#Next move is to just use L like the death note character | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

asdfghjklmals · 1 year ago

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FATED TO LOVE YOU✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff, angst. talks about death and graves. WORD COUNT: 7.9k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc, high school lovers.

SYNOPSIS: oc gojo girlfriend and satoru go back to her clan’s estate to meet her family. while they're there, they learn about a famous legend between their clans. AUTHOR'S NOTE: this fic follows 'meet the gojos' click here to read. omg, the two finally say the 'L' word to each other... get ready for more of big brother touya! and you already know who fuckin' stole the inverted spear of heaven in this au... because yes, i'm gonna write my own version of satoru getting his ass beat by toji next. artwork is from furuba anime. REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions instead, please do!

"are you bringing the gojo kid with you this time?" touya asked in a snide tone.

“first of all, he has a name, touya. it’s satoru.” you barked back at your brother over the phone. the man in question was laying his head in your lap, your fingers running through his soft white hair.

touya huffed, "is he going to use the front door this time?"

you glowered at satoru, who so innocently smiled at you after hearing touya's comment over the speaker. the first time you went back to osaka to visit your clan after moving into the dorms at jujutsu high was the first time you and satoru had been away from each other since you started 'spending more time together', for the lack of better words. satoru had teleported into your room and you didn't tell anyone in your clan that he was there. touya ended up walking in on you sneaking satoru food from the kitchen.

touya chuckled, "—i should've electrocuted his ass for sneaking into the estate. but since he's your only friend, i looked the other way.”

"whatever, touya. i have other friends besides satoru and their names are shoko, suguru, kento, and yu."

"well, we look forward to your visit. gramps is really excited to meet the gojo kid."

you corrected him again, "it's satoru—"

"right, satoru." touya corrected himself, "anyways, i'll talk to you later. sounds like we have a problem going on in the cursed tools storage room."

"wait wh—"

the line disconnected. you scoffed. how could touya just hang up on you like that? you looked down at the white haired sorcerer who's head was still laying in your lap, dozing off peacefully without a care in the world. he probably fell asleep when you started scratching his undercut. a relaxing, soothing gesture you always did for him so he could fall asleep in your arms... and in this case, in your lap.

later that day

"genkei is your grandpa. kanae is your grandma." satoru recited back confidently as he laid next to you on the picnic blanket in the middle of the jujutsu high sparring field.

you turned on your side, elbow propping you up, your palm supporting your head. you corrected him, "kanae is my mom. kanao is my grandma."

satoru face palmed his forehead in defeat, "i thought i was going to get it right this time."

you caressed his cheek with your palm, stroking gently on his cheekbone with your thumb, "it's okay, let's start over. what's my dad's name?"

"fujitaka." satoru answered confidently again.

you smiled at him and ruffled his hair. he was finally starting to remember the names of your family members.

"okay, let me try this again," satoru said as he took a deep breath, "genkei is your grandpa. fujitaka is your dad. kanao is your grandma. kanae is your mom. and touya is your brother."

"you got it!" you exclaimed, flinging your arms around him and kissing his cheek. you felt satoru's arms swing your body on top of his. you hugged him tightly. he started to smile proudly, seeing as you we're so excited about him getting all your family members' names correct.

you looked down at him, brushing your long hair behind your ear, "are you nervous?"

"who wouldn't be nervous? i'm meeting my girlfriend's family." satoru muttered back at you. the always-confident satoru gojo hated to admit his weaknesses, especially in front of you.

you booped his slender nose, "now you now know i felt when i met your family, mr. gojo."

"i don't know what you're talking about miss (l/n)." satoru feigned ignorance. he laughed at the thought of how much his family adored you, "—my family is obsessed with you."

you teased him, poking and pinching at his sides, "are they more obsessed with me than you are?"

"absolutely not!" satoru said in disbelief as he pushed your fingers away and clutched his chest dramatically. you rolled your eyes at the drama queen king named satoru gojo.

he wrapped his arms around you as you laid your head against his chest. you could feel his breath against the top of your head, fanning against your hair, his heart beating quickly.

satoru slyly shot his shot, "can i give you a lil' kiss so i can show you just how obsessed i am with you?"

"nice try." you laughed as you pushed yourself off from his chest and got up from the picnic blanket to start walking back to the dining hall. you had left satoru smiling like a fool behind you.

he got up to lean back on his elbows. he called out to you, "you're just gonna leave me hanging?"

"yup!" you yelled back at him, putting your hand up to wave goodbye. you didn't look back at him so that you could fight against the temptation of his beautiful blue eyes and that charming grin that always captivated you.

"so feisty." he chuckled, watching you walk away from him.

osaka, japan: at the (l/n) estate

your spirit birds few around in the sky above you and satoru. they were happy to be back home in the beautiful city of osaka. you led satoru through a cobblestone walkway where cherry blossom trees and white concrete walls lined the trail to the entrance of your clan’s estate. the entrance to your clan's estate was met with a red, arched hashi bridge.

"this is wayyy different from my place." satoru said in awe as he looked around at the surroundings, "there's a lot of red here at your clan's estate."

ever since you were young, you were told that red symbolized happiness and auspiciousness and that's why your clan's estate had so much red architecture. after crossing the hashi bridge, cobblestone steps led you and satoru to the front of the estate.

"miss (y/n)!" a familiar voice called out to greet you.

"arisa!" you waved back at the welcoming voice. arisa approached you and satoru, pointing at him and giving you the 'who is this?' look.

you made proper introductions, "arisa. this is my boyfriend—satoru gojo. satoru, this is arisa—she was my nanny growing up. she's the head of the housekeepers here at the estate."

satoru bowed politely, "nice to meet you. i'm satoru gojo of the gojo clan."

"it's nice to meet you too, satoru. let me escort you both to the tea room. i'm afraid it's been pure chaos at the estate today." arisa turned to you and frowned, "i'm sorry we weren't able to welcome you and satoru properly, miss (y/n)."

"does it have to do with the cursed tools storage room?" you asked arisa with concern, thinking about the converastion you had with touya yesterday.

she sighed and looked down at her feet, "i'm afraid so. master touya and grandmaster genkei have been investigating with the wind element users."

the wind element users were (l/n) clan members who were in charge of the estate's security and surveillance. you thought to yourself that it only made sense that touya and grandpa were working with them to find out how someone could get into your estate without being noticed. the security here was impeccable, even you had issues sneaking in and out growing up.

