words out loud, but he swore to that since the day he met her. he knows that she would do the same exact thing for him, and he would spend every single day helping her.

y/n felt completely isolated in their small apartment, barely being able to leave the first floor. she craved work, she desperately awaited the day that she could return, but the injury in her leg hadn’t resolved. no matter how many times she tried to convince herself, she didn’t know if she’d ever be a firefighter again. at some point, she almost envied her fiancé for being able to go to work. he felt so bad for her, just wanting to give her her life back. the weekly doctors appointments were draining her of almost everything she had, every single one proving nothing. nothing that meant anything. the situation was completely out of anyone’s control, and she had consumed so much anger about it. anger at the doctors, the therapists, the kid, the 118, everyone around her.

buck was forced to sit back and watch, to act as a shoulder to cry on. he was the third crutch, the person she leaned on when she couldn’t stand on her own. there was no way in hell she could’ve done it alone. buck was the one to drive her to every appointment and helped carry some of the burden.

at the end of the day, there were two things that scared y/n the most. losing buck and losing her job. the two things that got her out of bed and the two things that gave her a true meaning. as time passed and every request to be back at work was denied, she swore her heart hurt more than her leg.

“y/n?” buck called out after arriving back home. she had been on the couch, watching another drama series about firefighters. “hi, how are you doing?” he asked when spotting her in the living room. she didn’t respond, just looked at the television with the volume low. he went and sat next to her.

“what’s wrong? did something happen?”

her eyes had already been bothered from tears of anger and frustration, and he could clearly see that with his own. “they called again.”

“wasn’t the answer you wanted?”

“i have been pushing myself every day for approval, and i have not gotten anything for it,” she says, dryly. “i have been killing myself to go back to what i love and why am i not getting anything?” her voice cracks.

“listen,” he tries to distract her from her own negativity and forces her to look at him. “i know you’ve heard this a million times, but you have to let yourself take the time to heal. if you go back too soon, you’re going to make it worse.”

her nose scrunches at bucks words, causing her to sniffle as he continues. “i know, it sucks, and i am so, so sorry. it’s just that none of us want to see you do more harm than good. we need you back as a firefighter, but i need you back to normal first. you’re worth so much more than this, and this injury is not going to take you out, we all know it.”

y/n opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out besides the small beginning of a word. she knows he’s right, but having to come to terms with that is the hardest part of it all. she begins to cry lightly again, her face in her hands as she leans forward. buck slides over, wrapping his arms around his distressed fiancé.

y/n took bucks advice, and now, she stands in the entrance of the firehouse. she walks in to see her uniform waiting for her in her cabinet, her gear untouched, and it feels like she was here yesterday. she feels at home here. buck follows her in, grabbing her hand and they restart the rest of their lives.

[dervampireprince]

Hii Prince!

I wanted to ask why you started to post asmr roleplay audios, idk if you explained it in old post or on twitch lives, in that case I'm sorry to bother with the same question .

I really appreciate your work and it really helps me throughout hard times (especially this period)so thank you so so so much.

i have been asked this a lot on various places, though the only post about it i can find in my faq tag doesn't go into much detail and is years old so buckle up because this got long and i'm sorry if you wanted a shorter answer. i'm going to actually tag creators that inspired me and i'm sorry if that's annoying to those creators, but i want to be able to shout them out and link them in the hope that you guys go and check out their audios! they're really talented and really deserve the support!

when i was a teen i didn't really have any friends and i was mentally ill and didn't have anyone to turn too. i fixated on fictional characters for comfort, and the main one was loki from marvel. i can't remember how i came across @tomhiddlestonsoundalike but i did and honestly his audios really helped me a lot. not only did a crazy accurate impression of tom hiddleston's loki, but he had comfort audios for crying and panic attacks that i would listen to probably hundreds of times. i didn't know what asmr was and i never went searching to see if anyone did anything similar at that time, but these audios will always mean so much to me and while the creator of that blog went on to make audios on youtube and reddit, he hasn't been active in years on any of his accounts but i will always be so grateful for him providing me with a little light in the darkness.

cut to me being an adult at university and struggling once again with my mental health and sleeping and somehow youtube starts recommending me asmr. i get into sound effect tapping ones at first, and then find roleplays, and then find audio only roleplays of people doing impressions of different characters.

around the same time on tumblr i discovered @kinkradio and really enjoyed his guzma audios, and soon i was listening to every audio he put out regardless of if i was familiar with the fandom. he started voicing more characters that i already liked from marvel and the arcana and i found a new place of comfort, as well as discovering nsfw fandom audios for the first time. i still hadn't figured out i was trans yet, but these were the first audios i felt comfortable listening too and surprise it's because they're gender neutral and all the audios from other creators i'd listened too before were aimed at female listeners. being able to imagine myself as whatever when listening to k's audios was really helpful and comforting as i figured myself out and i still love listening to his audios now (and sidenote it's always a comfort after coming out as trans to find that creators who's work you love are supportive of trans people). k is still making audios and posts here as well as youtube and has a patreon with exclusive audios (as someone who's been a patreon member of his on and off over the years i can say it's well worth supporting, you won't be disappointed by the bonus audios on there) and i'd so recommend his works. honestly he's probably my biggest inspiration in voice acting, both from his acting and accents, and from his care he takes when approaching comfort audios.

another big inspiration of mine that i discovered around this time is @darkandtwistedasmr who unlike everyone else i'd been listening to so far, doesn't focus on voicing fandom characters but his own original characters. i adore so many of them (if i had to pick favourites i really love jaspar (for someone usually uncomfortable with alcohol boy i sure have been relistening to jaspar's audio every night for the last few days again /lh), prim, blue, soleil, the rainbow serpent, alden, seki, the shepard, currently still crying over the fallen angel and merman from this years halloweek... okay so i struggled limiting my favourites to a few and i'm sure i've missed some out). anyway, that's the first time i'd gotten invested in characters through just hearing their voices, and of course the art of all the talented artists, and it really made me realise how asmr and audios can be used to tell stories as much as any other medium. when i'm really struggling to calm down enough to be able to sleep, i often turn to twisted's audios. he's able to make each character distinct and unique, even if he's using the same accent they always sound like separate characters and i'm always so drawn into their stories. and the character designs are always so beautiful and it really inspires me to designs more of my own original characters. again twisted posts here and youtube and also has a patreon with sfw and nsfw audios and again as someone who's been in the patreon it's well worth it.

by this point i'd listened to a few other different voice actors on youtube who primarily made anime character audios and was always a little disappointed as i didn't watch much anime anymore and wanted to see characters from fandoms i enjoyed. i thought hey if others can do it, and i already like writing fanfic... maybe i could write scripts? and try and voice them? i bought my first microphone in 2018 with the intention of recording asmrs, i even wrote scripts for napstblook from undertale, sidon from legend of zelda, rouxls from deltarune and venom from marvel. i even recorded the napstablook one and made a youtube channel to put asmr on... but i never posted it. i was too scared. i hated the sound of my voice and didn't know why (spoilers, it was gender dysphoria). and so i just tucked the idea of doing asmr voice acting away in the back of my mind to maybe try again in the future.

in 2021 i was having to consider what i was doing with my work. i'd graduated with a degree in illustration in 2019 and then lockdown happened and i couldn't get a job. honestly university hadn't prepared or taught me how to get a job in the industry anyway. i still had my etsy shop i'd started in 2017 and kept that going, though could no longer work in person at artist alleys at comic cons due to lockdown and then my local cons never reopening after lockdown. etsy picked up during 2020 but by the end of 2021 it was going down. and i said to myself if i wasn't earning enough from etsy and my art by the end of 2022 i would have to just go out and get any job i could find, regardless of if it was in the art industry.

and then i watched this new show that just came out recently: arcane. i had latched onto viktor so tightly and had against my own will started vocal stimming by just talking in his accent to myself. and then i remembered about trying to make audios and do voice acting. and i thought you know this is really the last chance. if i want to be able to work from home i have to try everything. (at the time i wanted to work from home due to mental illness and how difficult i'd found it trying to work an in-person job in the past, at this point i hadn't developed my chronic hip/leg pain so i'm glad i set my sights on working from home before it became increasingly more difficult to go out to work. clearly i kinned viktor a little too close to the sun /j)

by this point i'd figured out i was a boy and been out as a trans man for years and while i did still have voice dysphoria, i figured i could learn to talk deeper and even edit my voice lower in post if needed (and indeed i did edit my voice deeper in post at first, but i'm proud to say now not all my audios have pitch editing as i've worked really hard on lowering my voice with t and every time someone points out how much deeper my voice sounds in audios now compared to ones from 2-3 years ago it makes me so happy). and i couldn't find anyone making audios for male listeners that were with fandom characters (apart from an occasional from kinkradio), and no fandom character audios for trans men, or trans people in general. i found it really hard to write and work with scripts, i couldn't predict how long it would take me to read one page, and i stumbled over my words too much when reading them. and then i thought hey i daydream all the time, i make up stories in my head all the time, can't i just... do that live and out loud? so i tried improvising and still improvise all of my audios.

i tried to be brave, posted some snippets here on tumblr where i was lucky enough to have already built up some following due to my nsfw writings. people were supportive and i finally started posting videos to that youtube channel i'd made years ago. started with only posting viktor audios and then expanded out into more characters. including getting to introduce you guys to some of my original characters.

what i wanted to achieve with making audios was to voice characters that were more obscure or that no one else had ever voiced just because i wanted to show my love for these characters, and to create an audio space that was a safe space and had audios focused on trans listeners and neurodivergency. as an autistic trans man, i wanted to be able to make the kind of audios i wished i could hear, and just hoped there were other people out there like me.

december 28th this year will mark 3 years since i posted that first arcane viktor asmr video on youtube. and i've gone from worrying about trying to find a job to this being my fulltime job. i still run my etsy shop, but the majority of my income is from my patreon where i post exclusive nsfw audios, and where my discord is that has gone from 5 to 200+ members and we chat and have watch parties and i love being in there. and i am so grateful to you guys, whether you are a patreon member or just watch my audios on youtube, however you show support means the world.

i couldn't have dreamed of this. i never planned on being a voice actor. but i did always dream of others caring about my original characters. and through starting out voicing fandom characters that people already knew, i was able to make original character audios and have people get to know my characters and sell merch?? of my ocs?? that people wanted to buy?? and did?? and people send me fanart they draw of them?? i have over 500 pieces of fanart that people have sent me?? (yes i save and treasure all of them, i have a fanart showcase slideshow that plays on my twitch starting soon, brb, and thanks for watching screens on stream). it's a dream come true and i honestly can't put into words how grateful i am.

i have some bigger plans a-brewing i hope you guys will enjoy. i really want to try and make more artwork of my original characters for my audios, and perhaps... try and make some more series of audios that have storylines, and maybe at least one of those won't have a listener character which i hope won't be off putting, it's more you're listening to a story happening between two characters that are voiced. i want to focus on working out backstories for characters, and finally giving you guys the long awaited names and designs for the villain and visiting king. and i'd love to make more new ocs more frequently, have more non-human looking ocs, and have more fun and detailed designs for my ocs.

that got long, i did warn you it would. but now the answer is actually written out for anyone curious. i hope again i haven't bothered any creators by tagging them, i just wanted to tag them so you guys can easily click on their names and see what wonderful things they create and voice! thank you so much anon for the kind words, i hope this all answered your question. /gen

[dozyrogue]

Ok im still thinking of the philza and tubbo fight cuz it reminds me of the marvel fandom when talking about the ending of cilvil war

Bucky killed tonys parents and tony tried to kill him, some where mad at tony cuz he tried to kill bucky but bucky was a victim. Others agreed but still pointed out that he still killed people. It goes into more details but I don't wanna do that

Philza says that we should help him cuz hes a friend and we should help each other, cuz hes a victim an doesn't have a choice. Lock him up and find a cure like last time. And yeah that's phil to a T, phil would travel to hell and back to protect his freinds. And he knows he has friend's who would do the same for him. Man's disappears and the island panics. Bolas would flock around their leader to protect him from the other teams

There's also the added fact that it does take a bit to earn philza's trust and forever has that trust. So to him he sees forever is clearly not himself and he knows how MUCH HE LOVES Tallulah and would never ever purposely hurt her. So something's wrong with forever obviously. And of COURSE he wants to help out forever back together again.

Like when he told tubbo we help forever and then said he would expect tubbo to help phil if he was ever in this position shows so much about phils character to me. Like u help each other so hearing someone u trust doing something as quick as killing him would freak me out lol.

Then theres my sweet traumatized tubbo, he can trust so easily but take his trust away just as easily, his self estime is so low that he expects everyone to be against him. then it was evern worse after purgatory 1 and fred things keep getting worse. And worse of all hes kidnapped from the island most people didn't know he was taken and was forced to leave his kid. In purgatory 2 mans finally had his targaryan moment and took them all down with him.

Then hes back and hears that forever suddenly is different...again. corralled all the kids into following him and that he hurt Tallulah and tried to kill chayanne. Sent ramon into a panic to the point man's PUT ON HIS ARMOR. he himself believes that the island would turn on him immediately if he did something wrong. So if course he would think the same if someone lost it AND HURT THE CHILDREN. he went into purgatory with the only thought of helping the children, and questioning why the other islanders forgot that the point of this. He even said himself that he would choose his godchildren anyway over fred. NoW HIS DAUGHTER IS IN THE MIX. AND ITS NOT EVEN THE FEDS GOING AFTER THE KIDS ITS ONE OF THEIR OWN.

So of course!!! To tubbo the only choice for forever is to kill him so he himself doesn't hurt the eggs again. For any of the islanders the idea of hurting the children even if they were the victim would probably ruin him.

I agree with both yes we should help forever but i agree with tubbo a bit more if forever is so possessed with whatever that hes going after the children???? Kill him, jail prison, lock him away.

And phil expecting for tubbo to help him if he was ever in the same position but tubbo made a promise to care for his godchildren if phil was ever in a place were he couldnt tubbo would fucking kill him.

Idk I really liked the fight shows the difference between the characters and specifically how tubbo changed as a character.

I probably have more thoughts on this but this is it??? Me thinks??

[bumpkinspice0]

Parallels: chapter 1

Miguel O'Hara x Spider!FemReader

No use of y/n

Rating: Explict

Word Count: 2842

Summary: You never had a 'spidey sense,' as you came to learn from your time as part of Spider Society. You'd gotten along this far without it and were an excellent spider-woman regardless. Then you meet Miguel O'Hara and it awakens something in you. A strange buzzing in the back of your head. It doesn't stop whenever he's in sight, and you think he knows what's happening to you.

Something about Miguel draws you in. What made him so fucking special?

Warnings: Smuuut, Oral (Fem receiving-in a public place), Mentions of masturbation (like barely), horny at work, Miguel being feral, spider hormone connection?? IDK

Notes: This is my first time sharing anything I've written, I have no idea what I'm doing. I just started this blog an hour ago for this shit. I swear a lot, i guess. Please go easy on me... and enjoy, my beloveds.

AO3

Next chapter

___________________________________

Chapter 1

Spidey Sense

At first, joining Spider Society was overwhelming. How could it not be? But also— strangely relieving. There were more of you. Enough to fill a 200-story tower. After years of doing this on your own, you had a community to lean on. A community just like you.

As your life in the spider citadel went on it became more and more obvious that no two spider people were exactly the same. Powers or personality-wise— well, actually all of you seemed to be pretty quick-witted. Everyone’s abilities seemed to differ ever so slightly, you were no exception.

You never had what you came to learn as a ‘spidey sense.’ You had wall-crawling, strength, agility, all the seemingly usual stuff— but just not this apparent danger warning your fellow spider people had. Your powers seemed to make up for themselves in the end. Whatever you may have lost with this other sense, you more than made up for in other ways.

You didn’t have an internal security system, but your remaining senses were easily double that of any of your counterparts. On top of that your webs were completely organic. No awkward shooters or web fluid to constantly worry about. You win some, you lose some. 

Still, it fascinated you. The ability to sense danger. A literal sixth sense. Having constant spacial awareness sounded amazing after the embarrassing amount of random pigeons you’d hit while swinging through the city.

You asked around about it whenever powers came into the conversation. It was as casual as talking about the weather for all of you. They all described it the same. An unmistakable gut feeling. A tingling in the back of your head, a spiked heart rate, and suddenly you knew every small detail that was happening around you. If you were being honest, it sounded like the beginnings of a panic attack. Random adrenaline spikes throughout the day didn’t sound like the funnest ability to deal with. You’d never felt anything remotely like what they were describing. 

Well, until you met him.

Met was a strong word, actually. Miguel was a reclusive leader. You’d only met him a handful of times. Jess was the one to recruit you into the spider-league and Miguel was just this invisible entity you’d only heard about in passing. Everyone talked about him with such high regard and respect that you just kind of mimicked their attitude without really knowing anything about him. He built this place. He had to be incredible. 

The first time you saw the illusive Spider-Man 2099 was in a meeting. Jess wanted to get you into some teamwork missions and you reluctantly agreed. You and about a dozen other of your spider-comrades were to inspect an anomaly in universe whatever. Don’t interact with anything. Only observe. It was clearly a bullshit team-building exercise for all of you. No one here really knew much about being part of a team.

The air in the room changed when Miguel walked in. Everyone instantly hushed. He commanded the space with such little effort. He was addressing the room when he made eye contact with you and you immediately felt intimidated. Christ, he was huge… and handsome. Beyond his obvious leg-buckling good looks, there was something else his gaze did to you.

A strange tingling in the back of your head.

His gaze stayed on you longer than you’d have liked, his head tilting ever so slightly before pulling his attention back to the rest of the room. The buzzing in your head didn’t go away until he left. 

What the hell was that?

“You alright?” Jess tapped your shoulder, bringing you back to reality. The rest of the room was dispersing into the portal. Clearly, you paid close attention to the debriefing you’d just sat through.

“Yep!” You answered just a little too loudly. “Just nerves, I guess. Let’s do this.” Your lead Spider-Woman gave a cheeky smile before leading you both into the portal.

That was the first time you’d noticed something weird.

You’d only see Miguel in passing or in crowded rooms with countless other spider people. It quickly became obvious that he was the cause of whatever was happening with you. No matter the situation, you still got that weird feeling whenever he was around. He’d always glance at you more than you’d like— but then again you did the same. As you climbed the ranks you worried you’d get stuck on missions with him. Luckily, he seemed to take his jobs solo. 

Still, ever the attentive leader he was, he soon was in every briefing you were. Every meeting and training— sitting on the other end of the room making your newfound spider sense scream in your head. It would start going off even before you entered the room. That’s how you’d know he’d be there— and your sense was right every time.

The last time you saw him, he didn’t take his eyes off you the entire time. 

 A massive projection table stood between you and him. Lyla was showing some random science behind whatever the latest threat to the universe at large was. You couldn’t care less about what she said while this brutish man bore into your soul— again. 

