I actually severely dislike how jonathan wasn't a part of the "fruity four" or at least the main group of older teens till the s5 (and it was only a teency tiny sliver still!!!!)
Like are you kidding me,, robin and him would get on so well!! They're both weird artsy indie kids who were outcasts and losers and i NEED to see this pairing more. And robin would be so down to try some weed (also willrobinjon hanging out yippee #goatedtrio)
Like if they were the party, Jonathan would be the "heart" (just like will is, but some ppl aren't ready for that convo yet). Like he n steve had beef, sure, but he's also the reason Steve got involved in the first place !!! He's the reason steve got infamous for his bat !! (It's actually Jonathans bat!!!)
I love jancy as much as the next stonathan, they are so cute and have insane chemistry and i adore their dynamic and relationship either way <3 and the concept of the stoncy love triangle being flipped to jon instead of nancy makes me giggle lmao. Like yes give me platonic stancy getting jealous over jonathans attention (no romantic stoncy tho I'm sorry 😖😖)
I haven't seen much eddithan content but I feel like their dynamic would be so interesting. Like they're both nerds, very specific and protective abt their music taste, and while I don't think they would be extremely buddy-buddy they would definitely respect each other for their passions and morals (and jon would appreciate the genuine care eddie has for dnd and how he makes will happy with it)
ARGYLE SHOULDVE STAYED. I SAID WHAT I SAID. ROBIN WOULDVE LOVED HIM OMFG. Prime s4 jargyle we miss you you will always be famous
I also am super interested in a jonathan/vickie dynamic ,, especially in an au where vick is s2 will's nurse. I just think they're super chill guys and have similar fashion tastes, and she would listen to him rant about the art of cinematography and him to her about the wonders of the endocrine system. She would also smack him whenever she catches him with weed lol
A/n: Soooo… this is another draft from my Wattpad acc that I wanted to post…yeah.. Yes, I know that stranger things isn’t popular anymore, but every time I read one I cringe so bad… Also, on wattpad it's originally an oc story, but I changed it to a y/n for tumblr!
Pairing: y/n Hargrove x Eden Bingham. || platonic!stranger things x male!y/n
Part 2.
The old television was still humming when the knock was heard on the front door. Y/n sat cross-legged on the worn out red carpet, eyes fixed on the cartoon that was currently playing. Beside him his younger twin, Billy, leaned against his shoulder, half-asleep. Their mother was in the kitchen, scrubbing the dishes that never seem to get clean.
He didn't hear the door open. Or didn't see the two men in suits entering his run down house. But he felt it. Like a cold shower washing over his back. One of them had a smile on his face, his voice too sweet. The other didn't say a word. He only looked at them with those wide, unnerving eyes that creeped everyone out.
The man kneeled in front of the two children, blocking the running television. Billy now awakened by his brother's tense body, looked up with his half opened eyes. He also tensed up upon seeing the two strangers in their living room. Yet, the smile of the man never fell. No, it grew, almost like the rays of the sun in the summer.
"Hello there you two, my name is doctor Martin Brenner. But my friends call me Martin. Now, could you tell me what your names are?" The younger boy wrapped one of his arm around his brother's arm, his face unsure. "My name is Billy." The words were barely heard by the man. His eyes glowing with glee.
"Nice to meet you Billy."
The words were creepy to hear from a stranger, y/n narrowed his eyes.
The doctor looked at the older one expecting to hear something from him. Yet, he was meet with silence. Billy looked at them nervously, his arm tightening around his brothers. "His name is y/n. He doesn't speak that much, much less to strangers."
Their mother answered, finally emerged from the kitchen. The man nodded with the unnerving smile. "That's understandable, I am also afraid of strangers." He told the two boys.
The other man suddenly spoke up, his voice neutral and cold. "Doctor Brenner, we must go. Time is running." The two boys were confused and afraid of what is going to happen. Y/n tensed up even more, carefully and slowly pushing Billy behind his own tiny body.