"is there anything we can do to help?" satoru asked, trying to be helpful. he noticed the way your eyebrows furrowed, the way your green eyes darkened to a brunswick green, and the way your lips pursed to the side in a half frown, half pout. that was the specific face you had when you were worried, and you had that face on right now.

arisa smiled at the both of you, "i believe master touya would rather have you and miss (y/n) enjoy your stay with no worries. you can leave the rest to us."

satoru nodded. you grabbed his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. you gave him a soft smile and squeezed his hand to show your appreciation, mouthing a quiet ‘thank you’ to him. he'd get brownie points with arisa for that one.

arisa led you and satoru to the tea room. your family used this room as a meeting room to receive guests, but mainly as a living room where everyone could sit down and enjoy tea and snacks. it was the most central room in the estate and it was one of your favorite rooms. during the days, you could open the ceiling up so that sunshine could flood the room. and during the nights, you could see the thousands of stars that filled the night sky.

"madam kanao should be here soon, i have to get back to prepare for dinner and to make sure the guest room is set up for mr. gojo." arisa reported back to you.

"where is grandma anyway?" you asked curiously.

"she's in a meeting with the elders at the moment. i believe master touya and grandmaster genkei should be there as well."

what in the world was happening that both of your grandparents and touya had to get involved? usually it was one or the other, but not both.

"there's fresh green tea in the pot, and i've left your favorite cookies on the tray." arisa said as she bowed. you watched as your old nanny scurried away, leaving you and satoru behind.

satoru tried to lighten the mood, nudging his elbow into your arm, "aren't you going to tell her that i'm sleeping in your room?"

"satoru—" you giggled, "i think this is serious business."

"sleeping accommodations is serious business too." he grinned back at you.

you and satoru sat down on the soft black couch. red throw pillows decorated the u-shaped sectional. satoru leaned forward and grabbed the porcelain teapot that was sitting on the stone coffee table. he poured you a cup of tea while he bit into a cookie. you sipped at your tea, feeling the warmth glide down your throat and into your tummy.

you watched satoru shove more cookies into his mouth, the sun's rays hitting the top of his head. his hair reflected so beautifully in the sun, it was almost a silver in this lighting. he always looked so radiant to you. you kissed the back of your teeth at how annoying it was that satoru looked good in any lighting and at any time of day. you gave yourself a self-satisfied smirk at the sight of the handsome sorcerer sitting next to you... and he was all yours.

moments later, you heard the sliding door to the tea room open. a woman with short grey hair, walked into the room. her eyes a blazing golden yellow. satoru watched as you stood up to bow to her. he followed your lead and got up from his seat to bow as well.

"hi grandma." you greeted the woman warmly. she reached for your arms, patting your shoulders and bringing you into her arms for a hug. she then looked over at satoru.

"is this who i think it is?" she asked. "is this the satoru gojo?"

"it is." you said with a proud smile. "grandma, meet my boyfriend."

"it's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am." satoru greeted your grandmother, bowing in her presence.

"ai! no bowing!" she smacked his shoulder playfully. satoru jumped back in surprise. she reminded him of his own grandmother in that instant. "please call me grandma kanao. the gojo clan and our clan are very good friends. your grandmother has told me a lot about you, satoru.”

"only good things i hope, grandma kanao." satoru chuckled as he emphasized addressing your grandmother. he scratched the back of his head nervously.

"oh, she told me over the phone yesterday all about how you stole my granddaughter's heart." grandma kanao teased the white-haired sorcerer. "are you two comfortable? is the tea still warm? did arisa give you enough cookies?"

you sighed at your grandma's overbearingness and sat back down on the couch. "everything is fine, grandma. what’s going on? where’s grandpa and touya?"

you watched as your grandmother's eyebrows furrowed. she looked concerned. "(y/n). the inverted spear of heaven has been stolen."

the inverted spear of what? you didn't think that you knew of that cursed object... but why did it sound so familiar?

"what does that cursed object do, grandma?"

"the inverted spear of heaven has the power to completely nullify a cursed technique. it can stop any technique that it comes in contact with."

your jaw dropped in surprise. you didn’t know that your clan had a cursed tool so powerful. that meant that this cursed tool could cut through your protective water barrier technique... that also meant that it could completely stop satoru's limitless technique and bypass infinity.

"why do we have a cursed tool like that?" you asked, "shouldn't that be locked away someplace safe?"

"that's the thing, my child. it was locked away someplace safe. the gojo clan entrusted that tool to us 400 years ago."

you had so many questions. why would the gojo clan give such a powerful cursed tool to your clan? especially one that could kill someone from their clan.

"satoru's sobo wanted me to tell you the legend of the six eyes and water technique user." grandma kanao said softly, “the legend also has to do with the inverted spear of heaven.”

satoru was ready to hear the story. he leaned back in his seat and crossed his legs, "finally! everyone keeps talking about this legend!"

"it's not known as public knowledge to the jujutsu society," grandma kanao chuckled, "—but between the gojo clan and the (l/n) clan, it's very important."

you put your hand on top of satoru's. he looked over at you and shot you a grin. "okay, grandma kanao! let’s hear it."

grandma kanao took a deep breath and began the story.

"400 years ago, the gojo clan's six eyes user at the time, fell in love with our clan's last water user. believe it or not, the six eyes user was a woman and the water user was a man, the opposite of you and satoru." she giggled at the realization. “isn’t it such a coincidence?”

"wait. you said they were in love?" you asked, eyes wide with surprise. you had never heard this story before, even when you found out that you were the water user. satoru cocked his head to the side, now he was very intrigued by this story.

"yes. they were. they were set to be married." grandma kanao continued, "they were the reason that the gojo clan and our clan have such a strong alliance. the reason that we have the inverted spear of heaven is because the six eyes gave our water user the spear for safekeeping. she knew that this spear could nullify the gojo clan's limitless and infinity, so consider it an act of trust between the two lovers."

"so my clan gave your clan the spear knowing that your clan would keep it safe from any enemies of the gojo clan..." satoru said out loud, putting 2+2 together.

you looked at him, "that must mean that they meant a lot to each other... to trust each other with a cursed tool like that."

the act of giving your lover the cursed tool that could ultimately lead to your death? you wondered if satoru would ask you to do the same for him if he was in the previous six eyes' shoes.

"since the spear is now missing... we've notified the gojo clan." grandma kanao sighed, "it's dangerous for you and satoru if we do not know the whereabouts of the cursed tool."

"that's probably why my clan elders wanted me to have my infinity on 24/7 now. they wanted me to work on reversed cursed techniques too..." satoru realized. if a cursed tool like that was stolen, that meant that he would always need to be on guard. he would really have to get his shit together now.

"until we find the spear, the both of you will just have to stay alert." grandma kanao warned the both of you.

"do we know who stole it?" you asked.

grandma kanao frowned and shook her head, "all we know is that it's a man with dark hair, possibly from the zen’nin clan."

your grandma knew better than to point fingers without proof. she ended the conversation about who they thought the culprit was. the three of you sat there in silence sipping tea and eating cookies.