Your sense was going crazy this time. No one else ever seemed to notice, so why did he? You’d heard through the grapevine Miguel was one of the few other spider people that didn’t have a spider-sense. He wasn’t much like any of the other spiders, really. Yet, he seemed to know what was happening to you.

How could he not know, since he was clearly the cause.

Your growing adrenaline morphed into something you didn’t expect. Your cheeks immediately reddened when you felt a heat rising in your core— and a gush of arousal between your legs. You squeezed your legs together, leaning on the projection table for support. Then Miguel’s expression changed. His eyebrows furrowed. You saw his jaw and neck clench. If you didn’t know any better he looked disgusted.

It was fucking humiliating. 

This was your job. These were your colleagues. You were all discussing what you needed to do to keep the literal entire universe safe! And here you were, getting horny over nothing like some teenager. Pathetic.

And he surely knew exactly what was happening.

Miguel left the meeting in a huff and you ran your vibrator dead that night when you got home. 

From then on, you actively avoided him. Both out of shame and for your own sanity. Whatever this was, you didn’t wanna deal with it. Out of sight of a mind.

It was obvious no one else had this weird problem with him so there wasn’t anyone you could turn to. You’d rather die than explain this to Jess and half of your other members were fucking teenagers. You didn’t want to ask Lyla so she could have this in her memory banks for Miguel to just stumble across one day and promptly expel you from Spider society. You loved it here. You loved being part of something bigger than yourself. It's why you took up the mantel in the first place.

Yet, surrounded by the people who understand you most, you were alone in this. Trapped by some weird spider-power puberty. Could superpowers even go through puberty? It made as much sense as anything else in your life.

You were walking to the training room when that doomed buzz pinged in the back of your head. Turning the corner to the empty corridor was that dreaded, broad figure you’d been successfully avoiding for weeks now. He pauses when he sees you, just for a moment, before continuing on his path. Your spider sense hadn’t shown itself this entire time and now it was like a car alarm in your head. Still, you managed to walk on. You won’t let him have the satisfaction.   

He mumbled your name with a small nod when you passed each other, you did the same. Honestly, you were surprised he even knew your first name. You were nearly at the corner when you felt the tingling morph into what you were dreading. You bit your lip at the building erotic sensation between your legs. You’d had enough. 

After that last encounter, you started to wonder if this was something he was doing. How could you not? There was something in his animalistic eyes besides pure hunger. There was knowing. There was smugness. 

Yeah, he was definitely doing something. This was his fault.

“Stop it!” You turn to shout at him, now standing yards away from you. Your voice echoes down the empty hallway. He turns to look at you, a grimace on his face. “This isn’t funny. I don’t know what the hell your doing or why you’re doing it, but just stop it.” You say again, stepping toward him.

“What I’m doing?” he snarls, “What do you think I’m doing?”

“You’re fucking with me for fun,” You accuse him, “I thought it was me. I thought it was something I was doing because no one else had the same problem, but it only happens around you. So you’re the one doing something to me!”

“Only around me, hm?” he scoffs, stepping toward you. “I’m not doing anything,”

“Liar,” you bite, “This only happens around you. That only leaves one option. You’re doing it.”

A bloated silence follows. You see his shoulders drop, bringing his hand up to rub his eyes in annoyance. 

 “You really don’t know what’s happening either, do you?” That gives you pause. “The constant… buzzing.”

No fucking way.

He… felt it too. 

He’s standing directly in front of you now, his expression softened ever so slightly.

“I’m not like most of them, you know.” He starts, his voice a low rumble, “No spider-sense, talons for wall-crawling, venomous fangs… enhanced senses. You’re not exactly like the others either, are you?” his form dwarfs you, backing you into the closest wall.

“You don’t know anything about me,” You hiss. 

“I know everything about you,” He retorts, “It’s my job to know.”

“You… you really don’t know what’s happening to me. To…us.”

This all just got insanity more confusing. Well, it already was but this was just another layer onto the shitty cake. He could be lying, you think briefly. He could see how much he affects you and finds it funny. Though that nagging feeling in the back of your head says he’s telling the truth— and you believe it. 

“Not yet,” his arms cage you in. His eyes shift to that familiar deep red as he drags his gaze over you, “I was suspicious the first time, then it wouldn’t stop.”

“It’s awful.”

“The worst.”

Then, for the first time, you actually feel small under his gaze— other than in a literal sense. He’d been staring you down for over a month but now he was so damn close.

“What’s it feel like… for you?” He asks.

You think for a moment, trying to ignore the heat rising inside you, “It’s… it’s like climbing a roller coaster. Anticipation. Adrenaline. You know somethings coming.” 

Your heartbeat is pounding. 

“Mhmm,” he lowers his head, “What else?”

“It’s—“, you shy away from his gaze. 

“I know what else,” he leans down, lips brushing into your ear, “I’ve been able to smell you for days.” 

If this were any other man you’d have knocked him unconscious by now, but something about him speaking to you this way made your legs nearly give out.

You feel a sharp pressure against your thigh. You look down to see the single talon of his index finger pressed against you, hooked through the material of your suit. 

“Is this what you want?” He asks, his voice a low growl now, “This is what it’s screaming at you?”

You bite your lip, taking in a sharp inhale before you nod. 

He drags the claw up your thigh and across your stomach, slicing with precision cleanly through the material of your suit and underwear. Another rush of arousal runs through you. The fabric gives way easily and your core is left completely bare. He grabs your thighs.

“I wonder if you taste as good as you smell,” he hoists your legs over his shoulders as he kneels down to meet your waiting cunt. He holds you on top of him like you weigh nothing at all.

Superhuman strength and agility had several perks you always felt you never fully utilized.

His mouth engulfs you, licking a long stripe up your entrance before enveloping your clit. You gasp and grab his head with one hand and stick to the wall with the other. It wasn’t exactly stable, but that was the last thing on your mind. The king of spider-kind was eating you out in the middle of the citadel— and god was he good. 

You fight back your moans as best you can, anyone could walk by. Anyone could hear you. When he sucks down on you, you let a small scream slip.

“Cállate!” He hisses underneath you. Your eyes briefly meet his before he’s back on you. You barely remember your 3 years of high school Spanish, but the tone of his voice was clear. Be quiet.

You bit down on your hand. Your toes curled in your shoes. He was unraveling you bit by bit with his tongue. Consuming you like a starved man.

His mouth wasn’t the only thing wrecking you. That annoying buzz in your head had dulled into something different— something entirely new. The strange tingling simmered into a warm sensation, raising every hair on your body. Every time he’d touch you, it’d electrify you even more. Did he feel this way too, you wonder?

He wasn’t gentle. This wasn’t slow and sensual. He was fucking primal, wriggling and squirming underneath you as if to try to get more of you— to get you impossibly closer. He’d retracted his claws but his fingers squeezed you so tightly you knew there’d be bruises in the morning. The thought sent a new wave of wetness to your cunt. 

He moans into you, sending vibrations all through your body. He was whispering some sweet nothings you didn’t have the brain capacity to try and understand. Really he was telling you all you wanted to know— he was enjoying this too. Whether it was for some sick kicks or he just liked the control, you didn’t care. He was giving you some much-needed relief you didn’t know you had pent up— and it felt like this was the same for him.

Then he finally looks up at you, his eyes overtaken by that inhuman crimson red— animalistic and feral and wanting. You should be afraid of him. 

His tongue delves into your heat, his strong nose still nudging at your clit. You were getting close now— already? Yeah, you were way more pent-up than you thought. Both of your hands come down to his head, lacing your fingers through his dark hair.

“Miguel,” You barely gasp out, “Miguel, I’m gonna—”

You don’t finish before it overtakes you. Your shaking legs crush his head while pure euphoric energy surges through you. Your face contorts into a silent scream, completely forgetting how to breathe for just a moment. It was raw. It was hungry and rushed, but it was perfect.

 He works you through it until your bones become jelly. He lowers you down onto his lap. The buzzing in your head is singing— and then it’s finally silent, washing over you like a warm wave. It was complete bliss.

Even straddling his lap, he still towers over you—crowding you in against the wall with his arms again. You’re both panting from the rush. Did you seriously just do that? Did he seriously just do that? 

“It… it stopped,” You finally say. “The buzzing.”

He grunts in response, which you can only interpret as me too. Running his thumb across his chin to gather your remaining arousal. Those red eyes never leave your face while he sucks the digit clean. You instantly feel another rush of heat at the sight. This fucking man.

You both turn to the sound of oncoming footsteps just around the corner. So much for heightened senses this time. You turn back to each other, both with the same question painted across your face. What the fuck do we do?

He’s the first to act, quickly typing something into his multiverse watch. A portal opens in the wall directly behind you. Without warning you fall into it, getting one last look at Miguel's smug face before it closes. Then— you're in your empty apartment. 

Your ears are ringing. Your heart is pounding. Too many thoughts are rushing through your head to even bother sorting out right now. As you sit there, shamefully bare in your most intimate area in the middle of your living room, you settle on one aspect of this entire fucked up situation to focus on.

That asshole ruined your last fucking suit. 

____________________________________

I don't know how to make a taglist.

Hope you liked it!!!

[blade-that-was-broken]

Soldier On AU Notes

For the person who asked for them... This is kinda what I got. Don't get me wrong, there is a ton of JD and Bruce stuff, I just... haven't written any of that down...

I told ya'll that Branch jumped out of the bushes and pushed his way in! What do you want me to do!?

John does eventually get a service dog - Rhonda - that is mostly a mobility and reach aid and does pressure therapy for his PTSD. Idk all the details yet. 

Branch never met his dad. Their parents had been separated when he was born but the divorce was not finalized until he was almost a year old. That is when John was forced to leave. 

Branch has vague memories that are actually of John. Calloused hands (JD used to play guitar), maybe goggles and a faint lullaby no one can tell where it came from. In reality, JD sang it to him constantly to get him to sleep. He wrote it. 

Their mother cut off everything and was extremely bitter. The divorce was ugly and she didn’t like anyone talking about John or their father. So, after a few years, no one did. It just built up until he was a distant memory, and no one really thought of him. 

Their dad wasn't much better but he was left with very little in the divorce anyways.

John on the other hand, wasn’t left with a lot. He was lonely and clung to the memory of his brothers with everything he had. Being away from them broke his heart, as he was close with all of them and took care of them. He was their big brother and close with them.

Bruce left home the moment he could when he turned 18. He tried to keep in contact with them, although his mother didn’t really like it. Clay felt betrayed. Bruce currently lives in Hawaii and owns a small resort with his native Hawaiian wife, and they have a couple of kids. 

Clay did one semester at the local college to stay close to home but when their mother died and Floyd and Branch moved in with Grandma, he went to another school further away, one he wanted. Clay has been in and out of school for many years and is working on idk, some kind of doctorate or masters or whatever. 

Floyd went to the local college for a while but then his music career started to pick up and now he does a fair bit of traveling. He is musically inclined and seriously started making music after his mother died. He plays an old guitar that he found in their house and just can’t let it go. He doesn’t actually know it was JD’s. There is a symbol on it that is actually initials. 

Bruce does try to call Clay when John is with him but Clay absolutely does not want to talk to him. He barely answers the phone and hangs up before JD could get a word in. 

Eventually JD just gets a plane ticket and flies out to the college to try and find him. Like this entirely blindsides Clay; he has zero clue. At this point JD is still struggling to get around and doesn’t have a lot of things… including a phone. So he just kind of disappears and well… Bruce panics a little. They are gonna haveta work on their communication a bit.

Branch is about 16 and lives with his grandmother. She likes to garden and they have an old dog named Gary. He is extremely smart and has a wealth of knowledge but people avoidant. He wants to go somewhere but he doesn’t want to be alone and he doesn’t know where. He’d like to do more outdoorsy things but his grandmother cannot and he doesn’t actually know much. 

This is partially how he and JD bond. He spends a while with them, showing up one day and helps Branch with the outdoorsy stuff, actually teaching him things like how to start a fire, pitch a tent, a lot of stuff dudes like to do. He even helps start teaching him to drive. Just a little. 

Rosiepuff does suggest JD just stay with them since Branch seems to really like him and he has difficulty actually having fun/getting friends/talking with people but by this time, JD has a place and responsibilities and can’t stay. Besides, he doesn’t want to burden his grandmother. 

Branch ends up spending at least a summer in Hawaii with JD by suggestion of their grandmother. It goes well. 

JD jokes about where his leg ended up. He thinks he left it back in Sudan but he’s not sure. He’ll tell everyone different stories on where it is. It’s kind of dark humor sometimes that… don’t always bode well with people. 

Delta is probably one of JD's squad. I'm not sure who else. In their free time, they make a pretty awesome singing group though

There will probably be more but idk

[mooodyblue]

hii! i hav a request, Elvis shooting one of his guns while hanging w/ the Memphis mafia & y/n is present in the room, but she get very frightened bcuz she was unaware of him even owning guns. Which this leads to elvis asking everyone to leave & he just starts comforting her, just him giving big dom but gentle daddy energy!!😭

such a sweet request!! thank you ❣️i hate guns so much idk how id survive with elvis LOL

warnings: little space, mentions of guns

wc: 962

masterlist

you weren't exactly in your headspace today, but there was a part of you that wanted to slip. however, elvis had his entourage over today and while they knew about it, you didn't want to ruin elvis's day.

elvis was too busy talking business and such amongst his mafia to really pay attention to you, which was bumming you out a little but that was okay. just being in his presence was enough. you weren't paying much attention to the conversation anyway. you were just sitting on the floor, mindlessly toying with the recently vacuumed carpet.

now, you hadn't been with elvis for very long. you knew his quirks and he knew yours, he was always gentle and soft with you just as you were careful to not overstep when it came to him and his work. he loved you dearly though and he loved taking care of you, you were his baby. he even asked you that morning if you were okay to hang around today before asking them to come over.

however, you did not know about elvis and his guns. you'd heard rumors before getting with him, but you never saw him pull one out or saw them around the house so you assumed it was just a lie.

you sat up slightly the moment elvis brought them up, talking about keeping everyone armed for the upcoming tour.

"oh-i got a new one for y'all. look at this beauty!" elvis lifted up the leg of his pants slightly to pull the small weapon from his boot, holding it in his hand as he showed it off. "ain't she pretty? picked this one up yesterday."

your eyes widened at the gun in his hand, panic arising in your chest. since when did this man actually own guns?! "elvis-"

"hold on baby," he got up to show it to his friends, clicking it and showing the details on it. it wasn't until he loaded it and clicked it when you began to really panic, sinking in your chair and slightly shielding yourself while everyone else in the room didn't even budge, no concern on their faces.

he aimed the gun at a frame on the wall, clicking the weapon and immediately pulling the trigger. while everyone went back to admiring object in his hands, going back to their regular conversations-you were in your chair, hands over your ears, curled up in a ball as you shook slightly, rocking back and forth.

it took a few minutes for elvis to notice your panicked state, putting the safety back on the gun and setting it aside. "baby?" he rushed to your side, putting a hand on your shoulder. "oh no, did daddy scare ya? honey, i'm sorry."

everyone stared at you, confused and unsure of what to do. charlie began to approach the two of you, "do you-"

elvis raised his hand, "charlie, i need every single one of ya outta my house right this instant." he said sternly.

"are you sure? is there anything we can do?" he asked.

"y'all can turn around, walk out that door, and not speak of this ever again, that's what ya can do." he pointed at the door while his other was on you, caressing your shoulder. they stood there for another second, elvis pointed at the door again. "now." he said again, that stern, angry expression on his face was enough to get them ushering out of the room and, hopefully, out of the house.

soft, gentle sobs left from your mouth as you continued to rock yourself back and forth. the combination of fear of getting yelled at for ruining his day combined with the sudden scare from the gun running through your body was overwhelming.

"baby, look at me, look at daddy." he cooed,

you stopped your rocking, looking at him from behind your knees. "mad?"

"not at all. that's all on me, baby. i should have given ya a warning." he sat in front of you on the floor, holding his arms out. "c'mere, lemme hold ya for a bit. daddy's got you."

you crawled into his lap as he wrapped his arms securely around you. "was loud, daddy."

he sighed, "i know darlin'," he pulled away, allowing you to straddle his lap as you looked at him with sad eyes. "now, don't look so sad. c'mon, where's that smile?" he pinched your cheek and gave your nose a boop before going to hold both of your hands.

the corners of your lips perked up, wiggling your hands in his playfully.

"that's my baby! oh my pretty lil' baby, what are we gonna do with ya?" he chuckled. "we okay now?"

you nodded, still slightly shaken up but much better now that you were alone with elvis. "daddy?" "hm?" you squeezed his hands. "do you have a lot of those?" you asked, pointing at the weapon still on the table.

he looked over at it then back at you. "don't worry about it, baby. i'll keep 'em away from you." he reassured. "i ain't gonna let anything or anyone hurt ya, that's why i got 'em all over the house. it's nothin' but for your own protection." he tapped your nose again, "don't want my baby gettin' hurt do we?"

you shook your head and threw yourself onto elvis, wrapping your arms around him and hugging him tightly, causing elvis to almost stumble back as he let out a small laugh. "now you're just bein' silly! what's goin' on huh?"

you giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck. "i just love my daddy a lot! i love that he cares about me."

he gave you a warm smile, his heart melting. "that i do, honey. love ya much much more."

[starlight-writer]

Okay thanks and sincerely, fuck you (affectionate). I hardly ever get genuinely pained reading something online but congradulations ig. THE ANGST. JUST 🤌🤌🤌

but wait hear me out, what if, ikik crazy, but like it turns out reader was playing the Marc Card™ and "protecting" our beloved' from either the reader themselves, or also maybe more the situation they're in (equivalent to idk, perhaps the extreme and less than uh, pleasant circumstances dear marc, steven and jake have tied to their lives. superhero shit, family trauma, anything) OR they're just as fucked up in the head and emotionally constipated and such, and is under the impression they're, again, saving the guys from "having to deal with" the reader's shit instead of using communication like a sane fucking person in a relationship. But hey, couples goals amarite 🥰

Or both. Both can be good

Happy ending or not (bittersweet too, that counts), I am in no way suggesting this is healthy and reader shouldn't be sorry and recieve forgiveness, or not. especially knowing and reading abt how much it affected the whole system. call this self indulgent af man; and please don't write, respond or keep reading if this makes you uncomfortable in any way

In hindsight, I really should have placed that warning before the ask started truly getting into it. additionally, since I'm especially off with memory today, this is all in reference to your divorce drabble/headcanons btw

Thanks 2(x) for reading this far into my ramblings, and for sharing your bomb ass writing. again, it's hard for me to feel connected with the whole y/n shebang fandoms have going on, and, despite all odds, you pulled it off

Don't know how to end these things so yayy parting thumbs up👍

Divorce Pt. 2

A/n: CRYING, ROLLING ON THE FLOOR, SCREAMING, POUNDING MY FISTS Thank you so much for this!! I am literally so excited about this!! (Also sorry for taking so long to write this, I'm a little behind on requests lol)

((I will make a part three for if reader left to protect themselves from the Moon Knight side of things so this part is if reader left due to person issues so double the content!))