A sigh was heard from the white-haired man as he stood up from his position. His body turned around and he nodded toward the direction of the front door. There stood two men also in suits, but more muscular and with guns at their hips. They both moved in their direction, towering over them like mountains. Without hesitating they packed the two boys by their arms, ripping them apart.
Billy's screams overturned the tv's noises, his voice cracking. "Y/n! Y/n!" His hands scratching the arms that are holding him, not allowing him to get to his brother. The other boy also tried to get out of the hold. His movement uncontrollably, panicked and scared. His eyes searching for his brother.
Yet, the boy was held back in the living room while he was dragged out of the room, out of the house. Outside he saw his father standing there with another man. Neil, the man who somewhat raised him, had a suit in his hand with a smirk plastered on his face.
The boy was too scared to speak, afraid of what might happen of he does.
He didn't even cry when they shoved him in a van.
Not when they arrived at a strange place.
Not even when they took his things.
Not even when they tattooed his wrist and called him "Two".
They told him that this place was his new "home". But it felt like a school with no children. Too white. Too quiet. The walls were humming with electricity, and the light was too bright and fake. The steps of the workers in the hallways were loud, guardians complaining about lunch- it was too loud, but at the same time it was too quiet.
Y/n sat in his new room, on the white empty bed that he shoved into the corner. His hands covered his ears. There were too many voices. Like a dozen of people talked to him at the same time, too fast. But not one of them belonged to him. Yet, he could hear one voice that he recognizes. Somewhere, deep under every other voice, was Billy. The quiet hiccups of his brother.
That night he couldn't sleep. Not like he wanted to. Instead, he sat sit hours upon hours in the same position. Facing the door. It felt like days passed when the door shrieked open. But, it probably was only a few hours. Doctor Brenner, or Papa, as he told him to call him now, was in his room. The man sat on the edge of his new bed, the kind smile on his face. Something to comfort and reassure the boy.
"You are special, y/n. Different. Unique. And I am going to help you understand that, help you control it. There are powers inside of you, that you may not know of. So, that's why I need your trust and help to discover them."
The Hargrove boy didn't answer. He tilted his head, unsure. His eyes gazing into the ones of the elder man, like looking into his soul. His mind drifted to his brother. How heartbroken he must feel, now that he's gone. How they're not going to fight over silly things anymore, or how he couldn't protect him from their father.
He longed to go back to him. But he knew, that won't be possible. So, he could only nod to the request of the man before him. Only hoping to see his brother again one day. No matter what.
It has been a few days since he arrived at this place. Every day he had to go through numerous tests, mentally and physically. Blood was taken from him, sometimes so much that he's nearly fainting. Or sit in a complete white room with no windows or something. Just pure silence. For minutes or hours, it's always different.
There were also moments where some doctors gave him something, either to swallow or they gave it him by a syringe. After that he would have headache after headache. Stomachaches, nose bleeding, and other symptoms.
The room they brought him to was smaller than his own. No bed, no sink. Just a single metal chair in the center of a tiled floor, and a table with a television on it. The screen was off. The room was cold. Too cold for his comfort.
Dr. Owens was there. He smiled, kindly, like he didn't want to be the bad guy in the story. But it wasn't his smile y/n noticed, it was his mind. 'He's just a boy.' Y/n didn't like to read the mind of people, but, sometimes he just does it without being able to control it.
Papa stood behind the glass. Always watching, like a predator watching its prey.
They placed the EEG cap on y/n's head. Tiny suctioned wires linked him to machines that blinked with green light and soft beeps. The monitor to his left showed nothing but waves, dips and spikes that made no sense to him, but told them, the sdoctor and Papa, everything.
Dr. Owens crouched beside him. "Can you hear me, y/n?" The asked boy blinked. Slowly. His head tilted - birdlike, curious, unreadable.
"Let's try something simple." Owens pressed a button on a remote, and the old TV flickered on. Static fuzzed across the screen. "I want you to try and turn this off. With your mind."