"grandma, what else do you know about this couple?" you asked curiously, trying to cut through the awkwardness.

you wanted to know more about this love story. what were the chances that you, the water user of the (l/n) clan, would fall in love with satoru, the six eyes user of the gojo clan, in this lifetime?

grandma kanao pondered, trying to recall any stories of the legendary couple, "i believe your grandfather said that our last water user died trying to protect the six eyes."

you felt gutted hearing that. you wished that they got a happily ever after... but that meant that you wouldn't have met satoru if they did. was death going to be the same fate for you and satoru too? you felt his hands squeeze yours, trying to comfort you and shoo away any negative thoughts in your mind.

"i think i know what that fight was." satoru added to the conversation, "my grandparents told me that the six eyes user and a ten shadows technique user fought to their deaths for the aristocracy. the kamo clan and the zen'nin clan must have worked together on it if a (l/n) clan member died."

satoru remembered the story you told him the night he took you to shibuya for your birthday. the kamo clan was your clan's enemy due to the fact that your last water user could control blood. (read 'love at first fight' here)

"that's exactly right, satoru." grandma kanao said. she sighed, "it's almost too good to be true, seeing you and my granddaughter together. your sensei, masamichi yaga, mentioned that you two could be reincarnations of them. if you believe in reincarnation that is.”

reincarnation. the rebirth of a soul inside a new body. could all of this be true? so many thoughts were racing inside your head about it. you felt sick to your stomach.

"well, that should be enough story telling for now." grandma kanao said as she stood up from her spot on the couch. "i'm sure touya and your grandfather want to see you and satoru."

you and satoru watched as your grandmother turned to walk out of the tea room. you both stood up and looked at each other. would this change the way you and satoru viewed each other and your relationship? satoru didn’t look like he was affected by the information, but you, you looked like you were starting to question your own existence.

as you and satoru stepped into the hallway, two sets of eyes peer over at you. one golden-yellow, and one ruby-red.

"grandpa!" you called out, smiling. you ran into your grandpa's arms, hugging him. you dragged him back to meet satoru, "grandpa, this is my boyfriend, satoru gojo."

you turned to satoru, "satoru, this is my grandpa and legendary fire user, genkei (l/n)."

"it's an honor to meet you!" satoru said out loud, quickly bowing to your grandfather. he turned to touya, "it's nice to see you again as well, touya-san."

you had never heard satoru add honorifics to anyone's name in the couple of months you’ve known the man. he was really trying to put in an effort to impress your family. you coughed, trying to hide your laugh.

"the gojo clan's treasure." grandpa genkei laughed, "let me take a look at you, son!" he put his hands on satoru's shoulders, patting them firmly.

“call me grandpa or grandpa genkei. i’m sure my wife has already told you to call her grandma as well.” your grandfather added. “—how are you ojii and sobo? and your parents?”

“uhhh—”

"awww, gramps, leave the kid alone." touya interrupted your grandfather bombarding satoru with questions, "how about you and (y/n) catch up while i have a chat with the gojo kid."

you shot a stone cold glare at your bother, "his name is satoru."

"right, right. satoru." touya rolled his eyes at you, "hey, satoru! how about we head to the sparring dojo?"

you could see signs of nervousness in satoru's body language. whenever he was nervous, his blue eyes leered and his shoulders tensed. you walked up to him and whispered in his ear, "you’ll be fine, babe."

satoru gulped as you pat his chest, you looked over at your brother, "don't scare my boyfriend off, please."

"wouldn't dream of it." touya shot back with a grin, "i wanna see what the kid can do."

you and your grandparents watched as touya led satoru to the sparring dojo. satoru looked back at you with worried eyes. you blew him a kiss and waved goodbye as they turned down the hallway.

the sparring dojo

behind him, touya shut the door to the dojo. he wiped the dust off his hands and stretched his arms and legs. satoru gulped, he was so nervous right now. the last time he was this nervous was when he took you to shibuya for the first time (he liked to consider that night your first date).

when touya turned to face him, satoru straightened his posture and turned on his infinity, ready to get zapped by touya’s cursed technique at any second.

touya (l/n). the king of close combat. that was his nickname when he was a student at jujutsu high. because touya wielded an electric cursed technique, his close combat was lethal. he could paralyze people and curses when fighting with his cursed technique.

satoru thought that he himself was pretty damn skilled at close combat, but was he on par to be able to spar with your brother?

satoru started to apologize for his last visit, “first off—i’d like to say sor—”

“no need to apologize about sneaking into the estate from your last visit. (y/n) brought you back here for a reason. it's obvious my little sister likes you.” touya brushed satoru off, he was going to ask the million dollar question instead, “satoru gojo! answer this. what do you even like about my sister?”

satoru stood in the middle of the dojo, dumbfounded that touya wasn’t going to fight him to test his strength or his jujutsu. instead, he was going to attack him with questions about his relationship with you. touya had already found out satoru gojo's weakness. it was anything pertaining to you.

"what could the six eyes from the gojo clan like about my stubborn, feisty little sister?" touya curiously asked.

“well,” satoru gulped nervously, “i like her personality.”

satoru shot himself in the foot for the most basic answer he just gave your brother. that was definitely not going to win him over.

“boringggg.” touya sang, “come on, kid. you’re not convincing me that you actually like her. i know for a fact her personality is not that great. i’m her brother, i can say that.”

satoru felt like his chest was going to explode. he couldn’t breathe normally or focus because he was so nervous. he stammered when he tried to answer again, “i—i like how caring she is towards others. i even like how feisty she gets when she’s mad. i like her eyes, how they change to different shades of green depending on her mood. i like her laugh because it’s… cute.”

touya nodded his head and folded his arms. he liked what he heard so far, “—is that all?”

“no, not at all!” satoru shouted as he stepped foward to face your older brother with the little confidence he had left, “—i like that she doesn’t care about how i’m supposed to be the strongest or that i'm the first in 400 years to have the six eyes. she's the only person that has ever looked past all my flaws… and there are a lot of them. she's special to me. and i want to be with her for as long as she'll let me."

"satoru," touya started to say, "you know... me and my sister lost our parents at a young age. i grew up taking care of her. there's nothing in this world that i wouldn't do for my sister. and as her older brother, i'm supposed to protect her—"

satoru interrupted touya, "—i told her i was going to protect her and i swore to my clan elders that i would too. you don't have to worry about that."

satoru thought about his promise he made, how he would protect you from the kamo clan or whatever danger may come your way. he hoped that you knew he would do anything in his power to keep you safe from any harm. he would risk his life for you... and that's what touya wanted to know.

“do you really like her that much?” touya asked satoru. now this was definitely a trick question. touya was waiting for the right answer. there was one more thing he wanted to hear.

satoru scoffed and looked touya straight in his golden-yellow snake-like eyes, “i don’t just like her. i love her.”

“love is a strong word for an 18 year old.” touya grinned, “—if you love her as much as you say you do, you better promise me and my grandparents that you’ll take care of her too.”