Warnings: yelling, anger, talk of depression, talk of panic attacks, talks of trauma, this ain't gonna be a fun ride

Gn! Reader Masterlist

Steven

Steven is the most calm out of Jake and Marc, but that's more like being the smartest guy on the football team

It's a really low bar to meet

Steven tries to be understanding in every situation he's in, truly

His mindset is 'you never know what someone's going through' and he takes it to heart

But this?

He finds it very hard to be understanding

He doesn't even want you here, but he let you through the front door, so it must mean something right?

After explaining in full enough detail as to why you did what you did, Steven is silent

Eerily silent

It feels like the silence in a horror movie before a monster jumps out

This is the part where I could say 'and one did, Jake starts yelling at you' but that's not what happens

Steven starts yelling at you

He starts yelling at you in a way you've only ever seen Marc or Jake do

And it was never directed at you before

It scares you

Steven is so irate, he doesn't notice you shrinking in on yourself

But if he did, I don't think he'd care

Not anymore

"You led us on, you led me on, for years! You made me think I deserved kindness, happiness, love, just to drop me and make me feel like I was worth nothing! I'm sorry you went through so much and I'm sorry you're still dealing with it, but Gods! That doesn't give you the right to completely toy with us and leave when you feel trapped! You're supposed to talk to us about it! Or at least text me if you didn't want to say anything!"

"We could've worked it out. We could've... We were married. That means you at least cared about us a little, right?"

Steven's anger eventually dies and fades into depression and heartbreak

At this moment he wishes you never showed up, never tried to fix anything

He was content with walking through life, blaming himself and thinking you were an angel that got stuck with an annoying gremlin

Cause how could you do any wrong?

Steven asks you to leave, barely above a whisper

If you don't move, he will

He'll lock himself in his room until you do

You may have thought you were helping, that you were easing his confusion and pain

You were wrong

All you did was set in motion another depressive episode and make Steven feel like the worst husband

He thinks, just for a second, that he must've been so terrible at comforting you and letting you know that he was there for you

And a second is all it takes for Steven to believe it

Marc

He starts laughing

Like, maniacal laughing

"You think you can just walk in here and give me some sorry ass excuse?"

"You married us, knowing you couldn't handle it, you married us! You stood at the alter, said vows you took the time to write, said yes after having the chance of leaving, and waited months after to say you didn't want this anymore?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?!"

Unlike Steven, Marc's rage doesn't settle into depression

It sits and festers until the moment you leave

He doesn't turn violent like Jake, but he looks seconds away from destroying the apartment

Even if you manage to explain further through Marc's yelling, it doesn't register that you were in pain or suffering

It doesn't even register that your slinking away in fear at the growing redness of Marc's face

"Why'd you even come here?! To make shit worse?!"

"Of course not! I thought-"

"You've already practically killed Steven! Did you come back to finish us off?"

"No! I was trying to-"

"I can't believe I trusted you! I-"

Marc cuts himself off, digging his palms into his eyes and sniffling

He's crying

Whether in anger, frustration, sadness, or all three, it doesn't matter

He's breaking down right in front of you and you know he must truly be broken to show such vulnerability in front of someone he hates

He yells at you to leave, to leave and never come back

Don't look at him, don't breathe next to him, don't even think about him

And don't ever, ever, try to call Steven

Marc will not hesitate to visit you in his suit

That's a lie, he'd never do that

Even now, after all the pain you caused him, he could never hurt you

Once you finally leave with Marc in tears, he finally falls to the floor and cries

He cries for hours and hours, unable to move or stop

He yells into his hands in agony and frustration

Why did nothing go right for him?

Was he cursed?

Doomed to never have a happy ending?

Your visit didn't help anyone or anything

You should've stayed home

Jake

Absolutely furious

Nothing can calm him down, Steven and Marc have no chance of forcing him into the head space if they tried (though it's not like they want to)

He doesn't let you in, but he walks around the apartment, yelling at you

No, not yelling

Screaming

He can't step back and think about your explanation, what is means and how it ties into your relationship

Lord help his neighbors because he will definitely throw something

Not at you, never at you

He may think he's a monster, willing to cross almost any line to fulfill his mission, but hurting you is one of the few strict lines he will never cross

He will throw things around you, slamming a lamp into the wall, throwing glass onto the floor

And while he is enraged, he's not blind

He sees his effect on you, how scared you look at him

And he thinks 'finally. finally I see how you really feel about me'

Tears remain in his eyes, not willing to fall and give you the satisfaction

He continues yelling and throwing things, hoping to scare you away

And it works

And when he's finally alone, he dissolves into sobs

He doesn't care who might walk past the open door and see him

He just cries and cries

He can't maintain the energy of being mad as much as he wants to

He may be able to do that in front of Steven and Marc, but the second he saw your face

All he wanted to do was bury his face in your neck and hold you

Apologize for his wrong doings and pray you would at least talk to him

But seeing how Steven and Marc dealt with your absence

And seeing how much you managed to wiggle into his heart before destroying it

He couldn't allow his feelings to control his mind

His top priority has always been, and will continue to be Steven and Marc

And he's willing to sacrifice everything to ensure they're safe

They're happy

And you took away their happiness

You will never be allowed in their apartment again, let alone their hearts

Jake will make sure of it

You will regret visiting

One day, everything is going to come full circle

And Jake isn't afraid of the man he might become to get the closure his brothers deserve

(beta reader note : ouchie two electric boogaloo.)

[thesecretattic]

I had made this… a WRITTEN SCREENBOARD and collage too, it doesn’t have Spoilers I have concealed everything as much as I could but I have shared what people could’ve expected to read there, those ILLITERATE IMBECILES are ASSUMING/SAYING the book only has “coincidences” or signs I REALLY wanted them to know this before committing Sui-cde I didn’t write 81000 words for nothing. I have to die before I go crazy I’m going mad due to him I have shared a link below Facebook: Zara Sauleh 7th Post from top which has about his and his friend’s OCD he asked for my personal details only to reject and insult me or what? Not talking about Aditya uncle no one cares about him it was HARSH who was pretending to be him go read that post! Even after 8 years he was so insensitive that he left me to die after ruining my life ever since I was 18-20 all my youth! I’m dy-ing a virgin I’ll keep repeating until my last breath I would’ve changed my gender if I would’ve been alive BECAUSE OF HOW HORRIBLE HE WAS as if I wasn’t a girl and rest everyone was that. He was impotent not me. And go through our signs (marriage one’s too) in all of my previous posts with screenshots and markings 23rd May, 2023 what was supposed to be my marriage number was the blackest day of my life so was 5th Mar he has ruined every significant date, started his drama on my parent’s wedding anniversary my mother and his mother share their birthdates too. There’s a lot more, my brother and his brother our fathers share so many similarities and I didn’t dig out any info I’ve written that in my book SS go find it. Never was a fan haven’t switched on the tv since 2015 BECAUSE OF HIM the tv has also spoilt now due to non-usage, go ask the service provider we threw the set top box (Airtel) ask them when the connection was stopped. Remove my details from Netflix n Prime office I don’t watch anything there either and GO SEE IF I HAVE EVER CREATED an account on VOOT I have NO ACC there. Like I said I haven’t seen him since Feb 2016 that too on social media I NEVER went on any of their profiles and FB office will reveal that my history is there. His fanclub came and liked but To prevent that also I had kept my notifications OFF I accidentally clicked on it after that Insta changed the notification panel and shifted to the top cuz I got a panic attack. Could be a wonderful stroke of luck or idk another girl too had complained about something and they’d made amends. He thinks ppl are taking his side? Unfortunately I’m dy-ing after this I was up all night crying waiting for daytime to put this and die it was a big decision (sharing this here) so I needed more time to think whether I should… and I decided to blur out certain things. I wanted to SHUT their ug-ly mouths it’s a slap there. Now finally bye forever “oversmart” ppl- Zara Sauleh

[nanjokei]

well, you know. something funny about how i vehemently denied being mentally ill well into high school despite various unpleasant incidents (no details heehee) and constant panic attacks and mental breakdowns. of course into university it did not get better. but i started being a little more honest with myself. started calling myself ambigiously mentally ill, but looking back now, i was still trying to downplay it. i felt that i did not "deserve" to label myself as anything as it would be an "excuse". not only that, but also enroaching on people who are "actually" mentally ill. people who were visibly "worse off", or perhaps simply made their misfortune clear before i did (it sounds silly, but i really did think like this). well... obviously i am very neurodivergent. even mental illness and anxiety and depression aside. very nice cocktail of me juice.

what does that even mean? wasn't i struggling too? i think the mental health discourse of the late 10's was so damaging. there was so much emphasis on "worth" and "proof"... i'm not talking about listing your mental illnesses, that is so early 10's tumblr and i think something usually younger people do (to a lot of detriment ofc). i'm talking about the silent pressure of "if you don't see a professional you decided you got it via webmd" or something. i didn't wanna seem like that... so i never questioned myself. ever. i just decided to acknowledge "something is wrong" and nothing else. of course, in an effort to be inclusive perhaps to maybe their friends, people would hastily tack on statements like "but it's okay if you do a lot of research".

what IS "a lot of research"? by what metric is that decided? how much research is that? how many hours, books, webpages, blog posts... i do think in this pedantic and literal kind of way. i take the words much too seriously. but when is it okay? such questions haunted me. honestly, i am unable to let the thought go. even if i recently in the past and even now go, "i'm an adult, should i not be able to tell and surmise what may be wrong? do i not have observations? can i not relate my experiences to others strongly? is it wrong of me to do so? do i not live in my own body?" this social pressure is not something i can make sense of, but i still feared it, heeded it, let it be something that commanded my life and how i saw myself.

i can never be diagnosed in this decade. even aside from the society i live in. how intensely i have to mask in my day to day life because of how intricately collectivist this society is. gender shit. my own personal circumstances which i will probably never speak of online. but it's okay. i don't really want or need a diagnosis. i know at least and am honest with myself, but i hope one day i can transition from "i am ambigiously neurodivergent" and the like to saying what i really feel. you know? because i am an adult who is at least somewhat self aware. like, in masking so intensely my entire life, in KNOWING i was so bad at knowing what to do in such inflexible social environments and having to learn from scratch, i honestly should have realized... no idea how i did not...

honestly it runs so deep sometimes i tell myself i don't have things i OBJECTIVELY have! like i have trichotillomania yes!! i pull my hair out constantly. but sometimes im like ok but what if i'm just pulling my hair out just cuz lol... DO YOU SEE!!! it is so deep seated. when i first started doing it my mom took me to a hair guy bc she thought my hair was falling out. he immediately recognized i was pulling it out, but didn't say it was a disorder or anything. maybe he didn't have the authority to, idk, i have no idea what his profession even was. it was not a hospital. we went home and i got yelled at. i wish he said something. but alas. i lived not knowing for years. so sometimes i still don't believe THAT. how am i gonna convince myself it's ok for me to say the quiet part about my neurodivergence out loud? that i've "earned" the right to do so? i've met so many people both irl and online that have validated my trich and i can't even fully believe it. so imagine... you know??

i'm not chasing a label, but i want to be able to say it one day and not care about approval (in the sense of others believing me) or "being incorrect". BECAUSE WHO CARES WHAT OTHERS THINK?! i believe others without thinking about it or doubting them right? and no one is living my life but me!! i want to be honest to myself completely one day!!! i want to wholeheartedly say i am ___ without thinking about it too hard. you know?! ;_;

i have no idea if any of this makes sense at all. i know my way of describing my feelings is confusing and very roundabout. it may not even be obvious what i am agonizing about, maybe it is, but i want to overcome my inhibitions wholeheartedly. i am ready to evolve past the self denial

[chaninfused]

I . literally don’t know where to start oh my god.

before I start rambling under the cut: IF YOURE READING THIS GO AND READ EVENING STAR I BESEECH THEE 🗣

ok OK you know how excited I’ve been for a new installment of es and let me tell you- IT DID NOT DISAPPOINT !! like when I woke up yesterday and saw the post about posting part two I SHRIEKED (silently) I will forever lose my mind over this series there’s nothing you can do about it 😌

anyway time for real feedback let me just say. Kat. I am OBSESSED with your writing like you don’t understand. I am obsessed. And this fic reminded me of that cus omg !! YOUR STYLE NEVER MISSES 🗣 from the very start like the way you described mc waking up. the disorientation the confusion the panic it’s just so scrumptious 😙👌🏻 I was truly so engrossed in reading and that was evident in my STRESS omg I wanted to physically reach in and grab those two and just SPRINT out of there 💆🏻‍♀️ it was truly getting serious.

The suspense !! mc running through the forest and then reuniting w chan !! it was all just written so beautifully <3 and oh my goodness that part where chan finds mc in her room ✋🏻 I was stressed as HELL but im glad it all went well in the end sdhjksld I said this in my feedback for pt 1 and I must say this again—reading this felt like watching a movie. Perhaps the bg music played into it but I know that it was all thanks to the way you went about writing those scenes. You paid so much attention to detail and it shows cus every sentence was crafted so beautifully. There’s a certain flow ?? dynamic ?? to your words that just pulls the reader’s mind through the scene it’s like seeing something through a camera. I’m trying to say that your camerawork is excellent ig 👁 LMFAO SDHJFKSLDFS

There was this line, “stories of heroes could be immortalised by ink and tongue, but things like safety were only temporary” that I just really really liked. Nothing particular I just think it’s nice so i’m drawing attention to it 😌

Speaking of lines I also liked this part “No; Chan wouldn’t just be pointing fingers - he’d be pointing a sword at whoever’s name you let slip” cus it’s 1) funny 2) clever 3) sums up chan’s character pretty nicely GHFSDJKLSD

I must say minho’s first line is the most iconic tho I IMMEDIATELY knew he was gonna be my favorite character and I know I’ll suffer because of it 😔✋🏻 but that’s okay everything for mister snarky mage

Pardon the incoming minho rant btw I JUST REALLY LIKE HIS CHARACTER DGHFJKSD 😭 him helping mc from a distance and then his introduction—just immediately threatening the One Guy With A Sword. Absolutely a moment for the history books I must say. Also his backstory ?? whatever history he has with mc ?? I am utterly and absolutely shaking with curiosity I need to know 1) what happened 2) WHO LEFT HIM SO HURT 🔪

I may have been all heart eyes over knight chan but it seems that my agenda has changed 😔 as it often does when minho appears.

ALSO WTSFDFGSDHGSDJ I NEARLY FORGOR

HYUNJIN ????????????????????????????????????????????????/ HYUNJIN I KNEW IT TJHKDFSHDJFKSLD;KDSJGHSJDK he was suspicious from the very start smh I can’t defend you for this one bestie 😔 I say this fully knowing I’ll be over here kicking my legs if he shows up again it’s just the hyunjin stan in me I cannot stop her she’s embarrassing ✋🏻

Oh also I said something that I want to elaborate on/clarify further—that the way you described minho shows the familiarity shared between him and mc ☝🏻 this could just be the overthinker in me but like you focused on how his features had changed and matured rather than introducing them (if that makes sense 💀) so like, as readers, we got a general description of him, but then this focus nicely depicted the relationship he and mc have. They haven’t seen each other in years but still he’s familiar yk familiar enough that mc would notice the growth in him after so long- IDK IF ANY OF THIS MAKES SENSE BUT I JUST WANTED TO EXPLAIN CUS !!!! YOUR WRITING WAS WONDERFUL OKAY 😤

Anyway idk what else to say cus my brain is just a big ol’ keyboard smash atm 😔 im so excited for what comes next (MORE MAGE MINHO !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) and now I honestly feel inspired to go revisit my wips and finish writing so sdfhgjsdf thank you :P

This was overall an amazing wonderful exciting installment of the series thank you for blessing us, kat 🤲🏻🤍

☾⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: evening star ; two *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

⋆*･ﾟ story preview. ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:

pairing(s): knight!chan x princess!reader, mage!minho x princess!reader featuring: prince!hyunjin and others. story summary: you were soon to be married to a well liked and nobel prince from one of the wealthiest kingdoms. however, when the engagement ball takes a turn for the worst, you’re to try and reclaim your kingdom with the help of your knight and best friend chan, as well as the mage who you have a secret history with.

⋆*･ﾟ part two ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:

wordcount: 13.9k chapter warnings: blades, mild violence, some injuries note that these warnings are specific to this chapter. if you read something you think should be tagged, please send me a message/ask. a/n: hihi! sorry for the long wait but she's here!! i did have to repost this for reasons which i won't get into, but anyhow. happy reading! taglist: @kpop--etc / @freckled-felixlee / @foivetimesacharm / @tremendousminyoongi / @wearethethunderousones / @chrisishungry100397 / @freckledquokka / @starrylino / @soulssung / @scarsnfevers / @sahazzy / @djeniryuu // unable to tag some :(( --- m.list | one | two | tbc...

It's cold.

That's all you can seem to think about as you slowly come to, the heaviness in your head tempting you to keep your eyes shut. Your ears are ringing dully, and your limbs feel heavy, the way they had years ago when you had first tried to swing Chan’s sword.

The memory blurs in your brain as you try to push yourself up. Your shoulder is killing you - you must have fallen asleep with your arm at a strange angle, but for how long? How long had you been on the staircase for your shoulder to hurt like this? There was nothing to indicate the passage of time that had passed, though the moon was viewable through a small cutout in the staircase. It shown down through the gap, cold moonlight casting an eerie blue glow over you

Deep breath in, deep breath out. Repeat.

As the ringing in your ears start to die down, an unsettling feeling overcomes you. It was quiet. Too quiet. There were no footsteps, no distant chatter or sounds of the quartet playing. There didn’t even seem to be any nightlife - the sounds of crickets and owls that you were positive almost always accompanied the night were no where to be heard. Had it always been this quiet?

As if the world was desperate to prove you wrong, the sound of clattering footsteps makes its way to your ears from below. There was the familiar footfall of the palace servants - more rushed and skitterish than normal, but the sound of their shoes on stone was one you had grown up with.

And then there’s the heavy sound of boots, creating a dull thud with every step.

“To the ballroom! Now!”

It was an unfamiliar, gravelly voice - none of the guards you knew sounded like that. None of them sounded that demanding. As the steps come nearer, you can make out panicked whispers and muffled crying.

Pushing yourself up, forcing your weak legs to hold you up, you scramble up the staircase, away from the noise. With each forced movement, whatever power had fatigued you seems to wash away.

Some part of you - the part that had grown up on adventure stories and fairy tails of princes saving princesses - wanted to run down and help whoever was crying. But you knew that wasn’t the smartest of ideas - and the castle staff, knowing their kind hearts, would tearfully scold you for putting yourself in danger for them.

The sound of your shoes on the stone stairs reverberates in your ear. Kicking them off, you continue barefooted up the staircase.