Y/n turned his gaze to the screen. He didn't move. Didn't blink. He didn't even dare to breathe. The lights in the room flickered. The static snapped into black. Then the machine behind him screamed. Loud and uncontrollable.
Y/n flinched, blood sliding from his left nostril. Dr. Owens let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Good. That's good, y/n. That's very good." His voice didn't seem very convincing for y/n, but he didn't bother thinking about it.
The next test was different. Papa wasn't behind the glass this time. He was in the room with the young boy. A rat was placed in a cage in front of y/n. It had a twisted leg and wheezed painfully with each breath. The scientist beside Papa said something about "pushing the limits of healing touch."
Y/n didn't listen. He only reached forward, fingers trembling, and brushed the rat's paw with two fingertips. His own leg spasmed, cramping violently. The wheezing breath crawled into his lungs. He felt the rat's pain rush through him like a storm, yet he didn't stop. Not until the rat stood, healthy, and licked his fingers gratefully.
Y/n collapsed again. This time, he coughed blood onto the floor. The old man, called Papa, rushed to him. His face twisted in panic and worry. He held him in his arms like a real father might. Hands tight against his small shoulders. "You're doing so well, y/n. I'm proud of you. You're so very special."
But y/n wasn't listening anymore. He was somewhere else - with Billy.
The lights hummed softly, dimmer than usual. Evening hours in the lab meant silence - sterile and still. Most of the scientists were in their own rooms, or either went home, by now. The halls outside were empty, except for the occasional click of a guard's boots echoing down the hallways.
Y/n laid under his bed, legs stretched out, wrapped with gauze from ankle to knee. He wasn't in pain anymore, not exactly. But he didn't want to move. His back was pressed against the floor, arms loosely cradling a pillow he hadn't touched in weeks. His expression was blank, distant, eyes fixed on the door even though no one was there.
Not yet.
The soft beep of the security lock startled him more than he'd ever admit. His shoulders stiffened. The door opened. Slow painfully. Papa stepped inside. No clipboard. No guards. Just him. His eyes were tired.
He let the door slide closed behind him and stood for a moment, as if unsure whether to sit or speak. Y/n didn't move. Finally, Martin crossed the small space and sat on the bed, his legs touching the floor, aligned with the boys legs. The silence between them was like a third presence in the room. Familiar. Not hostile, but heavy.
"I should've known something was wrong sooner," Papa said quietly. His fingers placed in his place. The young one blinked slowly. His hands clenched slightly around the pillow. "I thought you were just tired," Martin went on, rubbing his palms together. "But I know better. You were hurt. You then always try to hide it."
Still, y/n said nothing. Martin glanced at him, his upper body leaning down to look at him. Not with his usual cold, clinical curiosity. Not like a scientist. Like a man who didn't know how to fix what he'd broken.
He leaned back up, resting his elbows on his knees. "You're not just another test, y/n. I hope you know that." A long pause. Then, softly and raw, a voice that hadn't been heard in days.
"...Then stop treating me like one."
Papa froze. His ear almost not picking it up. The voice was faint. Raspy from disuse. But unmistakably his.
Y/n didn't look at him, to leave the space under 5he bed. He kept staring at the door, like he wanted to leave but didn't know where he'd go. Martin leaned back slowly, breath caught in his chest. "You spoke," he murmured, almost to himself.
Y/n turned his head slightly, now looking up at the mattress from his place. For a moment, he looked like a boy again. Not a weapon. Not an experiment. Just a boy - scared, angry, exhausted.
"Papa..." he whispered again. His voice not being strong enough to speak louder. "...please promise to protect me." His voice cracked halfway through. The last word trembled.
Martin moved, slowly, kneeling beside the bed. He reached for y/n's hand, and, for once, Oriel didn't pull away. "I promise," Martin said, gripping his hand tightly. "No more experiments without me. No more pain without a reason. I swear to you, y/n. No one will hurt you again."