“i’d even lay down a binding vow.” satoru said with no fear. he knew that binding vows made with others have a higher penalty than self-made binding vows.

“—and get shot down by the binding vow’s penalty as soon as you make her cry?” touya laughed out loud. “i like you, satoru gojo. i hope you stick around. i’d like to consider you as my brother someday.”

satoru blinked twice, confused on what just happened here, “wait—does this mean—”

“you have my approval.” touya said, “i actually never disapproved of you, kid. i’m just playing ‘big brother’ here. i knew from the moment i saw you and my sister interact for the first time at the jujutsu high that you were gonna be someone special in her life… whether it be her lover or her friend.”

“thank you…” satoru sighed in relief. “i swear i love (y/n). i’d do anything for her.”

“i believe you, kid.” touya said as he attempted to pat satoru’s back, unable to actually pat his back. "—you have your infinity on."

"well… yeah. there's no way in hell i was going to get electrocuted by you." satoru laughed.

“let me rough you up a bit, or my sister is going to say something.” touya laughed. his loud laugh always boomed throughout the estate. your brother gave off hardcore golden retriever energy.

satoru continued to laugh alongside him, bro-hugging touya, “anything but the face. she’ll be devastated if you get the face.”

later that night

satoru noticed at dinner that you were unusually quiet around your family. he watched as you pushed around the food on your plate with your chopsticks, not making eye contact with your family members, and not engaging in any conversation. you barely even looked at him.

he whispered in your ear. "hey. are you okay?"

"i'm fine." you lied, "i'm just tired."

satoru gojo swore he had a phd in (y/n)ology. he could read you like a book. he knew what ticked you off and what made you squeal with delight. but tonight, he wasn't so sure what was bothering you.

you listened as touya and your grandparents got to know satoru on a deeper level. they asked him about his family and what it was like growing up in the gojo clan, what he liked and didn't like. it was like satoru was already a part of the family.

you were happy that satoru finally got the chance to meet your grandparents and touya, but deep down, something felt off. after dinner, you asked touya to entertain satoru so that you could take a shower. and after your shower, you snuck off to your favorite place in the estate, the red pagoda in the lily pad pond.

as a child, you would come to this very pagoda to escape the hellish and tiring training you went through as the clan's water user. you always felt at peace here, that you could gather your thoughts without any interruption. the pagoda had an amazing view of the estate's pond that was filled with lily pads. it wasn't as big as the gojo clan's koi pond, but it was grand enough for you and your clan. (read 'meet the gojos' here)

you started to question if the feelings that you felt for satoru were actually real or if it was because of all this reincarnation bullshit. was it just a coincidence that you and satoru ended up finding each other in this lifetime? were you actually meant to be with him?

you swore that what you felt for him was genuine. you didn’t think you could care about someone so much that it hurt you so deeply inside. that the mere thought of losing them would be so crippling.

the voice that always made your ears perk and your heart race called out to you. "—so this is where you go to run away from your problems."

satoru sat down next to you, locking his arms around his knees. he leaned his head over to watch you. you stared out into the pond, soft yellow lights reflected off the surface of the water from the estate's open windows. crickets chirped in the background, a crisp breeze filled the air around you.

"how did you find me?"

"your brother told me that you like to come here whenever you have a lot on your mind. how about a penny for your thoughts?"

you changed the subject, “are you going to tell me what you and touya talked about in the sparring dojo?”

satoru looked out at the distance in front of him and smirked, “nope. it’s a secret between just us men.”

“does it have to do with me?”

“—i can’t say a word.”

“does it have to do with how much you like me?”

“—not saying anything, sweetheart.”

it was time for a cheap shot, “well… i guess that means no more kisses for satoru ‘i-keep-secrets-from-my-girlfriend’ gojo.”

satoru sat there and stared at you in disbelief, “—that is so unfair.” 'what kind of girlfriend uses no kisses as a threat?' he thought to himself.

you got up from your seat. your hair flowing behind you as a conniving grin spread across your face. he was such a sucker for you.

3... 2... 1...

“wait!” satoru called out to you, grabbing your hand. “i guess i can tell you this much… it wasn’t about how much i like you.”

you turned around to look back at satoru, his face was as red as a tomato.

“—it was about how much i love you.” satoru admitted, “i love you, (y/n).”

this was the first time satoru had ever told you that he loved you.

“i love you too, satoru...”

you felt satoru's arms pull you into his strong embrace. tears filling your eyes. you bit at your bottom lip, swallowing the discomfort in your throat. he let go of you and positioned you in front of him, staring down at you with worried blue eyes. he cupped your cheeks with his hands.

"why are you cry—"

"satoru," you interrupted him, "do you think that we're only together because we're reincarnations of our ancestors from 400 years ago? do you think they did some weird-binding-vow-lifelong-love-spell before they died?"

"is it so wrong if they did?" satoru asked as he brushed your tears away with his thumb, "—it's kinda romantic if you ask me."

"i just want to be 100% sure that my feelings for you are really mine."

"just know that no one gets to tell me what to do or who to love." satoru said, "—so no weird-binding-vow-lifelong-love-spell is going to change my mind on how i feel about you."

you sniffled, thinking of all the negative outcomes and possibilities, "what if it's actually a hidden curse or something...?"

he stared at you for a moment before he started to speak, "grams tells me that there's no curse more twisted than love... and if it's a curse, then i'm pretty sure i'm fated to love you."

and quite frankly, satoru didn’t give a damn if loving you in this lifetime was a curse. he’d live as the cursed one if that was the case.

satoru leaned down to capture your lips with a kiss. you wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling his soft, strawberry flavored lips on yours.

he asked confidently and just a bit smugly as if he already knew the answer to the question he was about to ask, "so what do you want to do now that you know all of this information? you gonna leave me, princess? we gonna break up?"

“satoru—” you muffled his name as he kept kissing you, “there’s one thing i know for sure, and it’s that i want to be with you. even if it’s some weird binding vow.”

satoru stopped kissing you to look back down at you. he chuckled while repeating your words, “even if it's some weird binding vow, huh?”

you looked up at him, running your fingers up his undercut. he melted at the action, sighing in your grasp.

“how much do you think those two loved each other?” you asked satoru. “you think they loved each other more than we do?”

“hmmm, maybe. but there’s no way the previous six eyes had more game than me.” satoru joked.

“you have got to get better jokes, babe.” you giggled as satoru squeezed your hips, pulling you closer to him. he returned to peppering kisses on your cheek, slowly moving to the corner of your lips.

“you think—” he muffled your words by kissing you, on purpose this time, “you think the previous six eyes was the one who made the move?”

“babe.” satoru pleaded, “please stop talking and just kiss me back.”

the next morning

after the conversation you had with satoru last night at the pagoda, you had never felt more sure that your feelings for this white haired, blue eyed, special-grade idiot was real. as you laid next to satoru, you fit perfectly in his arms, just like two puzzle pieces.