It was a good idea - not only were your steps quieter, but the cold floor beneath you was grounding. It shocked the drowsiness out of your system, heightened your senses.

And thank god for that, fpr had you continued on with your shoes, you may not have noticed the voices from the second floor until it was too late.

“Find her! She can’t have disappeared into thin air!”

Were they talking about you? So whatever had happened had been to target you?

The thought makes your blood run cold, a sudden wave of dizziness hitting you. To your knowledge, you had never been made the sole target for anything, and all the drills and procedures that you had been taught- they all revolved around someone escorting you away, someone protecting you.

But right now? You were alone, unsure who the enemy was and had no way to contact the only person you trusted. You didn’t even know where he was.

Your mind jumps to your mother - where was she? Was she alright? The last time you had seen her, she’d been in the ballroom. There had been plenty of guards in the ballroom. Hopefully, she was alright.

“Have you checked her room?” A new voice - familiar, but not enough that you can put a face to it in your panic.

“Yes, sir. She isn’t there.”

You wait, holding your breath and pushing yourself flat against the curved wall of the staircase as you wait for the men to move away - anywhere but down the staircase. It seemed an eternity before the one in charge replies.

“Fine. Go find some men and comb through the forest. If she somehow escaped, she can’t have gone far. Not in heels and a ball gown.”

“Yes, sir!”

Hearing their footsteps fade, you take the last few steps up to the top. To leave the temporary sanctuary offered by the darkness of the staircase seems like leaving the only safe haven you know, but you also know that almost nothing was ever permanent - stories of heroes could be immortalised by ink and tongue, but things like safety were only temporary.

Your bare feet pad across the cold floor, the lack of echo each time your feet hit the ground alien to you.

It was tiring and absolutely terrifying to look over your shoulder every few steps - what if, in that split second, someone appears in front of you? Or what if you look back, and someone is there? You weren't sure who the men were, who they worked for (if anyone at all), nor were you sure what they wanted.

Despite there having been men above and below the staircase, you manage to make your way down the hall without being spotted. When the door to your bedroom finally comes into view, the adrenaline increases in your veins - this was it, this was the last sprint. As soon as you're in, you can lock the door and then figure out your next move.

Taking a deep breath, you set off on a run to the door, feet falling hard against the ground.

Just as you reach the door, the sound of footsteps from down the hall reach you. You start fumbling the door handle, hands suddenly uncooperative and breath erratic and heart beating in your ears and the footsteps are speeding up, getting closer, closer, closer-

The door opens, and you barely manage to push it shut behind you as you stumble in. Spinning around, you throw yourself back against it, fingers struggling to lock the door based off of muscle memory.

You can hear the lock slide home, the click calming your nerves ever so slightly.

Finally, you were safe once again, your room providing temporary solace. And familiar, it could have been, had your room not look like it'd been torn apart.

The blankets on your bed had been pulled off, and the wardrobe doors thrown open. Closet doors had also been opened, and you could see the gaps in your clothes where someone had pushed them apart. And at the center of your room - the flowers you had been gifted earlier in the day, spilling over the edge of the table, the vase knocked over.

Whoever had come looking for you had really looked through everything, you thought, face warming despite all. But it should be the last thing on your mind, you chide yourself. There were more important matters at stake - like your life, and whatever on earth was going on.

Running to your open wardrobe, you rummage through the mess that had been left behind for something to change into, grabbing at the darkest thing you could find - a dark, velvet dress. You quickly undress, letting the stained tulle gown fall and bunch around your feet. Stepping out and kicking it aside ungracefully, you struggle to pull the velvet dress on while simultaneously digging around for something that wasn’t heels - it takes longer than you had thought to locate some riding boots. You crouch down, pulling at the laces.

How long would it be before someone was going to return to check your room? If you were still here, what would happen? Could you fight them off by yourself? ...No, probably not. You might be able to fling a few measly knives, but you had never been in combat of nay kind. If anyone returned, if anyone found you, you’d be helpless.

And then what? Would they take you to the ballroom, where it seemed they were gathering everyone, or would they lock you in the dungeon? Or would they ki-

Like a deer who had heard a twig snap, your body freezes when you hear your door rattle. Every joint in your body feels like it’s been locked in place, and your breath unable to leave your lungs. Had you overthought this all and imagined up the door rattling? Or was someone really outside, trying to get in?

It rattles again, a catalyst for movement as you crawl to your bed - an unsightly scene for a royal, but you couldn’t care less - and reach under the bedskirts. Your hand grasps at nothing until finally your fingers wrap around the string of the drawstring bag you had handed Chan earlier that morning. Pulling it out, you could hear the metal daggers sliding against one another, the harshness of the sound amplified against the stone even through the fabric of the bag.

Click.

Your breath is caught in your throat, trying so hard to force its way out that you feel like you’re about to puke. The drawstring bag seems to be stitched shut, your fingers prying helplessly at the string and the material.

Over your raging heart, you can hear the door shut softly.

Someone was in your room.

Hands shaking and sweating, you finally manage to tug the bag open, and you pull it wide, not caring for what noise it made - if someone was in your room, they were bound to find you anyways - and you reach inside, hands sliding against cold metal that sends shocks up your your arm.

Like some twisted nightmare, all you can see is a pair of black boots before you feel yourself being pushed over onto your back, the stranger putting his weight onto you and pinning your hands above your head with one hand, the other covering your mouth.

Eyes squeezed shut, you thrash around, kicking and twisting, yells muffled despite all your effort. The grip around your wrist was secure, preventing you from even twisting your hand around and nicking the person’s hand with the small dagger you had tried to hard to retrieve.

“Shut- Shut up, y/n, it’s me-”

Your body stills at the all too familiar voice. Eyes snapping open, You find Chan leaning over you, face flushed and eyes wide. He was panting, as if overpowering you had taken all the strength from him.

He releases your wrists, bringing a finger to his lips. Be quiet.

When you nod in response, he lifts his other hand from your mouth.

Without another thought in mind, you reach up and pull him down on top of you, hugging him tight despite your shaking limbs and burying your face into his shoulder. He smelled of the forest at night, the smell of earth and wood mixing with sweat and Chan.

“Chan, I thought you were someone else-”

Your breath rushes out, words barely squeezing past the sob in your throat.

Seeing Chan’s face made you want to cry; you wanted to be held, to be cradled in his arms and have him whisper words of comfort in your ear, for him to stroke your hair and tell you hey, everything’s alright, this is all just a bad nightmare and you’ll wake up soon.

He does stroke your hair - you feel his hand come under you, holding your head to the crook of his neck. He pats your head, hand running over your hair rhythmically until the adrenaline in your veins dissipates.

The smell of forest and night and Chan, the feeling of fabric between your nails and your palm, the sensation of being held by someone safe - it grounded you, each rattling breath shaking out the fear from your mind.

Slowly, your hands open and release his shirt. Even with your arms loose around his torso, Chan continues to hold you, and then you feel it, adrenaline leaving the room for your senses to recover.

His arms around you are strong - you’ve always known that he was strong - but they’re tense, as if he was restraining himself from holding you any tighter than he already was. You can hear his breaths, forcibly steady and controlled, and his hands are shaking against your hair as he calms you down, leaving an onlooker to wonder who it really was that needed the comfort.

He gulps, and you think he’s about to say something, but he pulls back. Still on top of you, he looks down, his bangs hanging and brushing against your forehead. He seems to be scanning your eyes, your face, for something that you couldn’t quite figure out. Injuries, perhaps? Or was he trying to see if you were still scared?

With each passing second, you can see his eyes soften. Simply looking at you, it seems, was enough to ground Chan.

“Did- Did you lock the door?” you break the silence after a while, and Chan blinks rapidly.

As if suddenly remembering that he was straddling your hips and leaning over you, he throws himself to the side, rolling into a kneeling position. He nods minutely, glancing across the room to the door. Though it stands silently, though you can't help noticing the feeling of impending doom it seems to radiate.

You push yourself up from the floor, retrieving the dagger you had discarded upon recognising Chan. The metal is unnervingly cold against the palm of your hand, and you quickly drop it back into the bag.

"What happened?"

Chan is across the room, peering out one of the two windows in your room. His eyes flick to you, and quickly back out the window when he catches you staring at him.

You shake your head, still trying to piece it all together yourself. "I don't- I don't know. I was going back to my room-"

"Why?"

"To change my dress - There was an accident-"

"Accident?"

"Yes, I knocked into someone- No, they knocked into me- Oh, I can't remember, but my dress got stained, so I was told to go back to my room and wait for a new dress. I was- I was on my way to my room, and then everything started getting all... weird, and it was like the castle was moving - I couldn’t - I couldn’t walk fast enough, and I was scared, and the torches kept moving and-" It was all mixed up in your brain. You could picture it all happening, could see yourself talking to the maid, could see the hallway, the fire and dancing shadows on the wall-

"Breathe, your highness. You're safe right now. I'm here." Chan had, at some point, made his way over to you. He had his hands on your shoulder, his thumbs rubbing circles into your skin. "Now, have you been in your room all this time?"

“I-” shuddering breath in, shuddering breath out. “No. I only made it to the stairs before I... before I fell asleep.”

Once you had calmed down, Chan starts the questioning. What do you remember seeing? How long were you asleep? What did you hear? You had expected this to happen, and tried to recall all the details.

The story, though short, slowly unravels, and Chan shares his side too. He had been making his rounds, ensuring everyone was stationed where they were supposed to be when he noticed the change in the atmosphere - everything had gone quiet. He’d found one of his men on the ground - unwounded, but asleep, and Chan couldn’t wake him up. He would have kept trying, but then he saw the group of men approaching the castle.

“There were too many for me to try and beat. And I didn’t know how many more there were, and it was just- there were too many risks.” Chan had regret painted all over his face. You knew how much it must have hurt him to walk past his men, all on the ground, and be able to do nothing to help them. “But they said it had worked. And I don’t know what it is, but from the looks of it...”

“Magic.”

The word hangs in the air, a dark cloud that could bring anything from a light shower to a thunderous storm. No one really knew what the nature of magic was - after so many years of separation between the magical and non-magical, there was little interest in educating the non-magic folk of what magic really was. Magic was wild, something you nor Chan could fully comprehend.

“What I don’t understand,” Chan starts, pacing around the room, “Is why you were the only one who woke up. I mean - I assume I was outside of the spell’s perimeter, but you, your highness... Everyone was asleep, when I made my way here. No matter how hard I tried to wake them, no one would open their eyes. They were all breathing, though.” A reassurance, for himself or for you, no one knows.

You had an idea about why you were awake. A voice, a memory, a boy from long ago. You were sure he was connected to this somehow, that he had somehow tried to protect you - he had told you to run, had he not? That had to have been his voice.

But you knew that mentioning him to Chan right now wouldn’t be the best of ideas. Chan - always protecting you, always ready to cut down anything that could be a risk to you - was already sure magic was the root of whatever trouble you were now in, and to tell him that the reason you woke up was most likely because of someone’s magic?

No; Chan wouldn’t just be pointing fingers - he’d be pointing a sword at whoever’s name you let slip.

So instead, you shake your head. “But what now? We can’t stay here and wait the spell out,” you reason. “Besides, I heard the men moving everyone to the ballroom. We- We can’t even stay here.”

The realisation settles in your mind, a cold blanket that seemed to freeze you in place.

You had… never spent a night outside of the castle before. Chan had, of course, but he had been out with people who were able to protect themselves, able to take care of themselves.

But what were you, if not a princess who had grown up sheltered by the castle? And sure, you theoretically knew your way around a blade, but you could barely do more than hit within two meters of your target.

"...And I know we don't have time, but we'll figure this out, okay?"

You would be nothing more than a burden on Chan; extra baggage that he had to carry and take care of, whether he wanted to or not.

"I won't let anything bad happen to you or our kingdom. I promise."

Sometimes, you simply wished for a life free of the responsibilities you and Chan had.

"Your highness?"

It was hard to shake the thoughts from your head, though you tried - too much was at stake right now for you to get lost in your own shortcomings.

"Y/n," comes Chan's voice, closer and softer than it had been a moment ago, drawing you away from all the possibilities of the past, present and future. "I know this is overwhelming, but I need you here with me, okay?"

He raises a hand, palm cupping your cheek and thumb swiping under your eye - had you been crying? You hadn't even realised.

"I'm here," you tell him, and despite your voice betraying you, you really were present. Wiping away at your tears, you take a deep breath. "I'm here," you say again, more confidently this time.

"Good. Now,” Chan takes a breath that seems to rattle his body as much as you felt rattled. “Go grab that dagger from above your bed."

It takes a moment for your feet to move; once they do, it was like everything was being sped up.

You had to get up on the bed to reach the dagger. You go to step on your pillows, almost falling as they move under your weight, and kick them out of the way. They fall onto the floor with light thumps, and you reach up for the dagger.

“What about the prince?” You ask as you unhitch the blade from where it was mounted. The light catches on the star etched at the hilt, flashing as you move off the bed and back to Chan. “Him and his men aren’t familiar enough with the castle to-”

“With all due respect, my only responsibility right now is you,” Chan replies. He isn’t cold or dismissive, but his tone tells you he wasn’t going to compromise your safety for anyone else. “There are too many unknowns right now for us to try and find him.”

He’s standing by your window, peering out of it from the side. You sneak a glance out, curious as to what he was watching.

Nothing. He was watching nothing.

All was still outside your window, which overlooked the back of the castle. The forest was dimly lit by the moon, though you could see the shadow of clouds inching closer and closer. The only thing that seemed to move - even the trees seemed like they were still, unmoving against the wind that moved the clouds.

“Are we… Are we going?”

He nods silently, solemnly, before turning on his heels with what seems to you like newfound determination. Had he been thinking all this time? Trying to come up with a plan?

Well, you’d probably know had you not been so caught up in your thoughts before.

“Now listen, your highness.” Chan is busy rummaging through your bag of knives as he talks. “It’s just the two of us, so I should be able to fight should anyone come at us. But in the case that someone gets to you, you use the dagger, all right? And if you don’t have your dagger, use your body. Fists, elbows, knees. Connect with the throat, with the eyes. You might not be strong enough to faze an armoured person with a hit to the torso."

You nod, repeating the words in your head. Dagger, fists and elbows, throat and eyes.

“These will be too loud if we’re to carry them around, and we don’t have any harnesses on us.” He balls the bag up, sliding it and the daggers across the floor and back under your bed. He turns to you next, hands on your shoulders and looking into your eyes with a fierceness that almost shakes you. “If we get separated, you run into the forest, okay? You aim for the forest, and get as far in as you can. I’ll find you.”

Brows furrowing, you shake your head. “You- You say that like I’d leave you behind.”

“You have to, if I get caught- If I’m fighting someone. If you have the chance to run, you run, okay?”

You continue to stare at him, at Chan, who had been by your side all your life, who was asking you to leave him behind if the situation called for it.

“Promise me, your highness. If I tell you to go, you go, okay?”

He’s looking at you with such seriousness, with so much will and determination and need for you to to promise. And, were you to look closer, look longer, you’d see the fear in his eyes.

What was it that he knew, that he had thought about that you hadn’t quite comprehended about the situation yet? Surely it wasn’t so bad that Chan would have to… sacrifice himself, right?

“Y/n, I need to know you’ll be safe if I-”

“I promise.” The words manage their way up and out your mouth, leaving a vile taste behind. It was both a truth, and a lie. I promise I’ll be safe. I won’t leave you behind.

—

The plan had seemed simple when Chan had talked you through it, and perhaps it was naive of you to take his words at face value. You definitely thought so now, as you almost run into Chan for the third time as he stops abruptly at a corner.

Ahead, you can hear the sounds of voices - not hushed, but far enough that you can't make out any of the words. They slowly grow louder, louder, footsteps drowing out the words, and then all the sounds fade out all together.

“Okay, let's go.”

After a moment of silence, Chan moves again. You follow closely behind, glancing back every few seconds to make sure that no one had walked around the corner.

You were near a staircase, you knew. Another small spiraling one, not unlike the one you had fallen asleep upon.

Chan stops before the entrance. He pokes his head in, cocks his head slightly to the side - you wait, heart beating in your ears until Chan gives the all clear.

The pair of you descend the stairs, the cold entrapped in the small, stone-walled space sending shivers down your spines. You spare but the smallest thought to curse yourself silently for forgetting to bring coats - but this wasn’t a planned outing, really. Who had the luxury of time to remember coats?

As yellow torchlight can be seen reflected on the walls of the staircase, Chan turns his head to speak to you in a hushed voice.

“Once we exit the staircase, we’ll head straight for the back door. Once outside, head straight for the forest. If we get separated, meet near the clearing where you practice-”

Chan disappears from your sight, thrown to the left with a grunt of pain.

“Chan!”

You quickly descend the last few steps, turning to find Chan on the floor, an arm over his head protectively. As you go to take a step towards him, mind gone in your panic to see if he’s alright, your feet leave the ground.

“Let- Let go of me!”

The person behind you has a hand around each wrist, pushing your arms against your chest as they lift you off your feet. You’re kicking and yelling, the dagger in your hand useless with what little range of motion you have.

As if you were but a pillow, the person - a man, you guessed, from the grunts in your ear and the thick, muscular arms around you, - carries you over closer to Chan.

“It wouldn’t do his highness any good to leave someone so devoted to the princess alive-”

You freeze as dread feels your veins, your mind, every part of your body, filling you in a way that seemed to offset your balance.

His highness? He couldn’t mean- no-

The man moves you to the side, jerking motion pulling a cry from you. He pulls his leg back, prepares to kick Chan. You shut your eyes tight as you can, turning your head away - to see Chan in pain right now, to see him be hurt, would crush your spirit.

“Don’t worry, some of your buddies will be joining you soon,” the man says, before bringing his leg forward and-

A sharp curse is yelled into your ear before you feel yourself fall, eyes staying shut until you feel the body behind - no, beneath you, make impact with the ground.

The man’s arms loosen around you just enough for you to pull an arm free. The dagger, held so tight in your hand that you feel like it’s hilt would be imprinted into your palm, swings behind you blindly. There’s a shout of pain before the tip skids along the stone ground.

Whatever damage you had done was enough of a surprise for the man to release you.

You roll off of him, being sure to keep the blade of the dagger away from you, and scramble to your feet. Eyes wide, you take in the scene before you.

Chan, still on the ground, was pulling the man towards him by the foot; had he stayed on the floor on purpose to pull the perpetrator down with him?

“Chan-”

“Go, y/n!

You stare in horror as the man, getting dragged slowly but surely towards Chan, starts to come back to his senses and recover from the initial shock of the fall. Chan, while not lacking in the muscle department, looked like he would be done for if he took another few hits.

And yet he wanted you to leave him.

It was his job, you knew, but still-

“I’ll be right behind you! Just go!” Chan yells, half frantic and half commanding, eyes jumping haphazardly between you and the slowly awakening man. “You promised!”

