#iconless.

                                           you  place  a  hand  on  your  friend’s  arm  ,    delicately  .    while  you  hated  the  fact  that  your  friend  seems  to  be  down  in  the  dumps  ,    you  also  can’t  help  but  be  excited  that  he’s  deciding  to  be  vulnerable  near  you  .    it  meant  that  you  were  a  trusted  friend  of  his  .    you  wouldn’t  simply  let  this  moment  pass  .

                                           this  is  everything  you’ve  ever  been  waiting  for  !    a  moment  to  show  how  truly  amazing  you  were  as  a  friend  ,     to  let  karkat  know  he  made  the  right  choice  to  accept  you  into  his  life  .    one  wrong  word  and  you  might  ruin  everything  ,    but  it  was  a  risk  you  were  willing  to  take  .

                                           besides  ,    you  had  a  lot  of  experience  in  the  area  of  forgetting  .

in pretty much all her verses, diana’s the person who needs to have hard evidence that the supernatural exists. in the mainverse, she comes around after she’s done a few hunts and she’s moved into the old family manor house. diana moved in shortly after her mother’s death, and she never had a very good relationship with her mother. she used to dismiss the sudden cold breezes she felt as just odd little drafts here and there. but as she was reading through some of her father’s old journals, diana made a snide comment about a cute loving comment he’d made in the margins about diana’s mother, she felt one of those “drafts” immediately after she spoke. it was as if her mother had tried smacking the back of her head from the spirit world.

so she hasn’t laid a hand on any of her parents personal documents like that since then. those are securely stored up in one of the attics unless someone else goes up there with her to analyze them.

He might have been saved by weird alchemical bullshit but that doesn't mean he has to like the stupid worm.

the lockers still ring with this afterimage of laughter that wasn't ever funny to begin with. the belly has already come and gone and the hallway keeps steady the way hallways are meant to, bodies flowing around the wreckage of lucas and will without ever stopping. junior high has never been a place to pause and assess the damage done to the "little guys".

will is still on the ground when lucas reaches him. not down down, nothing cinematic, but doubled with palms flat and knees scabbed. lucas's chest does that little thing it does in moments like these ( ... ) hitch sharp, memories loading. IT MIGHT BE A DIFFERENT HALLWAY, BUT THE MATH IS STILL THE SAME: he's been there and it's always dumb kids with dumber reasons and too much room to swing their dumb arms around. “  they're assholes. ” he says, one hand out like muscle memories and clock works and such. lucas takes will by the hand, as they don't have to negotiate this part, and he pulls will to his feet with a grunt. “  they treat everybody like that. ” a beat. then comes the correction because lucas isn't stupid and will isn't stupid. “  okay, no, they don't. but you don't have to let 'em ! ”

lucas reaches for will's backpack without much asking to, fixing the strap that's been twisted up and brushing off the dust. ( A SMALL THING, BUT IT MATTERS ALL THE SAME. ) he remembers a time, sixth grade, behind the gym and both of them bleeding a bit and laughing because they looked utterly ridiculous. he remembers dustin attempting to fix lucas's busted bookbag strap with electrical tape as though that would ever work. it hadn't.

THE CABIN CONSPIRES HERE IN THE WITHERED WOODS. it gathers its pine-sapped walls inward with the patience of something that has learned to wait out the storms. hawkins exists somewhere else, danger exists everywhere. jim hopper runs hot, he always has. arguments ignite him faster than any logic ever could, fear metabolizing into anger because at least anger moves and doesn't sit quietly and watch the people it loves march back toward the fire. eleven stands across from him, still as a held breath. ( SHE LOOKS CAPABLE, FOR ONE. ) sharpened by her skill and survival and forged by horrors that rewrote her nervous system. she also looks like someone who has already decided, for another.

“ don't call me stupid, jane. ” WORDS TOO HARD. they're already bruised around the edges and burning. “ i'm not being stupid. ” yes, he is. god, of course he is. “ you think i don't know the odds ? huh ? ” a breath, ragged and shallow and sharp. “ the math turns real ugly once you're in it. ”

canon-separated indie & end!verse 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 understood in supernatural, horror, & apocalyptic universes. imagined by the angel zachariah.

┏━━━ 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 ━━━┓

⌈@afteriimage | accepting⌋