"god, i love this custom futon." satoru groaned as he stretched his arms and legs, attempting to wake his body up on this fine morning.

"i thought you slept in my dorm room because you wanted to cuddle with me, not sleep on my custom futon." you teased, pulling the blanket to your side of the bed.

satoru chuckled, rubbing the sleepiness away from his eyes. he fired back at you, "cuddling you is just a plus. the king size futon is totally why i'm there."

one thing that you loved about satoru was that the best parts of him complimented the best parts of you. you made each other better in every way. you were excited for the future together now that you've cleared the air about your true and honest feelings for satoru. your next focus was to help your clan and the gojo clan find the inverted spear of heaven.

you turned back to face him, nuzzling your face in his bare chest. he smelled just like his eucalyptus body wash.

"you know what's nice? no one barging into your room randomly. i swear my grams was soooo not discrete when you visited." satoru said as he rolled his eyes.

"touya already checked on us four times. you were sleeping."

"four?!" satoru choked out, "you weren't laying on top of me or anything were you?"

the last thing he wanted touya to think was that he was getting frisky with his little sister in her childhood bedroom under his roof.

"satoru!" you laughed, "and so what if we were cuddling?"

"i'm trying to make it out of your clan's estate without getting zapped by your brother... don't you know he's called the king of close combat? he can paralyze people!"

you drew circles on his chest with your fingertips, "i guess you better work on that infinity being on 24/7 then."

"sure, babe… anyways what's the agenda today?" satoru asked, putting his arms behind his head. he watched you roll out of the bed to change into your clothes for the day. you took his bag of toiletries out of his suitcase to throw at him.

you smiled softly at him, "get ready to have breakfast cause after that, you’re going to meet my parents."

at the (l/n) clan's family grave

ever since you were little, you and touya made it a routine to visit your parents' graves regularly. touya would tell you stories about your parents so you would never forget them. they had passed away when you were so young, so he wanted to make sure that their memories lived on with you.

since satoru would never be able to meet them physically, you thought this would be the best way to ‘introduce’ him to your parents.

in the japanese tradition, a visit to one’s grave starts by cleaning the grave of your loved one, presenting your offerings, and then praying and lighting incense. you and satoru washed your hands to ‘purify’ them and filled a water pail to head to the area where your parents were laid to rest.

"mom, dad." you started to say as you approached the two headstones, "this is my boyfriend, satoru."

satoru grinned at you and then looked towards your parents' headstones, "mr. (l/n), mrs. (l/n). i'm satoru gojo... and i wanted to tell you both that i love your daughter."

your turned to stare at satoru. you didn't know he was going to say that, nor did you ask him to say that. you were surprised to say the least.

he continued on, "i made a promise to your daughter and myself, and to my clan... and now i'm promising your clan that i will protect her. so this is my promise to you both as well."

you felt tears forming in your eyes. what kind of boyfriend would come to your parents' grave with you to have a conversation with your parents like this? how were you so lucky to have a thoughtful boyfriend like satoru?

you quickly brushed your tears away. "satoru. you didn't have to do that. you're so cheesy."

"that's so rude to say in front of your parents, (y/n)." satoru gasped, teasing you. "why not tell your parents the promise i made to everyone...?"

"i mean… sure... but you didn't have to say you loved me as an introduction for yourself." you giggled. “you can just say, ‘hi, i’m satoru gojo from the gojo clan.’”

satoru smiled at you, "i want everyone to know that i love you though."

he took the pail from your hand, gently pouring water over the two headstones. after cleaning the headstones, you and satoru placed a plate of oranges and apples in front of them. you lit a stick of incense for the both of you, silently bowing and praying. once finished, you stuck the incense stick into the holder.

it was as if time stood still while you and satoru sat around your parents grave to just talk. none of the conversations were about anything important, it was just simple talk about sweet nothings. you were just grateful he wasn’t weirded out by spending time here the way you and touya did when you were younger.

satoru even talked to your parents as if they were still alive and well. he asked your mother, ‘did you know your daughter has the world’s worst attitude in the mornings? god forbid she doesn’t get a full 8 hours of sleep.’ after that, he even said to your father, ‘sir, i wish you were still here so i could show you my techniques. i heard yours were pretty cool too.’

while you watched satoru talk to your parents’ headstones, you wished so badly that your parents could’ve met him so they can see why you loved him so much. your mother would’ve have loved him, probably more than she loved you. and your father? he would’ve loved to have such a strong sorcerer be his daughter’s boyfriend… he’d probably consider satoru as a second son.

satoru could see and feel how your heart ached at any mention of your parents, and he wanted you to know that your family was important to him too. he was going to try his best to win the approval of your entire family. he didn’t have to try hard though, your family wasn’t that hard to please. they just wanted you to be happy.

"ready to go?" you asked satoru after noticing the sun setting. "i'm sure touya is looking for us. it’s almost dinner time."

"sure." satoru smiled back at you, grabbing your hand.

“bye mom and dad.” you waved.

“bye mom and dad!” satoru said with a grin.

you looked up at him, “mom and dad, huh? you guys are already that close?”

“yeah, actually. your mom says she sees me like a son now. and your dad said that he approves of me as a son in law.” satoru said as-a-matter-of-factly, knowing damn well he made that up.

you giggled at his ridiculous statement and clung to his arm. you walked back to the estate more in love with satoru than you were when you first arrived here.

********************************************

once you and satoru were out of sight, two feet stepped out from behind the shadows of your parents' headstones and smiled.

"doesn't she look happy with the gojo kid, mom and dad? he’ll take care of her, don’t you two worry." touya whispered to your parents' as he watched you and satoru walk back to the estate together. he zapped a stick of incense with his cursed technique and quietly bowed and prayed before heading back to the estate as well.

after dinner

"remember how you showed me your family portraits when i went with you to meet your grandparents?" you asked satoru. "want to see ours?"

"yeah. let's see who you resemble the most." satoru wondered as you led him down the hallway where the family portraits were hung.

"is that you?" satoru asked incredulously. he pointed at a little girl with long black hair in pigtails, precious sparkling green eyes smiling back at him. "you looked like a little brat, babe."

"you found me." you laughed and reluctantly admitted, "—and i was a brat growing up."

you hoped that if you ever had kids in the future, they would not inherit the attitude you had as a child. your grandma always said that the way you acted as a child would come back to spite you in the form of your own offspring.

satoru continued to look around in the picture. he could spot your grandparents and touya towards the center. he assumed the woman who was holding you was your mom, kanae.

"my mom had long dark blue hair and the most beautiful green eyes." you started to say, "everyone else usually gets the yellow eyes or red eyes in the family since grandma and grandpa have them, but i was lucky to get her green eyes."

the man standing next to your mother was obviously your father, fujitaka. your father had black hair, and the same leering yellow eyes as touya. touya resembled your father so much growing up that he always heard that he was his father's mini-me.