You had, and yet you had also promised yourself you wouldn’t abandon him. But what use were you if you stayed?

Chan wouldn’t be able to use his sword, not at that close a distance. You knew enough about battle to know that. So you do the only thing you can for him in that moment.

“Here!”

Before Chan could even look at you, you slide the dagger in your hand towards him, hilt first. It glides across the ground, metal against stone filling your ears, and as it passes the man, a brief image of him grabbing it and diving forward at Chan flashes in your mind.

But he doesn’t grab for it, and the dagger comes to a stop at Chan’s knees. He looks at it in shock, confusion, then back at you and nods.

Now, go, his eyes seem to say.

A strange calmness had settled in Chan’s face, as if he had come to some final decision, had accepted something.

A pit of newfound discomfort makes its home in your stomach, but you do, this time. You go slowly at first, one step back, two, and then you turn your back and run.

You can hear grunts and yells as you run away from Chan and the other man. You can hear him yelling to let anyone nearby know that the princess was getting away, but you don’t turn back to see if anyone’s following you. Part of you feared you would lose your footing if you did, the harsh sounds of your running steps a driver to keep you going, and the other feared the potential scene you had left behind.

It was awfully difficult to run in the velvet dress. Though no where near the heaviest dress you had worn, the way the skirt’s layers moved against your legs seemed to act like a barrier. You fought on, pulling it up to free your ankles of the resistance. The echoes of your steps fill your ears, heart beating against your chest, in your ears, as the wooden door you had come through this morning finally becomes visible. As if in response to your near success, you can hear the sounds of more men coming - the clunking of armour, of swords being unsheathed, of incoherent orders being yelled.

You push the door, the velvet of the dress catching on the old wooden door; though reinforced with iron bars, the door itself had stood sturdy for as long as you can remember, and though well maintained, time had brought forth a few chips. It stood strong, even now, and your face scrunches up in effort - had it always been this heavy? - until finally, finally it groans open.

Cold night air slips through the gap, drying your eyes and piercing your already pained lungs further. You step out, one foot, then the other, and the door slams shut behind you.

The vast silence that greets you is deafening.

Despite the breeze that had slipped through the door, the air was still. Lack of wind didn’t make you any less cold, and you feel a shiver run through your body as you scan the horizon.

The forest behind the castle seemed frozen in place, and had it not been for the eerie way the clouds floated above the trees, you’d have no trouble believing someone had stopped time in its place.

Draped in the blues and purples of night, the stone stairs that lead down the east side of the castle and to the stream that separated the castle grounds from the forest looked colder than ever. You had fallen on them once when you were younger, the cold biting into your palms when you had gone to brace yourself. To fall again now might mean more than just scratched up hands and knees.

You hands fist at your sides when you feel the unnerving thoughts fill your mind. Into the forest, Chan had said. As far in as you can go, and he’ll find you.

He’ll find you. He would always find you, unless-

You take a deep, bone-rattling breath in and let the pain of cold air in your nose ground you. Pulling your skirts up once more, you make your way down the stairs.

Steady but fast, you descend the stairs. Each step reverberates through your body, the sound of your own breathing in your ears.

You didn’t dare to concentrate on anything other than placing one foot before the other and not missing a step - a tumble would be detrimental to everything, would put you at risk, would make Chan’s sac- would mean that Chan had stayed behind to fight for nothing.

Your boots make contact with grass, the soft surface of the new ground unsettling to your legs. One step, two, a glance behind. The door stood dark and unmoving - had the men not seen you leave it, or were they occupied elsewhere?

It mattered not - you take a deep gulp, cold air filling your throat, your lungs, before you start running towards the stream. Just past there, and you would be at the forest. While you had yet to explore the entire forest, you knew most of it, and you were certain that at the very least, you knew it better than the men who were attacking the castle.

The men who were attacking the castle… His highness, the man had said.

You were in denial, you knew, but there was only one person that you were aware of that held that title.

Your throat seemed to close up at the thought - the prince had been nothing but kind to you and your servants, had done nothing but try to get to know your land better… and it all could have been an act.

Yet some part of you wanted to believe he was better than that - better than someone who acted kind and gentle, who spoke fondly of their men, their friends, just to sympathise and get on your good side. But he had said it himself, no? That with the lives of their people in their hands, there are things that royals need to sacrifice?

The maelstrom of thoughts is pushed from your head when your feet meet new ground once again. The stream is shallow and unmoving, and yet dragging your feet through the water seemed to require a great deal more energy than ever before. It’s cold, the width from one side to the other large enough that despite your boots, your feet seem numb by the time you reach the other side. Your skirt, though you had held it as high as you could manage, had been caught by the river in the crossing and now seemed to drag behind you as you trudge through the last stretch of land to the forest.

And just in time.

Shouts from the castle reach your ears as you step between the trees, and you turn to see silhouettes of men, flames from their torches lighting up the sides of their face. Too far away for you to make out if the three of them were your men or not, yet close enough that they could see you should they descend the stairs.

So you push aside the small slimmer of hope that these were Chan’s men and scurry into the forest.

It was dark, twigs and leaves on the ground catching on your dress as you make your way in, and yet you found an odd comfort in the shadows of the trees. If the people chasing you were in fact from another land - you refused to even think that they might be your people - then being in the forest that you had explored since you were young would, theoretically, put you at an advantage. You might not know the entire forest inside and out, but you knew it well enough that you were confident you would be able to evade the pursuers.

At first, you follow the path you normally take when you go off in the early mornings to practice your knife throwing. Down between the two trees, perfectly lined up with each other, past the boulder that Chan had once chased you around - Chan- no, don’t get distracted - and down the steady slope, the well-trekked path obvious for it lacked foliage and branches in the way.

It was obvious.

So without a second thought, you turn to your right and dash madly in between the trees, losing yourself in their shadows.

No one had really ever travelled off the path, especially not this close to the castle grounds. The ground was far more uneven than the path before, sticks catching on your skirt, hitting the leather of your riding boots - you could feel the small thumps. Even your sleeves, though not wide, caught on the lower branches as you tried to push them out of the way. There was little to light your path but whatever moonlight managed to slip past the trees, highlighting the odd patch of forest ground. Leaves and rocks, roots and fallen branches. You tried to avoid what you could, tried your best to keep your footing, but it wasn’t long before you tripped.

Hands met the ground and a jarring pain shoots up your left arm. You try to stop the cry of pain from escaping your lips, your mouth opening in pained silence as your left hand gives way and you fall onto your side.

The ground is rough through the velvet of the dress, rocks digging into your shoulder as you cradle your arm to your chest. You give yourself only a second, two, to collect yourself. Your wrist hurt, the initial sharp pain dulling down to a strong throb that made you feel like your veins were about to burst with each pulse.

You push yourself up, forcing your legs to carry you further across the forest.

It feels an age before you finally come to a stop, hand against a tree to support yourself as laboured breathing hurts your chest, your head almost woozy from the adrenaline, the exhaustion, the panic and the confusion and the fact that you just didn’t know what was going on and if Chan was even-

Snap.

You force yourself to hold you breath mid-inhale, force your muscles to freeze and your mind to quiet down and your ears to listen.

Snap. Snap.

it wasn’t coming from directly behind you. You gulp, turning your head to your right, squinting against the darkness in some hope it would make your vision clearer.

There’s someone there, and even silhouetted from a distance, you can tell they’re in bad shape - one hand held a sword, the other their side, and with each step forward, a limp becomes more noticeable.

They raise their sword hand in greeting and it takes you a second to process.

Chan*.***

You trip in your haste to get to him, barely managing to regain your footing before your next step propels you forward. You’re stumbling across the ground and you feel the twigs get caught in your skirt, feel your feet kick them out of the way, but you don’t bother to hold your skirt up. The pain in your arm was holding you back from doing so, yes, but the sheer fact that Chan was alright and was here and that you’d found each other - that fact was enough for you to push forward.

You seem to reach him before he does you, your eyes drawing instantly to his left side - a hand was holding a piece of fabric to his side, and as your eyes scan him, you notice he had only one sleeve; he’d torn one off, using it as temporary gauze to stop what you can only imagine to be bleeding. The sword was held loosely in one hand, and to his thigh, your dagger was strapped.

“You’re a mess,” you whisper into the night, heart aching. Your fingers reach out, first for the wound at his side, then to cup his face, but they move ever so minutely that when you stop yourself - you’re a princess, damn it, and Chan was your knight; such acts weren’t befitting of your positions at all - Chan doesn’t even realise you had moved at all.

He chuckles, despite his appearance. Chan drops his sword and lifts his hand to your head, pulling something from your hear and flicking it away. “You’re one to talk.”

You pout, suddenly self conscious and try to clean off whatever dirt had clung to your dress. “Well, you could hardly expect me to look presentable, given the situation.”

“Ah.” Chan grimaces, as if suddenly reminded of the present. “The situation. We- We should get going, deeper into the forest and find somewhere to hide for the mean time.”

“Will you be okay? How bad is the wound?”

He nods, face set in a smile. “It’s nothing life threatening - just a graze,” he comments. “Just a bit of blood-”

He’s cut off as you reach for the dagger strapped to his leg.

“What are you-”

Reaching for the hem of your skirt, you drag the blade across the fabric. It rips with a satisfying sound. Dropping the dagger onto the forest floor, you continue to tear the fabric from the bottom of your dress. Your face burns - standing in front of Chan with your skirt pulled almost to your waist to tear the fabric… you somehow still had the mind to feel self-conscious.

“You can’t just hold that the entire time,” you explain with a final tug to the skirt. It falls back around your legs, higher than before. With a gulp and furiously burning ears, you wrap your arms around Chan’s torso, pulling the fabric around his waist twice before securing it with a knot. “There. Now your hands are free.”

Standing back, you smile at your work.

“Okay, let’s go,” you say and turn.

Though you were ready to move, Chan doesn’t budge. Your muscles relax in confusion, head cocking in question.

His eyes are on you. They’re dark, shadowed by his features, silhouetted by however much moonlight manages to trespass the trees, but you can feel his gaze.

“You’re not…” He gulps, taking in a shuddering breath that causes him to wince, and slowly exhales. “You’re not injured, are you?”

Eyes softening, you feel the urge to cup his cheek again. You shake your head gently. The pain in your arm was easing - it was nothing worth him fretting over.

But how could he, bleeding as he was, still be concerned for your wellbeing?

“I’m fine.” A gentle smile tugs at your lips, and you eye the makeshift bandage around his torso. “Start worrying about yourself more.”

Chan's concern falters and he scoffs. “It's my job to worry about you, your highness.”

He was right, you knew. It was his job, had been his job for as long as you could remember.

“We should get moving, though.” Chan breaks the silence that had fallen between the two of you. “If I were in their shoes, it won’t be along until I either loop back around or send out a full search party to cover the entire forest.”

“So what do we do?”

Your question is met with silence. Chan’s eyes had fixated on a spot on the ground, though you knew he wasn’t really looking at the ground. He had zoned out, the way he does when he gets lost in his thoughts.

Giving him his moment to think, you collect the dagger from the ground. It’s clean, void of any violence it may have taken part in. The blade shone in the night, edges sharp and though cold, the weight of it in your hand brings you an odd sense of comfort.

It reminded you of a time in your childhood when you’d carried an identical blade through these woods.

“I think I know where we can go.” It’s a rush of words as the idea fills your mind, as your brain tries to figure out the kinks in your underdeveloped plan. “He would help us. I know he would.”

An incredulous look passes Chan’s face, so theatrical and comedic that you almost burst out laughing despite the situation.

“’He’? Who is ‘he’?” Chan, so perplexed by the fact that you were acquainted with a boy outside the castle, is frozen in place. “Do I know this person? Why- How do you-” He clears his throat, composes himself, and tries to regain neutrality on his face. “I apologise, princess, but I… have been with you for years, have barely left your side when outside the castle walls… so please forgive my confusion at the moment.”

Though you’d not seen him since that night long ago, you knew he was here. Knew he had stayed in your kingdom, and knew he resided on the outskirts of the town. Any and all businesses who dealt in or with magic were to send official notice to the castle regarding the purpose of their business. Along with a variety of other contracts, it was a method through which the use of magic could be indirectly monitored. The practice had been picked up by all the kingdoms, and any one found to profit off of their magic outside of what they had agreed to would be punished.

You had spied Minho’s name, once, in one of the books that kept such details. An address had been scrawled next to it, and though you had read it out of interest, you had never expected to remember it, especially in a situation like this.

But a mage, you realise, would be the last person Chan would turn to. And how were you to explain how you knew him? How were you to explain why he would help you, without having Chan go off at you about how stupid your decisions had been?

So instead, you take in a slow, deep breath. Tilting your head back to look up at the moon concealed by trees, you exhale. It shone bright, a beautiful sight in the treacherous night.

“Do you trust me, Chan?”

He doesn’t miss a beat, voice filled with absolute certainty as he crosses an arm over his chest and lowers his head into a bow.

“With my life, my princess.”

You and Chan were fortunate enough to not run into anyone as you made your way around the castle grounds. The adrenaline pushes you, keeps your legs working and your ears on high alert. Many times, he had pushed you against a tree, his arm or even his body pressed against yours at the faintest possibility of running into anyone.

You held your breath in these moments. The proximity at which he held you left little space for you to even inhale as deeply as you needed to calm your breathing, and besides - the sound would be too loud to hear anything over it.

When the trees finally start thinning, your legs are heavy and your lungs feel something akin to having had inhaled a thousand thorns.

The forest ended at the top of the hill. To your right, the gates to the castle, the long road up hidden by the night. Before you, the town lay spread out. The houses clustered, divided at intervals to form the many streets. Lit windows were few, and yet you thought that you could almost, if you tried hard enough, hear the hearty laugh of men at pubs.

“Your highness, are you alright? On the edge of the forest may not be the wisest of places for us to rest, perhaps we should-”

Shaking your head, you gather your skirts once more and lift your head. “No, no rest. I was simply sentimental, for a moment. I apologise - such feelings will do us no good right now.”

An expression of confliction crosses Chan’s face, so brief that when you look at him, he looked impassive.

“So, where does this… this person live? Where are we headed?”

The address tumbles from your lips, pulling from Chan a strained look.

“That’s on the other side of the town-”

“But we’ve few, if any other choices,” you reason. “We can’t possibly return to the castle nor can we try and make it to the next town over with nothing on us. We don’t even have money, Chan.”

“Then the people of the town-”

“Will insist on helping us, I know, but I will not take advantage of their kindness when such a thing could put them in danger.” The words come out with much more force than you had intended, the subtle escalation of your conversation with Chan having taken the better of you.

But Chan is seemingly unaffected by it. He regards you with a thoughtful gaze, eyes dancing with both amusement and respect. “Very well. Across town we shall go, your highness.”

Tonight was a night of many firsts for you. The first time you had ever had to flee your home, the first time your life had ever been in danger, the first time you had ever genuinely feared losing Chan.

The feeling had been so alien to you, so impossible to ever fathom, so unnecessary to even had imagined in the past, that as you walked through the sleeping streets of the town you had grown to love so much, you had to resist holding onto Chan like you had when you were a child. It would be silly now, to hold his hand as you had in the past whilst sneaking around the castle. This wasn’t a game anymore; the consequences of being found by the wrong people wasn’t forced study in the library. It was worse, much worse.

So why not hold his hand? Keep him close, know he’s safe - not that you would be able to do much of the protecting, you knew.

But as it had been in the past - when one was in trouble, so too would be the other.

Your fingers flex at your side now, itching to reach out and hold onto Chan as he peers around the corner to ensure no one was there.

He tenses, the same time the sound of a girl's laughter reaches your ear. Footsteps are fast to fade, alongside the quiet murmurs of a man, loud in the soundless night. Lovers, perhaps, heading home together as the night grows old.

A quick gesture of the hands from Chan indicates that it was safe to move. The two of you dart out of the small alley you had been hiding in and enter the town square.

Another first to add to the list; never had you seen the town square bathed in the silver light of the moon, street lamps flickering orange and crossing at the center of the square. Perhaps it was your circumstances, but the emptiness of the town square leaves an uneasy feeling in your stomach.

Chan leads you around the edge, behind empty stalls and shrubbery. Your footsteps echo off the walls of the buildings, playing back into your ears as if to emphasise the emptiness of the town.

“Half way there,” Chan mumbles as he enters a dark alley.

Had that alley always been there? Had any of the roads you’d taken always been there? You knew, realistically speaking, they had been - and yet you could not recall ever having seen them before. Perhaps the street that the bakery had been on, you’d seen before - but the alley that smelt of old blood and meat, the alley that had crates of empty glass bottles stacked by the door. How did Chan know of these roads, of these many paths? Had he memorised the map of the town, the many streets that had never existed to you before now?

It was his job, you supposed, to know these things. And yet the sheer ability to know his way across the town amazed you. Had he ever walked these roads before, or was he simply relying on his mind’s eye, on the chance of an accurate mental recall of the many maps he’d studied?

The scenery had changed - houses were few now, the paths between buildings more dirt and stone than they were stoned tiles, like they’d been in the town square. As you and Chan make your way down the street, Chan a hand on his sword the whole time, you can’t help but marvel at the contrast present in just this one town. Had you not walked here with your own two feet, you would have believed this to be a whole new place. The town you were familiar with had tiled floors, had flowers blooming on the balconies and children in pinks and blues, greens and purples. Not the browns and creams that hung from laundry lines at the front of the houses in the night.

“Up ahead,” Chan breaths, and your eyes scan the distance.

It wasn’t hard to spot, really. The only lit house in the dark street, windows warm with yellow light. There was a sign hanging by the window, but you couldn’t make out the words - weather had gotten the better of the paint. It swung feebly with a passing breeze.

“I trust you, your highness.” Hushed words leave Chan’s lips, followed by a resigned sigh. “I just hope your own trust isn’t misplaced. If they so much as look like they’re going to hurt you, I’ll-”

“He won’t, Chan.” You place a hand on his arm. After a moment, you feel his muscles relax, and Chan moves towards the lit house.

He… won’t, right? You believed he wouldn’t - The last time you had seen him, he had been afraid. He hadn’t hurt you, though you knew he could have. He had listened to you, and you to him, and he had accepted what little help you could offer. You wanted to believe that people were good - that kindness would be remembered.

And yet, back at the castle, his highness-

“There’s someone inside.” Chan, nearing the lit window, holds a hand out to stop you. “I can’t be sure, but it seems to only be one person.”

It’s him. You swallow nervously.

How had the years changed him? Had they even changed him? Would he recognise you at all?

Chan was right. There was someone in the house, their silhouette faint against the window. They were moving around, though it was near impossible to tell what they were doing.

“Are you sure this is the house, your highness? And if so, are you sure this person can be trusted? We don’t know what will happen in the next few hours-”

“Well, we’ve little other choice.” Your statement is all you manage to get out before you push past Chan’s hand. It was now or never - dawdling by his door wouldn’t change the current situation.

