❝So what, you're soul is just...dark like how you like the dark?❞ ❝Yeah basically.❞
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WEDNESDAY IS A SHOW FROM NETFLIX, I DO NOT OWN ANY CHARACTERS BUT Y/N!!<33
Y/n L/n, a talent girl with a playful attitude, she always does the best in everything...
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... Wednesday and Y/n both stood in front of the yard, but now it was touched with the burnt word, 'FIRE WILL RAIN'.
Xavier stood next to the girls, Y/n stood next to Wednesday while Wednesday crossed her arms.
"Last night in the crypt, you had another vision, didn't you?" Xavier asked Y/n, looking at her but she didn't turn back, only continue to stare at the words. "I didn't realize that I showed signs of us being back on speaking terms." She replied, coldly.
"I showed up to your surprise party. I figured that would have been a hint." He argued, "what did you see?" "Who said she was ready to speak with you?" Wednesday stepped in the conversation, Y/n didn't not make a response.
Xavier sighed, looking front again. "You both still think I'm the monster?" "Haven't ruled it out." Wednesday replied, knowing that she wouldn't make an answer.
"Yeah well, when you both change your mind and you want my help, you know where to find me." Xavier said, leaving.
Y/n huffed quietly after he left, looking at the words one last time. "Let's go, Wednesday."
...
You weren't always the biggest fan of birthdays, you may seem like one, because you are the type to make people think that your parents would throw you a big and happy surprise party as celebration, big and expensive gifts with your favourite flavour cake...
Too bad it has always been the opposite.
Your mother and father may love you, but birthday parties are not how they show you love. Each birthday is remarked as a nightmare.
The one most memorable was your 7th birthday, and that type of memorable wasn't a happy one.
You woke up and stepping out of your bed, doing your normal routine and not really thinking a thing about your birthday.
Your parents walked into the room with a smile, wicked one.
They would put you in a dark room, closing the door and you'd be leaved with a desk with a single light that's just above the desk.
Many histories of your ancestors, all laid out, and you won't be out until the day is over.
You never understood why your parents did that to you for each birthday until you reach the age of 13, you didn't find it as a birthday reward— more like a birthday torture.
You stood at the end of Eugene's bed as he laid there, still unconscious. You could never let the guilt of your shoulder knowing that his accident has at least some blood on your hands. You know it isn't your fault completely, but Eugene most definitely did not deserve this.