"well..." satoru sighed as you took his hand to lead him back to the tea room, "i guess i have to go back to your parents and thank them for creating the most perfect human being for me."

you laughed and gently hit his chest with the back of your palm, "you're too much, babe."

satoru continued to spout his nonsense sarcastically. "it was like you were put on this earth for me. it's fate. god's will. the divine decree. destiny some may say."

you rolled your eyes at him. sometimes, satoru could be so cheesy and would say the most ridiculous things. you wondered where your smart-alecky boyfriend was. however, you didn't hate when satoru tried to be romantic, so you figured you'd just listen to his ridiculous comments for now. you held his hand, bringing it towards your lips to plant soft kisses on his palm.

“even if it was fate or destiny.... whatever you want to call it. i’d choose you again in every lifetime, satoru. you’re like... my soulmate.”

“soulmate, huh? look who's being 'too much' now.” satoru smiled cheekily, “—you’re not guaranteed to meet your soulmate in every lifetime though.”

“consider me a lucky girl then.”

“nah, i think i’m the lucky one...” satoru mumbled as he leaned in for a kiss.

EXTRA:

as soon as you got back to the jujutsu high dorms, you asked satoru the same question he asked you when you met his family.

"so..." you started to inquire, "what did you think about my family?"

"your grandma reminds me of my grams. and your grandpa's cursed technique was pretty cool." satoru added. "i met your instructors and trainers. no wonder you hated learning jujutsu. they were intense."

satoru only met your grandparents, touya, and a handful of family members and housekeepers during this visit. a majority of your family members were on vacation or not at the estate during the time of your visit. you were relieved it was a lax visit because you knew your cousins would have been all over satoru. the next holiday back to the estate would be unavoidable though.

satoru said with a sigh, "your brother still scares the shit outta me."

"but he approves of you!" you clung to his uniform sleeve. "are you going to tell me what you and touya talked about in the sparring dojo?"

"i already told you. it was that i loved you." satoru mumbled, wanting to change the subject immediately. he looked like the world’s biggest simp for you in the sparring dojo that day and there was no way he could tell you all the things he said without turning as red as a stop sign.

you huffed and pouted, "babe, you were in there for a good 45 minutes though. how about a kiss for some intel?”

“i don’t kiss and tell.” satoru said with a grin.

you realized that satoru really wasn't going to tell you what touya and him talked about, so you let it slide for now.

and over a decade later, you still won't know what satoru and touya talked about in the sparring dojo.

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

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shalotttower · 11 months ago

Text

The Unknown Variable

Title: The Unknown Variable Fandom: Death Note Summary: Special was never your brand. Now the weight of it is simply too heavy. Word count: 2600+ Characters: L Lawliet x Reader (female) Notes: yandere L, kidnapping, L and Reader were together in Wammy's House, Reader is tricky: there's some sort of imposter syndrome, but it's not too pronounced, L is a little bit of a dick, explicit language, triggering words.

You came to Wammy's House the same year as him.

In your simple dress, with scratched shoes and hair cut short by your previous caretakers, no one paid you much attention. Just another orphan for Watari's collection, just another face to pass through the halls, that's what you were. Densely packed with brightness - bright children with bright futures - you got lost among their splendor very quickly. Intelligences and minds were relative, and it didn't take long to understand that there existed more than one tier in the hierarchy of extraordinary.

You weren't exceptional.

You weren't dim.

Not slow, not dense, merely the kind of gifted that fit into Wammy's definition of "gifted" without exceeding it. The kind that was too smart to go to a public school, but unable to stand out in this environment.

It was fine. You didn't come there to be special.

You came because you had nowhere else to go and Wammy's House gave you a bed, a roof over your head, food on the table. It was as close to a home that you'd ever get and certainly better than your time in foster care. You could ask for toys, books, whatever caught your fancy, and count on it to be provided without much question.

What you couldn't ask for was affection. Not from Watari nor his staff nor the other children, and you think...you think all of you shared that same affliction to a various extent - a kind of general numbness, a disconnect between where a heart was beating and a brain was processing.

In this, you suppose, L fit right in, while failing miserably at everything else.

You found him odd, with his hunched back and wide eyes and messy hair. He wasn't rude or cruel but seemed to lack the basic social graces and had this air of superiority around himself, like he knew he was smarter, quicker and stronger than everyone else and didn't bother to pretend otherwise.

He played alone and hoarded toys that he liked. He answered questions before they were fully asked. You watched L solve puzzles in minutes when it took older children at least fifteen, twenty, sometimes thirty. Maths, sciences, linguistics, history, law - he seemed to sample them all, eventually moving onto the next. Slept irregular hours, and the blue glow of his computer screen was an ever present feature every time you got up at night to use the restroom and passed by his room.

L was brilliant and strange, and looked down on you since the very first moment.

You didn't like him much.

You watched him grow into his gangly limbs, become more lanky and hunch a few inches more, a quick-draw intellect with a tendency to chew at his thumbnail whenever he concentrated, stare too much and pick people apart as easily as he solved problems.

He got under your skin more than once, and seemed to have a vendetta of sorts or at least you thought so, with the way he liked to study your words or personality. He never outright called you stupid, but you once found him flipping through your journal and when you confronted him about it-

"You write simple."

"What?"

L turned another page, then tapped his nail against the margin. "Simple," he repeated, looking at you. "Short sentences, simple punctuation. Not bad necessarily..." He closed the journal with a soft thump. "But simplistic. You should-"

"I'm not vying for the Booker Prize," you said and took your journal back, he didn't resist. "It's just a diary, meant for me and me only. It doesn't need to be complicated, and you had no right to stick your nose in."

You were never meant to be special, but what you undeniably had was the lack of restraint in expressing your exact opinions.

"You left it on your desk," L said, unfazed. "You shouldn't leave personal belongings lying around if you don't want others to touch them. And the cipher key isn't difficult to figure out."

"It's still not an invitation," you told him, pointedly hiding the notebook behind your back.

It was the last time you spoke with L before leaving Wammy's House and entering adulthood; and you hardly considered it a great loss. You learned to make better ciphers and keep your things close without letting them out of sight, along with how to buy groceries, open a bank account, cook your own meals, do your own laundry and many other mundane skills which an orphanage resident had no real reason to practice.

A chance or probability of ever running into him again could be easily calculated as zero. Special was never your brand, no genius lurked beneath the surface, no brilliance that could solve mysteries in less than twenty four hours. You were observant, definitely, and had your own strengths, but on the scale of extraordinary you'd rank yourself somewhere in the middle, a notch above average and below exceptional.

That's why waking up years later in an unfamiliar bedroom, surrounded by deceptively familiar walls, furniture and bookshelves, with absolutely no memory of how you got there, made no sense.