Chan makes a shocked sound of protest as you push past him, but he doesn’t move to stop you - only to follow you, and you’re aware of his hand securing it’s grasp on his sword.

Standing in front of the door, you could make out the sound of running water. You raise a shaking hand, fingers curling uncertainly before you squeeze them into a fist and rap on the door. Three quick knocks, breath caught somewhere in your throat as you wait for a response.

Chan speaks up from behind you, voice urgent. “Your highness, please step back-”

The door swings open abruptly, causing you to flinch back in shock.

The heart is a funny thing, really. How can it hold so many emotions at once?

Looking at Minho after so many years was strange. It was like he hadn't aged at all, and yet he looked like he had matured twice as fast as you. His face, though as angular as it had been that night so long ago, was now more jawline and cheekbones, as opposed to malnourishment.

“Lower your weapon, knight, or else I’ll blast you from my door.”

He speaks with a tired drawl, though you see the way his eyes quint in suspicion.

“Minho, it’s me-”

“Yes, I saw you,” he cuts in, eyes still trained behind you. “Not as flashy as your friend’s sword, unfortunately.”

It’s a cold response, not at all what you had expected, but you turn all the same and glare at Chan.

“I told you he wouldn’t hurt us, so-”

“He just said he would blast me from the door-”

“Because you’re waving a great, big sword around, idiot,” Minho says with a roll of his eyes. He’s leaning against the door, body blocking the rest of his house.

“I’m her highness’ knight,” Chan states defiantly, as if challenging Minho. His gaze lingers on Chan for a second longer before he looks at you - really looks at you.

It feels like ice piercing through you, his eyes reading every thought in your head. He knows why we’re here, a small voice in your head tells you. But how could he possibly know that?

“’Her highness,’ huh.” Minho lets the words sit on his tongue, lets it mull over in his head as he regards you. His gaze falls briefly to the dagger in your hand. “Well, I don’t suppose that after all these years you just decided to spontaneously come by in the middle of the night to see how I’m doing, so it’s probably best I invite you in,” he concludes with a sigh. “Tell your knight to sheath his sword, or it’ll be as existent as his sleeve there.”

“We- We don’t have sheaths on us,” you explain hesitantly. “Or anything, really. Just his sword, and the dagger. Not even any money.”

Minho looks down at you - he was taller than you and held himself with such an air of indifference that you couldn’t bare to maintain eye contact. Were you right to come here at all? To ask for help, and, despite your position, have nothing to offer in return?

A defeated sigh leaves him before he steps aside. “Whatever. Hurry in, then.”

He steps aside and after a moment’s hesitation, you make your way into his house.

It was cozy, unlike the great stone walls of your home. Sure, the library fireplace was warm and comforting, but the sheer size of the castle and all of its many rooms were nothing compared to the small space Minho lived in.

Dried plants hung over the window, each bundle a different kind. The table was laid not with the remnants of a meal well eaten, but with more plants and glass bottles, books opened with feathers marking different sections, and a range of things you barely had time to try and identify before you were ushered further into the house.

A fire blazed low in the corner of the room, opposite a messy looking kitchen. The sink was filled with unwashed dishes and more glass bottles, which you had only ever seen in books before. Few chairs were scattered around the room - wooden chairs that you assumed to belong to the table out front were occupied by books and blankets, and a long, two-person sofa had been turned into a makeshift bed. In the corner between the sofa and the fireplace, two wooden doors lead off into unknown areas of the house.

“Well, do sit down,” Minho says with a wave of his hand. Static seems to fill the air as items move from the chairs to the floor, neatly stacking themselves upon one another. “Having the princess and her royal knight standing about my living room is making me quite… anxious, for lack of a better word.”

You watch in amazement as the blankets fold themselves up.

“You’re a magic user?!” Chan whirls on Minho, eyes wide in shock. There’s an edge of something akin to fear or anger - you can’t quite place it, distracted instead by the way the room accommodates for two more people.

“What, your princess didn’t mention that I’m a mage?” Minho retorts, amusement in his eyes. “Shame. But that seems the least of your problems, if you’re coming to my door at this hour. Now, sit.”

An invisible force maneuvers you and Chan down into the sofa. Chan falls with an indignant sound - was this his first time encountering magic? You’d never talked to Chan about magic, before. Nothing beyond stories of faeries and witches, curses and potions.

“Minho,” you begin, before Chan could say anything to worsen a relationship you were surprised had started off on such bad footing. “We- we need you help. I need your help.”

You meet his eye, and for the first time that night, Minho holds your gaze with a seriousness that felt befitting of the situation. Was he aware, after all, of the situation? You were sure that the voice you had heard earlier that night had been his. But no matter how you tried to rethink the situation, there was nothing you could think of that would explain why he had told you to run.

Perhaps you had imagined it, in your drowsed, sluggish state, but you search his face all the same, for any sign that he had sent you the message, had been aware of the potential danger you had been in.

He turns away, a shrug of his shoulders the only sign that he had heard your request at all.

Minho moves to the sink, and in a surprising act of normalcy, picks of a sponge and turns on the tap. He begins to wash his dishes.

Chan glances towards you - this person who you had believed would help obviously showed no care about whatever predicament you were in.

You fidget nervously at the velvet of your dress. Minho places a soaped up plate in the adjacent sink.

“I was hoping-”

“If you knew where to find me,” he suddenly says, his back still towards you and Chan, “Then you’ll know I run a business. Magical assistance in exchange for payment. And, as I recall, the pair of you are quite penniless at the moment.”

“Her highness is still the royal princess.” Chan sounded like he was speaking in court, stating facts as if to argue their case. His voice was clear, rock solid despite your wavering faith in Minho. “Whilst we may currently be in a difficult situation, rest assured that your assistance, should it be provided and adequate, will be rewarded fittingly.”

Minho doesn’t reply to this. He continues to wash his dishes. In the silence, you look around the living space.

Unlike your own home, the walls of Minho’s house were bare of any intricacies. Simple wood, with no grand photos of family members hanging - though, knowing Minho, you’d be surprised if he even had any. Across the fireplace mantel were jars of what seemed to be dried up herbs, sticks of what you recognised as cinnamon, and- were those egg shells? A strange assortment of things, you mused.

“Your highness,” Chan whispers. He leans in towards you, sofa shifting under him, and raises a hand to cover his mouth. “Perhaps your trust- Apologies. Perhaps we are unwelcomed here. It may be best we leave as soon as possible, if this boy refuses to help us.”

“He’s the same age as us, Chan.” Well, you think he is, anyways. “Please - just give it another minute.”

Despite your hopes, Chan seems to be right. The only thing dissuading you from the belief that Minho wanted nothing to do with your recent events was the fact that he hadn’t blatantly turned you away.

The sound of water eases and shuts off. Minho busies his hands - with what, you couldn’t see.

“Was there trouble? At the palace?”

You’re surprised by his question - so he was willing to help? Or, at the very least, hear you out?

“Yes, how did-”

“What makes you say that?” Chan says, and a jolt ran through you. Never had Chan spoken over you so forcefully before. He doesn’t meet your eyes and instead frowns at the back of the mage’s head.

Minho doesn’t answer immediately. He continues whatever other task he had started, back to you. After a few seconds, he turns and grabs for a tea towel. He leans back against the sink, wiping his hands.

“Well, is it not the most obvious thing to have happened?” With a forced smile at Chan, Minho discards the towel behind him. “Why else would you and the princess be at my door, penniless and on foot, at this hour? If not for trouble at the palace, surely you would have opted for a horse or two, and if you knew I ran a business, surely you would come with some form of payment.”

The points, while well made, seemed to do little to ease whatever suspicion had overcome Chan - it didn’t take much to guess what those suspicions were concerning, and you turn to Chan with a resigned look.

“It took you some time to formulate such an easily deducible answer,” Chan muses aloud.

“Well, then why ask such an obvious question?” Minho retorts and all of a sudden the temperature in the room seems to drop. The air seems to fizz, and a stroke of fear enters your body as he returns Chan’s glare with his own pointed look.

He pushes off of the sink and walks forward.

He doesn’t carry the same angry threat that you’d seen come from Chan when his men were out of line. No glowering, no fists at his side, no long strides to advance upon his opponent. He seems to simply walk across the room instead, his head held high and jaw clenched ever so subtly, never breaking eye contact with Chan. He stops half-way - he doesn’t need to make the full distance. Chan abruptly stands up and makes his own advance.

“Chan, honestly*-***”

“I don’t quite appreciate the way you’re regarding me, knight.” Each of Minho’s words seems to be accentuated by the flicker of the fireplace flame. They’re spoken clearly, carefully - not quite a whisper, but then again, it didn’t take much for him to be heard in the silence. “The implications you’re making, while subtle, are not left unknown to me, human.”

The two of them, knight and mage, are in the middle of Minho’s living space, the tension so high that you didn’t know who to fear for.

“I’ll have you know something, mage*.***” Chan snarls. “I don’t trust you. Not one bit; not at all.” He’s breathing down Minho’s chest, a snarl you’d never seen before turning the face of someone you’d grown up with into someone almost unrecognisable. “I’m only here because her highness believes strongly that you will help us.” He jabs a finger into Minho’s chest, though the latter only raises a brow. “However, it is my job to keep her safe and even if I respect her opinion of others, it does not mean that her and I are of the same mind.”

He’s breathing heavily by the end of it, the tips of his ears red. You had risen from your seat at some point, the waves of unease in your stomach turning turbulent. Your eyes dart back and forth between the two of them.

“And I’ll remind you that it is my house you are standing in and it is my assistance that you are seeking.”

Minho is no where near taller than Chan. The two stand face to face, and yet it was like the mage was looking down at Chan. The scary calm that had taken over him, the careful control of his emotions and his magic - you could feel it in the air, feel the static you had felt earlier, only this was cold. Cold, chilling static, like that of winter waters or thick snowfall.

He doesn’t break eye-contact with Chan. He blinks, he takes steady breaths, he keeps his chin raised, but he doesn’t falter.

After what feels like an age, Chan turns and walks past Minho. You take a step after him, fearful that he was about to leave out the front door, but he simply places himself on one of the vacated stools. He was out of Minho’s point of view, and though the latter was still in his, Chan crossed his arms and closed his eyes, leaning back against the wall.

It seemed impossible for you to exhale fully, much less take a deep breath. You had expected some resistance from Chan when he inevitably found out that Minho was a mage but whatever had happened in the last few minutes was beyond anything you could have imagined.

“Minho, I-” You turn hastily away from Chan and to Minho, who had not moved. He looks at you now with troubled eyes. Gulping, you take in the deepest breath you can manage and exhale through pursed lips. You try again. “Could we perhaps take this elsewhere?”

A tired, resigned smile makes its way to Minho’s face. “Perhaps that would be best.”

It turns out, you discover, that one of the two mysterious doors led out to a garden.

The door shuts quietly behind you as you breathe in the night air. Minho’s garden, while no larger than his living space, seemed to house a variety of plants. Flowers of differing colours, shapes and sizes filled the majority of the space, alongside some recognisable vegetables - tomatoes and lettuce, though few, seemed fresh and ready to harvest. All the plants, you notice, seem to shine in the night. Taking a step closer, you almost let out an exclamation as one, two, three glowing creatures dart in and between the flowers.

“They maintain the garden for me,” Minho says, as if it explained everything. You turn to him, having forgotten for a moment that he was with you. “A marvelous help, they are, especially when I’m away on business.”

He picks up a basket, hanging it off his arm and walks up to a purple flower. You watch as Minho inspects it before pulling a pair of scissors from the basket and cutting the flower off its stem.

“Minho, I wanted to apologise for-”

“There is no need. I don’t seek an apology from you - nor the knight, I might add, before you berate him for his behaviour.” His basket was quickly filling with flowers, though you note there’s no more than two of each kind. “It is not uncommon for me to hear such things, for it is not easy to place your faith in things you do not understand. Though, I confess, such things are less common now. Do you mind?”

He hands you the basket - now filled with so many things that you wouldn’t know where to start if he were to ask you to remove a flower from the lot - and picks up another. This one he begins to fill with produce.

“But he is still my knight, and I ask for your assistance not just for myself but for him as well. Tonight-” You break off, and Minho spares you a glance over the shoulder before he returns to his carrots. “It is perhaps unfair of me to ask you for your help, after all these years,” you finish, an increasing hopelessness somehow making sense of itself in your mind.

A decade, perhaps, it had been since you last saw him. You had every possible means to seek him out after parting, had an abundance of ways you could have assisted him - for you knew, even if he had rejected help the first time, that to do something was better than nothing, and yet you had kept quiet about your encounter. For his own safety, one may have reasoned, but in hindsight it seemed a child’s selfishness was what kept him a secret. Something for you to know, and no one else. Not the maids who tended to you every day, or the queen who asked you what you had done that afternoon, or Chan who was by your side whenever possible.

Minho had returned to stand before you, the second basket full of tomatoes, lettuce, and a range of root vegetables. The hem of his pants were speckled with dirt, and a smudge of it ran over his cheek.

“You saved my life, y/n. I think you underestimate the consequences of our meeting far too much.”

It was like the child you had met so many years ago was back before you, a vulnerability in his eyes that you couldn’t quite understand. You, who had always been sheltered, had always had your safety assured, prioritised, and the child who had been covered in dirt and bruises, twigs sticking out of his hair and so tangled up that you’d had to sit him down and carefully undo all the knots.

The way Minho looked at you now almost scared you - if your request had been not for help, but for his life, you were sure he would have said yes.

Unable to hold the truth in his gaze any longer, you busy yourself with readjusting the basket in your hand, carefully easing the petals away from the rim as to not crush them.

“The last thing I wish to do is to hold that over you, Minho,” you say softly. “It was wrong of me to come to you for help when I fear that asking it of others would endanger their safety. You too are part of this kingdom, and I cannot simply treat you different because of the past.”

“Can’t you?” He sounds wistful, you think, the words almost musing, so soft and quiet that you weren’t sure if they were meant for only your ears, or for no one’s at all.

Then, as if there had been no sentimentality at all, Minho flourishes his hand and the basket of flowers levitates out of your grasp. “I’ll help you - but first, it would seem a good night’s sleep would do you well.”

The door swing opens as Minho nears it, and he gestures for you to enter the house first. The flowers follow you in, Minho bringing up the rear.

Chan, who’d been pacing by the fire, looks up abruptly when he hears you come in. Relief seems to wash over his features, and you give him a strained smile.

“Minho said he’d help us.” You lay a hand on Chan’s arm, and the tension seems to leave his body at the confirmation of your physical presence. “We can rest here for the night, and figure everything out tomorrow.”

“On that note - here, to help you sleep.” A small opaque bottle floats its way to you. “Just light a match, drop in there and leave it in the room. I’m sure the night’s events will leave your mind running when given the chance.”

You take the jar in your hands, feeling its weight as the magic disappears. Peering inside seemed pointless - the opening was just small enough for your finger to fit in; barely enough light could enter the jar for you to see its contents.

“And a salve, for any minor wounds you may have.”

This time, a red jar lands by the sink. It’s even smaller than the bottle, barely the size of your palm. Though Minho doesn’t look at him, you know that he had taken note of the wound at Chan’s side.

“You can take my bed, y/n. The knight can sleep on the floor, or something. I don’t really care.”

“You little-”

Minho ignores Chan, moving to grab a satchel from the table. Your eyes follow him, the way he truly seems to disregard Chan’s presence as he walks past him and towards the front door.

“And you? Where will you sleep, then? I insist you keep your bed-”

“Oh, I won’t be sleeping tonight.” Hand on the doorknob, he turns to you with a glint in his eye. “The moon is full. It’d be a waste to do something as mundane as sleep tonight. I’ll be close by, and there are protective charms on the house. Worry not.”

The door shuts behind him before you or Chan can even protest.

—

Chan’s wound had stopped bleeding. Though he had played it off as a simple graze, you were relieved to see it wasn’t too much of an understatement. The initial redness that surrounded the wound had frozen your mind with fear, but after taking a wet cloth to it, you discovered that it was mostly dried blood that had spread.

The salve Minho had given you smelt resinous, like wood that had been left out in the rain. Your face scrunches up as you scoop a small amount up with your fingers. Setting the jar down next to the chair Chan was sat on, you steady yourself with a hand on his knee and run the salve over his wound. He flinches at the sensation, muscles tensing under your fingers, but keeps his shirt held up.

“You don’t think he’s tricked you into poisoning me, do you?”

You spare a glare at Chan.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you say, though you know he was just trying to ease the tension.

Though Minho hadn’t returned since he’d left, you could still feel Chan’s discomfort with the situation. He too seemed to sense that you wee troubled - you had caught him shooting you anxious glances as you’d prepared to treat his wound.

“You know, he told me not to berate you.” Having finished applying the salve, you push yourself up from the floor and dust your skirts off. Chan avoids your eye, fixating instead on straightening his shirt and picking at the torn fabric under the flickering light of the fireplace. “Just because he says he doesn’t seek an apology, doesn’t mean that he shouldn’t get one.”

Chan’s jaw clenches, and he looks up you through furrowed brows. “Are you ordering me to apologise to him?”

Your jaw drops at his words, helpless against the hurt that they bring you. For him to bring status into this, to make it seem like he would rather be anywhere but here - his words from earlier echo in your brain: I’m only here because her highness believes strongly that you will help us.

“Chan, that’s not at all what I-”

“I don’t feel like I’ve anything to apologise for,” he says, voice edged with annoyance. “I don’t trust him. I have spoken my truth - but I won’t interrogate you for yours.” His voice is gentler, resigned. “Though, I admit the mage is right. You should rest, your highness. It has been an eventful night, and you will need your energy for tomorrow.”

It felt wrong, to leave and rest without resolving the tension that had formed between you and Chan. A part of you didn’t understand why he had been so aggressive towards Minho, why he was so against the idea of his help… and yet you knew it was wrong of you to expect Chan to understand your thoughts and feelings when you had given him nothing to help form an understanding of your relationship with Minho. To Chan, you realised, Minho was simply an unknown stranger who possessed the abilities to have aided the night’s chaos.

But it felt wrong to reveal your and Minho’s shared history with Chan. Afterall, it wasn’t only your story to tell.

So you take a deep breath, try to catch Chan’s eye one more time, before murmuring a small goodnight.

Minho’s bedroom, located behind the second of the mysterious doors, was dimly lit by a a candle sitting on the corner of his desk. There was a single, unmade bed next to it, and a set of drawers at the other end of the room. Another door (which you presumed led to the bathroom, for you hadn’t seen one in your time here, and what home had no bathroom?) stood in the corner, next to the drawers. There was a window,

It was a small bedroom, void of anything unnecessary.

Placing the bottle Minho had given you on the table, you search for a match. His desk was covered in books and papers, and it’s not until you brave a small box on his desk that you find the matches. You do as he had instructed - striking one, you watch as the corner you stood in lit orange before dropping it into the bottle.

You had been skeptical that dropping a match into such a small space would work - surely, the fire would be extinguished, right? - but you’re mildly surprised when a soft, sweet scent arises. It reminded you of home, of late nights spend in the library reading stories of knights and princesses, witches and curses. A familiar drowsiness overcomes you.

It doesn’t take long for you to find yourself sliding under Minho’s covers. Your mind spares a moment for you to feel embarrassed at the act of sleeping in not only someone else’s bed, but in a man’s bed, before it lets the exhaustion take over.

This time, you don’t fight the heaviness of your body like you had so many hours ago.

This time, you let it consume you.

---

a/n: hi hi! thank you for reading. comments, throughts, feedback, questions - all of these (and more) are appreciated! if you want to be added to the taglist (or alternatively, removed) please let me know &lt;3

[mx-kay]

hiii!!! i just gotta tell you this scenario I’ve been thinking about!🥺

Dustin goes out into the woods (maybe to the picnic table Eddie was at with Chrissy) to clear his mind cause he misses Eddie so much. Dustin sits there crying out Eddie’s name, tears are pouring from his eyes as he thinks about Eddie, but poor Dustin is totally unaware that Eddie is alive and was turned into a giant, who of course is secretly watching Dustin from afar and his giant heart is breaking at the sight of Dustin crying😭

Hold On

Mini Giant!Eddie & Human!Dustin

Rating : T, SFW

Word Count : 2,621

TW : Several mentions of death, description of distorted body parts (not gore!!!), small mention of the Satanic Panic, very brief mention of self mutilation

Extra : I may have took a little creative liberty on this because I love vampire Eddie and also love when people give him a monstrous look that just happens to be mini giant sized. If you want one where he’s just a giant, send another ask in and I’ll write another version! Also, I apologize if this doesn’t flow very well. I wrote half of this while I was sick and Dustin was also really hard for me to write. Idk why, I think it’s because we’ve never really seen him grieve on screen so I had nothing to go off of. Hope he’s not too OOC. (Eddie’s design was inspired by l33chjar on TikTok, though more proportionate.)

———— 🦇 ————

It was around mid-April when the rumors started up.

Small towns were often known for how quickly gossip spread, and with Hawkins now dwindling population it was definitely no exception. The small handful of people who still dared to live there were quick to hear of the massive shadow now said to haunt the woodlands near the school. As if there wasn’t already reason enough to keep their kids locked indoors at all times.

As most rumors of this nature went, people couldn’t seem to come to an agreement on what it looked like. Some claimed it had an almost human appearance, despite its ink colored fur and ivory claws. Others would call it beastly, with sharp fangs and giant wings and glowing red eyes. Despite all the differing opinions though, one thing was always the same. The creature was massive. Easily over twelve feet standing upright. People claimed it was a sign that the devil was indeed in Hawkins, a few going as far as to say it was summoned by Eddie Munson through his ritual sacrifices.

Those who knew the truth about what laid beneath Hawkins were in just as much confusion on what it could possibly be. Demogorgons were definitely tall, but they weren’t that tall. The Mind Flayer was also a possibility, but even then there were details that didn’t add up. Other key details used to describe the creature were its glowing red eyes and giant pair of bat-like wings. Creatures of the Upside Down didn’t have faces, and the demobats were simply too small to be a possibility. Had they somehow evolved? Or was this an entirely new monstrosity they had yet to face?

No one was quite sure, and it put them all on edge.

———— 🦇 ————

Dustin knew he shouldn’t be here. Especially not alone. Not only had his mother basically banned him from going, Steve had also had several fights with him over going back. The woods near the school were a no-go zone, a place he should be absolutely nowhere near until they knew exactly what they were up against. Whatever was in there would more than likely not hesitate to kill or seriously maim.

Despite all this, the countless hours of hearing the adults of the group repeat it over and over and over, here he stood. Maybe a yard away from the tree line. The sun was slowly sinking behind the trees, casting him in a dark shadow and causing him to shiver. The spring weather was still clinging to the air, meaning it was almost cold in the shade. Maple seeds laid scattered in the grass as the evening birds sang. It was peaceful.

God this was a bad idea, he knew it was, but he was here anyways. He had to be. Eddie’s memorial was here, one Dustin had set up himself. Were they really expecting to keep him from visiting? “I’m never going to hear the end of this,” he muttered, already picturing Steve’s rant when he got back. Honestly, they probably should have expected him to come here. He wasn’t quite known for his keen sense of judgement after the whole Dart incident.

Taking a deep breath and shaking out the nerves, Dustin took a step forward. “Into the Death Star.”

———— 🦇 ————

Never in his entire life did Eddie Munson think he would hate trees as much as he did right now.

Well, maybe life. Was he alive? He still didn’t quite know the answer to that one. He quite vividly remembered not being alive for a moment, of shaky hands gripping him tight as Dustin cried over him. Pretty soon after everything went black, though, he’d sat up in a terrible coughing fit and feeling like he was having the absolute worst hangover. His entire body felt as if it’s been pulled inside out or something of the like. For a moment he simply had to relearn how to breathe.

It was only after his brain seemed to finally reboot that he noticed the physical changes. He had thought the feeling of wrongness was just the thick air of the Upside Down surrounding him, not his entire fucking body now stretched out like a piece of taffy. His already gangly limbs were now abnormally long and ended in black fur and sharp claws. That wasn’t even as bad as the new appendages he now sported, the large pointed bat ears and massive wings and whipping tail.

He didn’t quite have a definite number for the amount of panic attacks he’s had since his “rebirth”.

After crawling his way out of one of the massive cracks now tearing through Hawkins, Eddie’s first instinct was to find the rest of his party. When something as big as this happened, it was never good to have the party separated. With a little trial and error — or just him figuring out his now heightened sense of hearing and smell — he found himself in the woods surrounding Hawkins High. It seems most of Hawkins was now situated in the gym after losing their homes to the “earthquake”. It took all of his willpower not to run out and hug his uncle when he first saw him exit the building, even more so when he saw the necklace currently around his neck. Eddie’s necklace, the one he used in the Upside Down. Dustin must have grabbed it from him specifically to give to Wayne. God, they probably told him he was dead. Everyone either thought he was a murderer or dead.

He wanted to tell everyone he was alright. Well, alright as he could be after coming back to life looking like the demon everyone thought he was. Point is, Eddie hated that he couldn’t tell them he was alive. There were just too many people that could see him. The close calls he’d already had were enough to keep him farther back from the school. There was just never a good chance to get anyone’s attention without alerting the whole town. So he kept to the woods.

Woods meant trees though, and branches that just loved to snag as his new pair of wings. They were cool in theory, but actually having them was torture. “I’m gonna start purposefully tearing off branches at this point,” he grumbled to himself, tail lashing slightly behind him and nearly hitting the picnic table. That was an odd feeling as well. It was like having a second, more flexible spine connected to his ass. Uncomfortable. He wondered if it would grow back like a lizard’s if he tore it off, but knew he really probably shouldn’t test that theory. He needed it for balance anyways, with his legs now far more resembling an animal’s than normal human ones. Jesus, he’d already had to deal with body dysphoria before the incident, this was not helping.

A branch snapped up the path leading to the picnic table.

Eddie froze mid-step in his pacing, ears swiveling as his head turned in the sound’s direction. Shit. Shit. He’d been so lost in his head that he hadn’t heard the approaching footfall. It was close too, a quick but heavy step that seemed to have a purpose. God, Jesus, he was so fucking screwed. What if it was a hunter? Someone who’d come specifically to see if they could take down the mighty beast lurking in the high school forest? What if they had a gun and shot at him? What if it didn’t miss? He couldn’t breathe, his brain fuzzy with panic. Turning, he scrambled into the woods, flattening himself to the forest floor and, for once in his life, praying to anything out there that he wouldn’t be spotted.

The person entered the clearing the moment he stilled.

———— 🦇 ————

Dropping his bag, Dustin sat at the table with a heavy sigh. There were only a few things scattered over the top, moved from their original spots by the forces of nature, but he quickly placed it all back in the center. It wasn’t much. A bag of DnD dice and a few figurines, a handful of guitar picks, a Hellfire shirt, and a few other things. Most of it was placed here himself. It wasn’t much, but it was the best he could do in these circumstances. It hurt that he couldn’t do more.

“Hey Eddie.”

He liked to do this when he was alone here. Talk, act like nothing ever happened and Eddie was sitting right across from him. Pretend it was all ok.

“Sorry I haven’t been around. Steve went all mom mode and wouldn’t let me come. I think they’re all overreacting, we all know the Upside Down creatures hate fire. We could just burn whatever son of a bitch that’s in the woods.”

He looked back down at the backpack he’d brought with him. It wasn’t a flamethrower, but he had brought a lighter and a can of hairspray. He wasn’t stupid enough to not come at least somewhat prepared.

“Good news, Max is awake! She’s always complaining about how much her legs and arms hurt. Mostly just doing it to annoy us and boss us around, but everyone’s giving her a pass on that one. I think everyone’s just relieved she’s okay.”

He stopped for a moment, staring down at the pile laid out in front of him.

“She uh, she asked about you.”

The room had gone quiet as Max had questioned where Eddie was. Even if no one had immediately given her an answer, the silence said enough. They could tell it hurt her, even if she acted nonchalant about it. She wasn’t the only one. Everyone in the Hawkins group was mourning in their own way.

He could feel his eyes start to burn. “Jesus,” he sniffed, trying to wipe the tears away. It didn’t seem to help. “You know, I told Steve one time that if he died, I’d die. It was back in the secret Russian base I never got to tell you about. I think that-” he voice cracked. “I think that applied to you too.” He might not have physically died, but he didn’t feel alive either. Grief killed. He could feel something in him had died that day, was maybe still dying. His eyes burned, his throat burned, his chest burned. It burned and ached and ate him inside and left him feeling empty and hollow and dead.

He sobbed, “Why did you do it?” He’d asked himself that question so many times it felt like a personal mantra. “You could have climbed up and we could have covered the gate or hidden or something. We could have figured something out! Steve said don’t be a hero and you said you wouldn’t and then you did, and that’s bullshit! Bullshit! We have a rule in the party, friends don’t lie, and you broke it. You broke it and I hate you for it!” The yells tapered off into full body crying.

He was angry and hurt and almost missed the soft croaking sob from farther in the woods, “I deserve that.”

Dustin froze. He sniffed, trying to wipe his tears from his face. God, that voice. That voice, it sounded like … no, not it couldn’t be. There was no way. No possible way. “…Eddie?” The call was small and tentative, almost like he was afraid of being caught saying it. Like someone would jump out and laugh at him for even thinking of the possibility.

There was a moment of silence. Maybe he was just hearing things. Finally lost his mind from this.

“…Shit.”

There was a loud shuffling noise in the more shadowed part of the woods across the table from him. Dustin shot up from his seat, mouth gaping before he rushed to get around the bench. “Holy fucking shit, Eddie, is that you?!” he yelled, sprinting for the trees.

Something large snapped up in the shadows, quickly followed by Eddie’s voice, “Woah woah woah woah, hey, stop for a moment! Don’t come any closer!”

The frantic and frankly frightened sounding cry was confusing enough to stop him in his tracks. “Eddie, what…” The question went unfinished.

There was a sigh and a sniffle, “First off, you really need to watch your mouth. Don’t think Mama Harrington would like it too much if he caught you saying that.” Dustin rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to reply but was cut off. “Second…second, is…” He paused for a moment, almost sounding choked. “I’m not the same, Henderson,” he finally let out, “I think those bats might have done a little more than take a bite out of me.”

The admission hung in the air for a moment. A frown crossed his face, “What do you mean? Like, what, you’re a zombie now? Are you an Upside Down zombie?”

Something about that was funny as Eddie let out a soft snort of laughter, but it was quickly shot down, “No, no new affinity for brains.” He paused again before speaking, “Try blood.”

Dustin seemed to think on that for a moment before looking back towards the shadow in the woods he was sure was Eddie. “You’re a vampire?” he asked as if to get affirmation, but shook his head before Eddie could speak. “You know what, I don’t care what you look like, I’m coming in.”

The shadow sunk down into the bushes, “Henderson, Henderson, that’s not a good idea man-“

“No!”

It was quiet again, besides his hiccuping breaths. Dustin shook his head, tears springing back up. “No, Eddie.” His voice was cracking again. “The last thing I saw you do was die. I watched you die and it’s been on repeat in the back of my mind ever since! So I don’t care what you look like, I just care about seeing you alive so I don’t have to keep seeing you dead in my arms!” The last sentence seemed to echo through the forest for a moment, clinging to whatever it hit. The silence was near deafening, the trees themselves seeming to hold their breath.

A watery laugh echoed back, “Glad to see you haven’t changed Dustin.” He took a breath, and followed with a much softer, “Just, don’t freak out. Please.” And then the forest seemed to move.

Dustin gaped at the now massive shape, instinctively taking a step back as it rose. “Holy shit,” he breathed out, his brain trying to process what exactly he was seeing. Two points stuck out from the top of the head, reminiscent of horns, as two wing-like shapes devoured the rest of the body in shadow. Red pupils seemed to glow from the depths of the curly halo of hair around its head. His head craned back as the form began to walk forward and oh shit that thing was huge and he couldn’t help a few more steps back and-

There was Eddie. Eddie, who he saw die and who was now here. Eddie, the closest person besides Steve that he’d ever considered a brother. Eddie, who now had wings and fur and claws and oh those were bat ears not horns and was that a tail and never mind it didn’t matter he was here and honestly looked like a kicked puppy and Dustin could help but let out a sob and reach up for a hug.

He instantly knelt down and pulled him close, though was careful of his sharper edges. He could feel Dustin shaking as he sobbed into him, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt. “I’m sorry,” Eddie whispered. He’d hurt the kid. Even if he’d been trying to save his life, he’d hurt him. “I’m so sorry.”

And for a moment, as the sun set, they simply held on.

[unlikelymilkshakedream]

Hey! I’m really enjoying your works and was wondering if you could do a poly DSG where the reader was SAed when they were younger and the memories of it are starting to come back in the form of nightmares and panic attacks. Like when the boys arnt home Y/N has a panic attack/ptsd memories and she tries to calm down but nothings working and she calls/the boys come home and she calms down. It’s totally fine if your uncomfortable with it I completely understand :) thank you so much♥️♥️

Okay, very sorry this took my so long to answer, idk why i didn't get the notification that i had an ask lol. But thank you so much for this request i love the idea and hope I did it justice!

I had been living with my boyfriends for about a year and half at this point. Everything was going great, we were all so in love with each other and I couldn't see life without them.

My boyfriends, Sapnap, Dream and George, were the best I could ever ask for. They were always comforting me when I needed it, always making me laugh and even trolling chat with my voice on their streams.

I truly believed my life was perfect, so perfect that I was happy enough to subdue my memories of my past. I hadn't grown up in the best family, even though from the outside it looked like I had. There was a lot that happens behind closed doors that doesn't see the light of day, either due to embarrassment, denial or fear.

That's why I left home and came to Florida. My family was not right for me, I felt like I was drowning, I felt like I couldn't breath in their presence. I needed to get out, so when I became an adult, that's exactly what I did. I ran, essentially for my life, down the east coast to the sandy beaches of Orlando.

That's where I met my boyfriends, well, technically I met Dream first, then he introduced me to his roommates and best friends, Sapnap and George. After a while we were all happy and there was way too much sexual tension between us, so we became one big couple.

My life in Florida was amazing and I didn't think there was anything that could mess it up. Until one night when I woke up in a cold sweat. The boys were still asleep so I slipped out of bed to the bathroom.

I knew I was shaken up about the dream I had just had. I didn't remember everything, but I remembered enough to tell me that it was a dream about my experience as a child, one I thought I burried deep within. I tried not to think of all the details and just forget about it. I splashed some water on my face to cool down and went back to bed. I didn't fall asleep for many hours however, not until George threw his arm over my shoulder and snuggled into my back.

After that dream, I didn't think I would have another one. It had been a couple of days and I thought it was just a one time thing, but then, I had a lucid dream.

I saw my eight year old self, walking with my dad in the park in Michigan, where I lived prior to Florida. It was just us that day, I dont remember why my family didn't go with us. We stopped and got ice cream and I played in the park all afternoon long. It was a great day, then we got in the car and my dad put me in the back seat.

I asked him if we were going home and he told me he wanted to show me something before we returned home. He drove us out to a huge bridge and told me to look out over the water. He looked happy but started saying somethings that I didn't register until I got older.

He started to tell me how much he loved me and how he would always protect me. I was looking at the water under the bridge, that's when I felt his strong hand grab me and touch me where I never thought I would be. The entire time he was telling me how I was and would always be his little girl.

As soon as I felt his hand, I froze and wanted to go home. I asked him to leave and he agreed. After that we left. We never went back to the bridge or to the park or even for ice cream. A couple weeks after the incident I asked him why he touched me and he told me it was our little secret. I asked him what he meant but he just ignored me and left. So I didn't ask again, I burried the memories and never touched the subject matter.

When I woke from this dream, I shot up in bed. I was the first one awake, soon followed Sapnap. When he saw me in my state, siting up in bed rubbing my head with sweat glistening my body, he was obviously concerned.

I quickly shook off his worries, stating that I was going to take a shower, which I didn't tell him would be cold as fuck in attempt to forget my dream. As I stepped under the spray of the water, I couldn't keep my mind off my dream.

I soon felt arms wrap around me and lips kiss at my neck. I smelt the aroma of Sapnap before I heard his deep morning voice that I lived for.

"Hey, y/n are you alright?" I bite the inside of my cheek as I smiled.

"Yeah, sorry, I didnt mean to wake you." I dryly laughed.

"Not at all baby, now it just means I get some time with you all to myself before doofuses 1 and 2 get in here." As if God meant it to be, as soon as he finishes his sentence, the shower curtain is pulled back revealing George and Dream standing there.

I couldn't hold back my laughter as I turned around to look at Sapnap. He was red in the face, but quickly moved over to allow them room to enter.

As the weeks went on, I would constantly have my memories in the back of my mind. It was like a cold sore that wouldn't go away, I thought I had gotten rid of it for good but I was wrong.

It unfortunately didn't go unnoticed amongst my boyfriends. I would see them giving me worried glances when they thought I couldn't see them, I knew they were concerned but part of me was so desperate to suppress my trauma, so I just brushed it off.

Everything seemed to be bubbling to the top, day by day, like boiling water in a pot, and eventually, as it always happens, that pot just overflows.

Tonight, I decided I was going to cook for my boyfriends. I need ingredients so I sent them to the store for the needed supplies while I prepped the meal, constantly texting George while they were gone, I assume because of their concern for me.

I was putting together everything I needed when I got a text from George saying they would be home in 10 minutes. I texted him back saying ok and we continued messing around via text until they were 3 minutes away.