In fact, it should have ended with boarding a plane, you were heading home after a lengthy business trip. That's what you clearly remembered - getting into the car that had arrived to pick you up from the hotel. Fastening the seat belt, and then nothing. The timeline smudged into one single faded splotch.

You reached for your phone only to find it missing. Bag, wallet, documents - everything was gone.

That...that didn't look good.

You carefully scanned the room. It held an uncanny resemblance to your own, with the same layout and furniture. Same closet, same bed. A twin to the quilt thrown over you. No windows. Your suitcase lay in the corner, and provided no insight as to how and why you'd been brought here. Everything was a replica, an almost-perfect duplicate, but somehow not.

It smelled wrong. Pleasant yet not the way it should; cleaner, less dusty, and warmer.

You mind went through the loops of what it could be: ransom (why? you had a humble income and no significant family), organ harvesting (too nice of a bedroom for such purposes), trafficking (again: too nice, no traffickers were known to transport people into neat and homey places), a bizarre accident (hardly, the door and the rest of the interior pointed towards careful planning).

Nothing seemed plausible, and that was the most unsettling part, the obscure, unknown variable which didn't let you make a prediction. The room...someone tailored it to you, your interests, that much you could say with 100% certainty.

But who and why - that remained a question.

The door opened.

"You," the word hung, suspended.

"You're awake." His posture hasn't changed, if anything it was worse than you remembered, hunched shoulders and slouching spine, hands buried deep into the pockets of his baggy jeans. Still slender but not as gangly anymore, he entered the room and closed the door behind him. "How are you feeling?"

The dark circles under his eyes were bigger and even more pronounced, like diluted ink spilled on a napkin.

You didn't answer.

"What am I doing here?" you asked instead and pushed yourself upright. The blanket fell from your lap, pooling down on the floor.

L's expression was familiar, one he used to wear whenever he was thinking. He rubbed his lower lip but otherwise chose to stay silent.

"Well? Are you going to explain or keep standing there?" You crossed your arms and glared at him, hiding the trembling of your fingers. You both did this sometimes back at Wammy's House, tried to over-stare each other in a contest, stubborn to a fault and unwilling to yield first. It always surprized you that he indulged in something so childish and silly.

Of all people you expected to see him least; the last conversation between you happened over six years ago.

L won the game again and you looked away.

"A series of events occurred, and I felt it to be beneficial for your well-being that you stay here," he replied after a moment, choosing each word like it was an item on a menu and not an explanation of your abduction. "You will find everything provided and within reach," L looked around the room, lingering on the bookshelves and desk. "If you prove cooperative."

You felt you eyebrows slowly rising to your hairline. "Excuse me?"

"Cooperative. The faster-"

"I'm not deaf."

His mouth twitched, like he disapproved of your manners - you ignored it. Took a deep breath and rubbed your temples, counted to ten, then exhaled through your nose.

"I'm leaving. Where's my phone?"

He didn't attempt to stop you, not when you slipped into your shoes, not when you headed for the door, not when your fingertips reached for the handle. It turned just fine, and for a second you were almost convinced that he decided to prank you (a very weird and fucked up prank, you had to admit).

What was on the other side looked like a regular apartment with an open floorplan, spacious and absolutely ordinary, except for the blackout curtains covering the windows, and the main door - thick, metal, - more suited for a vault, rather than a house. The locks appeared equally sophisticated. You swallowed, and a voice that always told you when something was not quite right, came out full force.

"Where's my phone," you repeated, voice quiet and dull, more of a statement than a question.

L remained silent, with that same blank stare which you used to despise as a child and a slight curve of his mouth. You know the answer, it said, now ask the right questions.

It was quiet, except for the ticking of the clock and the low hum of an AC unit.

A faint noise to your left caught your attention, the hairs on the back of your neck rose. In the middle of the carefully decorated living room, between a couch and a coffee table, you covered your mouth.

There were more wrinkles around Watari's eyes than you remembered and he looked older, hair gone to silver. Dressed in a black suit and a simple apron, it was him without any doubt or confusion. A chopping board and several ingredients covered the marble counter in a clear pattern of a soon to be cooked meal, carrots and mushrooms, bell peppers, fresh parsley. Celery. A single potato.

A needle with a plastic cap near the fruit bowl.

'I'm leaving.'

The words died on your tongue.

"No," you heard L's voice reach you from the layers of white noise which buzzed inside your head, "you're not. And I would prefer to not use force to persuade you."

There was a strange sort of finality in his tone, calm and absolute, and Watari, the man who raised all of you at Wammy's, the man who provided a roof, and books, and games, and never denied a request, simply nodded, then went on cutting carrots. As if this, as if your entire situation, was a mere triviality, not worth addressing.

Maybe it was a bad dream, you wondered. You fell asleep in the car and hallucinated an elaborate scenario, a noir plot plucked straight out of a movie.

It wasn't a movie.

They weren't joking.

In those few seconds while your mind processed everything in a scattered swirl of jumbled-up conclusions, you had a thought. A vase on your left looked sturdy enough. Two, three strides, grab it and swing - Watari was old. L was slim and thin.

"As you are now, I estimate 46% possibility of you injuring yourself and 8.3 % of you injuring me should you attempt to physically overpower me," L sounded close enough but you didn't turn around to check. "Along with 57% probability of Watari having to sedate you."

How did you go from nothing out of the ordinary to this, you often wondered later. In the apartment that looked normal, but was as far away from it as possible, with the orphanage prodigy whose brilliance used to frighten you back in your childhood, and the elderly man who used to serve tea and biscuits during breaks.

You looked down and found your fingers shaking. The odds were...against you.

"You're sick," you said finally. "Both of you." The irony of it was not lost, no. Of all people, someone to commit a crime of this audacity were the two individuals supposed to represent the pinnacle of legal justice.

Watari continued chopping vegetables. L made a step forward - you felt it more than saw - and it urged you to back away and out of his immediate reach, until you hit the wall. He studied your every move, steady, patient, not bothered by your accusation nor offended.

"No," you whispered and raised one trembling hand, as though it could offer you any kind of protection. Your throat felt too tight, like something was wrapped around it, pressing harder with each breath. "You fucking stay where you are."

L stopped moving.

"I can assure you," he said after a moment. "You're perfectly safe here. I have no intention of harming you, unless you prove unwilling to cooperate."

Your eyes darted towards Watari again. L's gaze followed.

"He won't hurt you either."

That didn't make you feel much better. Your phone was gone. Your documents - also missing. If you managed somehow to pass that door, you had no idea where you'd end up. It could be a regular apartment complex, or it could be the middle of nowhere. "Why am I here?" You asked again, but the question held different tone this time with the underlying implication.

L tucked his hands back inside his pockets. "I enjoy your company. My efficiency increases when I think about you and decreases by 17.3% when you're not in my vicinity."