At that point, tragedy struck. I had needed to put a pan on the stove and while doing so, I was texting George, so I wasn't paying much attention to the hot stove and accidently burnt my hand. I dropped my phone on the floor before I could finish my text and grasped my hand.

I felt shock fill my every being. I froze and didn't know what to do, before I knew it I was having a full on panic attack. I ran to my room, forgetting to turn the burner off or remove the pan from the stove. When I arrived at my room, I didn't realize I was having a panic attack until I sat down on my floor in the corner.

There I leaned on my burnt hand, getting a crisp stinging sensation throughout my body as I felt myself slipping into bad memories before I could stop them.

I remembered I was 11 years old at the time of this memory, it was the worst one I have. I was with my dad at the mall, simply walking down the isle looking at products. That's when I heard my dad come up behind me, I assumed he was just checking to make sure I didn't run away, but man did I want to after he found me.

He came up behind me and I felt a hand firmly grip my ass, giving it a squeeze, at the same time, I heard him say as if nothing had ever happened, "are you finding everything you want honey?"

I froze, I didn't know what to do and I was shocked. I looked at him and stuttered, "di-did y-you just-" he turned around to me and I've never been more scared.

"What was that?" He said in a sharp tone that told me not to repeat myself.

"Uh- I need to use the bathroom," I quickly ran to the bathroom, and as soon as I got through the doors, I felt tears streaming down my face. I stayed in that bathroom for what felt like years, having at the time what I didn't know was a panic attack. When I finally did come out of the bathroom later, my face was red and puffy, the only thing my dad did was yell at me for taking so long, saying he wanted to leave a long time ago. That was the last time I went anywhere with my dad alone.

I was in the corner of my room sobbing loudly, when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I gasped loudly and looked up to see George through my tears, I quickly wrapped my arms around his neck and cried into his shoulder.

"Y/n, what happened? We were so worried when you stopped texting us." I felt even worse for making them worry about me.

"I- I'm so-sorry, I didnt mea-mean to," I was cut off by sobs racking through my body, George noticed this and held me to his chest.

"Shh, calm down, its alright. I'm right here, take your time, you don't have to explain anything." I heard other people come into the room and soon felt two more pairs of arms wrap around me.

As I sobbed George's shoulder, the boys just held me and rubbed comforting hands across my back. It wasn't until I calmed down, finally stopped sobbing and pulled back from George, that I heard a gasp.

"Oh my god, y/n, what happened to your hand?" It was Dream who spoke and his voice was laced with concern.

"I, I accidentally burned my hand on, on the stove, I, oh God I didn't turn it off," before I could start panicking again, Sapnap spoke.

"I turned it off, you don't need to worry, I also found your phone with an unsent text to george." I hadn't realized Dream left until he had a first aid kit in front of me and took my hand into his.

"Y/n, what happened to make you so distraught?" I froze, I felt tears come back to my eyes at my memory and flinched as Dream started putting cooling gel on my hand.

All three boys were staring at me intently. I bit my lip as tears streamed down my cheeks.

"Before, I moved here, I had a rocky family history. I didn't have a good relationship with my dad and, um-" I trailed off as Dream started to wrap my hand.

"Its okay, y/n, you don't have to say anything else, just tell us when you're ready." I nodded and took a deep breath. I was terrified of them leaving me but my gut told me they wouldn't leave.

"My dad would, he wasn't a good dad. He had drinking problems and was always angry. My mom never did anything to stop him or help me, she thought it was more important to please him, my older brother learned to be like my dad because of this.

"This is why I ran from my home to here. I couldn't deal with my dad anymore. He would abuse me, mentally, physically, sexually-" at this Sapnap let out a gasp and I swear I wanted to die right on the spot. I stopped explaining and stared at him, I knew he didn't mean anything by it but it almost felt like betrayal. He wore a look of sorrow and regret, I knew he regretted gasping.

After sitting in silence for a while, Dream finally spoke up, "what do you mean- sexually?" I felt tears brim my eyes and quickly fall as I broke eye contact with Sapnap to look at the floor.

"He would touch me, and," I paused to bite my lip, "he would threaten me. He doesn't remember any of it because he was always drunk for the first 12 years of my life. When I got older and brought it up to him, he would say I was lying and I knew he didn't remember."

By the end of my explaining, I had tears everywhere and my hand trembled in Dreams, I heard George crying and looking up to see his red eyes.

"Y/n, i-im so sorry." He said as I reached my hand out to embrace him. He brought me into his chest and I let tears stream down my face as I leaned my head on his shoulder. I felt myself being lifted up, opening my eyes, I saw dDream carrying me.

He brought me over to the bed and sat me down. Everyone quickly got in with me and I was surrounded by warmth, Dream and George were on my sides and Sapnap was holding george. Dream then spoke.

"I'm so sorry that happened to you y/n, I can't change the past but I can promise you none of use will ever hurt you like that, and we will always protect you from anything we can." I leaned into his chest at these words.

"I love you guys so much" I whispered.

"We love you too y/n," I smiled slightly as I felt myself drift off to sleep, surrounded my the warmth of my lovers.

A/n: sorry for another quick note, but i have heavy anxiety posting this mainly bc this is the most real trauma I've ever explained, I went through everything in this story so please be kind.

[kageyuji]

❝what’s on your neck?❞

also known as “the team finds the hickeys you left on him”

-> warnings; implied making out, hickeys, sexual jokes

-> includes; bokuto, kuroo, tanaka, atsumu, and iwaizumi.

a/n; gender neutral, also it’s implied just making out but the characters are aged up to third year (18 years old)! and please remember to reblog <3

BOKUTO —

bokuto honestly forgot it was there, he’d remembered the makeout session you and he had

but somehow he had completely forgotten about the mark you’d left, sigh <//3

washio is Staring he is Looking he Knows what’s going on

akaashi and konoha exchange a look before finally akaashi speaks up

“what’s on your neck?” he doesn’t know why he even asked - he knows the answer

“hm?” bokuto asked, a totally innocent and confused expression on his face before realizing what they meant

konoha lightly tapped on his own neck, showing bokuto what they meant

SHIDJFFN HE GOES 😀

he’s blushing at first, but then quickly changes his expression into a smirk

he has like 27% shame, he’s a little nervous but then again he loves you and couldn’t care any less if they see

konoha never lets him hear the end of it, but it becomes helpful whenever he and Akaashi are trying to get him out of slumps

the team also probably teases you about it, but bokuto just pouts and pulls you closer

10/10 boyfriend, anyway-

he probably lets it happen again but its literally on accident <//3

like he just. cannot remember <///3

he spends hours on his hair in the morning i don’t know how he doesn’t see it

KUROO —

kuroo knew they were they he just didn’t really think anyone would notice

kenma did, but he didn’t really care

‘kuroo getting freaky sigh idk this animal crossing lookin real sexy tho’ or smth idk what goes on in kenma’s head

he doesn’t really show off his hickeys, he just more acts like they weren’t there? and if someone sees them, someone sees them

yaku was the first one besides kenma who saw, but he didn’t really say anything

he just kind of?? stared?? and grabbed kuroo by the shirt, pulled him down, and inspected the hickey

lev was the one to actually ask, poor baby didnt realize what it was, “what’s on your neck?”

kuroo very nonchalantly says, “oh, y/n gave me a hickey last night.”

BITCH??? THEY’RE SCREAMING WHY ARE YOU SO CALM???

yamamoto is going feral, he’s yelling, he’s gone absolutely batshit

whenever you walk in yamamoto does the whistle thing, you know what i mean

yaku gives you a whole speech <//3

kenma honestly couldn’t care any less, you can go and vibe w him <3

kuroo likes to tease you about it too, not as much as yamamoto, but teasing nonetheless

it’s just sweet little jokes though, teasing you but not too much

TANAKA —

well in all honesty it wasn’t like tanaka was actually trying to hide it

he knew it was there, he wanted to show it off, he had absolutely no shame about it

he walked into volleyball practice and the first thing people noticed was that he wasn’t wearing his usual jacket

instead, he was wearing a sweater

the next thing they noticed was the mark on the side of his neck, definitely put there by you on last night’s date

“tanaka?!?!” hinata was the first to say something, worried about what had happened to his elder, “what’s on your neck?”

then he realized what it was and his face went from 🤕 to 😟

nishinoya laughs, congratulating tanaka on “finally getting some action”

hes smirking and hyping himself up, but on the inside??

he’s just a blushy smiley boi 🥰😽

if the team mentions it to you you’re like 🧍 and suddenly tanaka turns from cocky to soft, peppering light kisses on your face and trying to convince you the team saw your marks on accident

the team absolutely teases him about how quickly his disposition changed

but once you’re out of the room, he’s flexing on them again BAJDBFNCM

ATSUMU —

little shit knew it was there, was trying to act like he didn’t, and was secretly trying to show it off WSHUXHDN

osamu deadass just looks at him like 😐 when he sees the hickey

“what’s on your neck, sumu?”

“what do you mean, samu?”

“😐😐🙃”

suna looks so annoyed sigh </3

they’re both very much done with atsumu’s bullshit

some of the other members are v concerned about it though BSJDJFNF

suna loves to tease you about it, he likes to see you go 😳 or 😼

it makes atsumu 10x more flirty i’m not even gonna lie, he’s riding the high

teases you all the time, even though?? he’s the one that should be being teased?? but go off ig sir <//3

dw though suna asks him all the time if he’s gotten anymore sigh

jokingly asks you for another one after realizing it’s getting him attention and then panics when you say ok LMAOWBHSHDFM

the fans are lowkey upset about it </3

IWAIZUMI —

he half forgot it was there, like he made an effort to cover it up but at some point during the day he let it show

oikawa was the one to point it out, very dramatically gasping and pointing it out like Iwa was a plague victim or smth

kunimi and kyotani couldn’t give a shit they just wanted to be anywhere else and away from the rest of the team, who were all screaming and yelling

“awww did iwa get his dick wet?” mattsun asks

“no, we were just making out,” Iwaizumi says sternly, but no one believes him 💀

mattsun and hanamaki keep making sex jokes, oikawa occasionally joining in

oikawa is mostly asking what happened, he’s wondering what happened and wanting to know all of the details

kindaichi is just like 🧍‍♂️

if you come in?? oikawa is not shutting up about it

mattsun and hanamaki are teasing you and iwa about it, sigh 💔

iwa just holds you and pretends to (well, tries to, it doesn’t really work) ignore them

he’s much more careful about consealing his hickeys now, he never wants to have to deal with Seijoh like that again, sigh

taglist is in an rb; send an ask to be added

[mythical-bookworm]

Thanks for the tag! I only joined to fandom in September, so I haven't been here or done anything for to long haha

Also @cheriboms thanks for the tag as well, I was already working on this reblog when you tagged me whoops.

1. Twice....I swear TV never shows it- *starts crying*

2. No, but I want some!

3. I am not a fan of 90 percent of soda, including Pepsi! Nor do I like sugar free stuff...

4. 'Cause I Might Not Make It Back

Look, guys. I love the amnesia trope. Young Emmett and Marty is amazing. This is two birds with one stone.

5. YOU WANT ME TO DECIDE?????

Okay, for humor reasons:

For content reasons:

For awesome looking reasons:

6. Yes sir! I have several incomplete/abandoned fanfics so the only one I've posted is Doctober 2023, but I learned so much from that!

As for art I have done several, but my favorite one has to be this:

7. Zero times 😎

8. Uhhh, see I never recognize actors so if I did I didn't know lol

9. Ok so we got a new car and we were testing it's Bluetooth and we used my playlist. Power of Love came on and Dad was like "Huey Lewis? Wow." And I was just like "I have some random things on here-" ;-;

10. Idk, I don't count that haha, but def a good amount. But I did just fall yesterday on top of my cousin hehe.

11. So I didn't GO see it cause it's across the country. However I found an uhm...another way to watch it.

Needless to say AAAAAAAA ITS AMAZING! All of Marty's little quirks are there and hilarious! Little details about his and Doc's friendship are so adorable! Everyone plays their character perfectly! Awesome songs! 10/10!

12. Funny thing. This question made me realize I have no clue how my parents met. I know they met in collage...and that's it. Whoops.

13. "Silence, Earthling!"

14. Run in the rain- Yes! Marching season overlaps monsoon season so once or twice we were forced to run with our instruments in a panic out of the rain (because there's lightning near and we need to get back inside)

Pull an all nighter- Literally pulled my first all nighter 2 days ago! Me and my cousins swore we wouldn't sleep. The youngest failed at 4 but me and the oldest made it past sunrise at 7 am. She then literally passed out and I got bored so I went to sleep for 3 hours.

Read Science Fiction- Yup!

Drive thru Burger King- Didn't do drive thru, but walked in. Fun story, me and my friends just came back from a comic-con so we all walked in full cosplay! We gave the employees a laugh, especially when the one dressed as Michel Myers came in first with no context haha.

15. I dunno! I have a lot of things ahead of me, but I'm trying not to stress too hard. I'm just going to go with the flow.

Not gonna tag anyone here as a lot have already done this and I'm doing this last minute. But if you want to do it, go right ahead!

BTTF Year-End Tag Game!

This year:

How many times would you guess you watched the first back to the future movie?

Did you get any sweet bttf merch? If so, what!

How many cans of Pepsi Free did you chug this year?

What was a favorite bttf fanfic you read this year?

A favorite bttf fanart you saw this year? (please give us a link, not a screencap/repost!)

Did you create any bttf fanart or fanfic? If you did, what one(s) are you proudest of?

How many times were you late for school this year?

Did you watch any other movies/tv shows with BTTF actors in them?

Was there a memorable moment you heard a Huey Lewis song this year?

How many times did you fall down this year?

Did you get to see BTTF: The Musical? What was your experience like!

How many times did your mom retell the story of how she and your father met?

If you could describe your year in a BTTF quote, which one would it be?

⚡️LIGHTNING ROUND⚡️ Did you get to: go on any trains, skate on a skateboard, ride a horse, drive a Delorean, run in the rain, go to a dance, hang up a clock, play the guitar, pull an all-nighter, read science fiction, or drive thru Burger King this year?

Your future is whatever you make it! So what are you going to make of this coming year?

I tag: @agentmcfly24601 @moonlightandstarshimmer @brinkle-brackle @bg-sparrow @bttf-dork @mrfutureboy @pepsifox88 @tsukinikawatteus @itsthemorph @synthsays and anyone who would like to answer these questions! as always, no pressure!

[yourdeepestfathoms]

Okay but imagine this: Sometime after Elizabeth died, Mrs. Afton tried divorcing William and getting custody of her remaining children but he managed to cut off all contact with her and the kids. Sad, yes, but then Michael reconnects with her, (and she already knows about what happened to the Crying Child bc of the news) and they team up to end William. Except Michael gets scooped. Then he finds out about Vanessa and things are good for a while but he gives Vanessa to his mom and dies not long after. But Vanessa gets raised by her amazing grandmother and eventually reunites with her dad through the pizzaplex. Idk if this works timeline wise but I wanted to share it.

(Mrs Afton would 100% beat the shit out of Glitchtrap if given the chance.)

WAIT I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH!!!

there’s so many ideas to come from it! like, what if Vanessa became a beta tester for Fazbear Entertainment to try and learn more about her dad? because Mrs. Afton probably told her about Michael, but purposely left out the darker details, so Ness did her own research.

this led me to an idea, which i wrote out here for your enjoyment:

A frantic knock at the front door pulled Mrs. Afton’s mind away from dinner. She lowered the heat on the stove then went to check who was there. She thought it might have just been a delivery person or maybe one of her neighbors asking for something, but instead, she saw that it was her granddaughter.

Vanessa had moved out around five months ago, and although she was struggling with her studies, mental health, and a job, she seemed to have gotten better after getting the opportunity to be a beta tester for an upcoming video game. Mrs. Afton hadn’t been told what the game was, but she didn’t really care as long as it was making her grandbaby happy. And it appeared to do just that, as she was constantly being told over the phone about Vanessa’s funny experiences. She wondered if this unexpected visit was to do just that.

Mrs. Afton opened her mouth to greet her granddaughter, but stopped herself when she really drank in the girl’s appearance: her hair was ragged and oily like it hadn’t been washed in awhile, her clothes were wrinkled and thrown on hastily, she wasn’t wearing any shoes. Mrs. Afton couldn’t see her face from the way Vanessa had her head bowed.

“Vanessa?” she said. “What’s wrong, honey? What are you doing here?”

Vanessa took deep, ragged breaths, then spoke in a croaking voice, “Gran, I think something is wrong.”

She then stumbled forward, and Mrs. Afton’s hand shot out to steady her. Vanessa staggered, leaving bloody footprints across the ground. She must have ran here, which completely tore up the skin on her feet.

“Vanessa, what is it? What’s wrong?” Mrs. Afton said, now concerned. She tried to steady Vanessa’s but only frame, and she felt the girl shaking terribly beneath her fingers. “Talk to me, sweetie. What happened? Did someone hurt you? Do I need to call 911?”

Vanessa shook her head, then let out a heartbreaking sob. “I-I just wanted to know more about my dad! I-I didn’t mean for this to happen! I didn’t know that the tapes were real— I thought the stuff that girl in the recordings was talking about were apart of the game, that HE was just a mechanic, but— but then— I didn’t want to release— I didn’t think— I thought— I never wanted—”

She then let out a gut-wrenching cry of pain, falling to her knees, clutching desperately at her head like it hurt. She clawed at her scalp as though she were trying to dig some parasite out of her brain, choking on sobs that spilled from her lips like blood.

For a moment, Mrs. Afton was shocked, and then she put her head back on her shoulders and knelt down before Vanessa. Vanessa was now completely consumed by a panic attack, stuttering on her breaths, unable to breathe as she tried to apologize for something and asked for help at the same time.

“I didn’t mean— help me— didn’t mean to— you have to help me— I’m so sorry!”

“Vanessa, baby, I need you to breathe,” Mrs. Afton said. “Try to follow me. Do you think you can do that?”

“No— no!” Vanessa wailed. She grabbed onto the sleeves of Mrs. Afton’s shirt and held on with a death grip. Her trembling worsened. “Gran, you have to help me! Please, please help me! Something— something bad happened! He’s— He’s inside of me! I can’t get Him out! Please, god, help me!”

“Vanessa, look at me.”

But when Mrs. Afton lifted Vanessa’s head herself, she realized exactly why her granddaughter hadn’t been looking at her.

Vanessa’s eyes were purple.

A shade of purple Mrs. Afton knew very, very well.

Something lit up in Vanessa’s eyes, like a light turning on, and they began to glow. A horrible smirk curled on her lips.

“Hello again, my love. Long time no see.”

Mrs. Afton squeezed Vanessa tightly, not daring to let go, even when she was staring directly at the thing that still haunted her dreams. She wasn’t going to give him granddaughter up, not to Him.

“You,” she hissed lowly.

“Yes,” He said. “It’s me. And how great it is to be back.”

Vanessa fell limp them, slumping in Mrs. Afton’s arms. She had been released from His grasp—for now.