Company. You blinked and rubbed your face, fingertips cold and clammy. "We talked four times when we were kids and none of those were pleasant experiences."

"Six," he corrected, "we talked six times, and our conversations, while short, were often...entertaining. Stimulating. You possess a particular way of thinking which I find intriguing. You're not intimidated by my intellect. You are not intimidated by many things."

"I don't want to talk with you," you said flatly. "You kidnapped me. I want my documents, I want my phone, I want to get the fuck out of this-" you inhaled slowly and focused, felt your heartbeat steadying just enough to not run across the room, yelling and screaming bloody murder, "whatever this is."

"Well, I do."

Despite the fact that you've just woke up, you felt tired. Arguing with him as a child was like running against a brick wall. Talking to him as an adult proved similar - exhausting and fruitless, nothing you said ever made the smallest dent in whatever notions L had in his head, not back then and definitely not now.

A laugh bubbled in your throat, and it probably seemed more hysterical than intended. You pushed away from the wall. "You need professional help, and I need to sleep. Don't," you pointed a finger in his direction when he twitched forward. "Don't come near me."

You headed for what was supposed to be your bedroom, or rather a cell - matters of perspective. The absurdity of the situation didn't lessen when the door closed behind, but at least huddled up in a ball beneath the quilt, with the muffled sounds from the outside you could rest your head and think clearly again.

Tomorrow you will assess everything from the new angle and then...

Then everything will be fine.

Everything will be normal.

Okay.

#death note #l lawliet #yandere l lawliet #yandere #yandere l lawliet x reader #yandere l x reader #shalott fanfiction

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persephone11110 · 5 months ago

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rain is a good thing

Jake‘Hangman’Seresin x Reader

Chapter 1 : Astraphobia

warnings: astraphobia(means fear of storms), mentions of storms—raining, mentions of bleeding—blood,protective jake seresin, YOUR HONOR THEY STILL LOVE EACHOTHER

Chapter Summary: Two things Y/n hates—one how loud the thunder and rain is outside and two how much even as an ex Jake Seresin still knows her like the back of his hand.

author note: I realized that chpt1 sucked really bad and so I decided to rewrite chpt 1 AND IM SO SO SORRY TO ANYONE WHO READ IT!!!, I just re-read it and its not good at all— i wrote like it was 2+1 and not a chapter. Instead meeting Jake in chpt 2 like I originally planned hes gonna be here chpt1— erase CHPT1; A Trip Down Memory out of your mind PLZ

WC: 1K

Previous | Next

Series Masterlist

—

Jaw clenched, you stood at your bedroom window looking out the windows staring at how angry the clouds looked— you were glued to the spot as the EAS that was broadcasted more than couple minutes ago made the agonizing thoughts you had about outside worse “Remember Y/n its normal for it to rain during the summer because its so hot”. Dr. Michaels voice was in the back of your mind reminding you to stop spiraling.

Glancing back at the clouds from the rain you finally decided to walk away. Lying flat on your back, you attempted to close your eyes, If he was here he would lightly chastise you—for laying on the floor. That one day your going to get stuck on the floor, stuck in a human shaped star position. Reading did always take your mind off the real world, you enjoyed putting yourself in character.

You groaned as you got up from the floor your back loudly cracking, unkindly reminding you aren’t in your a teen anymore. Did you fall asleep while reading because the book was perfectly laid on your stomach while, the cup of juice you brought from the kitchen was knocked over. “Thats just great Y/n now you actually have leave the comfort of your bedroom”. You murmured to yourself— aggravated with how clumsy you were.

Sighing, you rubbed at your temples as you looked at the red mess behind you— would it be bad if you left the sticky mess right where it was?

Ants, those tiny ass insects scared you. How could something so small cause so much destruction?

As both sides of your brain fought with you smartly decided to go to your kitchen to grab napkins.

The sound of a lighting strike outside your apartment caught you by surprise making you drop the cup filled with on the kitchen floor. You hate when this happens-your vision was already becoming blurry and hand started to slowly tremble, you swallowed hard listening to the sounds of rain drops smacking into the window.

“Just get up, and focus on something else”a thought enters your mind. Using the strength you have , you decide to try and pick up the glass shards around you, not l thinking of the prickly feeling in your fingers, or the smell of blood coming from your hands. Just focus on something else Y/n you repeated to yourself.

Should’ve stayed somewhere safe Y/n— your back was doing that weird tingly thing again. It felt like something crawling under your skin.

Maybe Dr.Michaels was still in her office?

Your eyelids heavy with tears, you grab your phone out of your pocket. You drag your trembling fingers over the screen typing in Dr. Michaels emergency number-listening to the phone dial out, you lift the phone to hear waiting for her calm voice to be on the other side.

“I can’t answer your call right now, however please leave your name, number and message— I’ll get back to you as soon as I can”.

“Please help me, I’m so scared.. I’m so scared”. A sob escaped from your mouth, your entire body rattling with fear.

Thunder rumbled through the sky, the rain sounded like bullets hitting the window and you were pretty sure you getting closer and closer to death.

You didn’t attempt to move again not knowing if you got up would your feet fail you. The thunder got worse and the sounds of bullets turned into a heavy pour, you leaned your body aganist your kitchen counter-using it as a bed and a chair.

The sound you heard next wasn’t thunder getting louder or a tree branch breaking because of the wind. At first you ignored it, hoping if you didn’t acknowledge it wasn’t real.

But apart of you wandered what was making the awful loud sound. What is your imagination?, were you having a nightmare?

The sound was getting louder and louder, you finally realized somebody was at your door-knocking.

What crazy ass person would risk their life?, who wants to get sick in the middle of summer?

It be rude to let the person stand outside even longer, making yourself get up you fall into the counter while getting up.

“Sweetheart”.

You fell into his soaking body not caring about the wetness. A sound of relief falls out of your mouth, you eyes squeezed shut not wanting to see the angry clouds.

“C’mon darlin don’t want you getting sick”. Jake tightly wrapped his hands around you-gently pushing you back inside. “Shh, follow my breathing Y/n”. Somehow your sitting on the couch and Jake sitting on the table infront of you.

“J-Jake”, you whimpered. “Scared”.

“I know sweetheart don’t listen to outside just listen to my voice”. Jake grabs your hand and pulls it to his heart. “Your alive darlin, just your mind playin tricks on you again”.

Finally your breathing back normal, your mind kind of still foggy.“Jake why are you here w-with me?”.

“You called me darlin”. Jake rubbed at your knuckles,“As soon as I heard your voicemail I left Javys and drove like a bat out of hell”.

You leaned your head aganist Jakes bare chest, unable to make eye contact with him—blushing with embarrassment you’ve could swore the number was Dr. Michaels.

“You called me Y/n, you called and I answered as simple as that”. Jake hums a tune from a Nina Simone song that you can’t remember right now, “I got you darlin”.

Taglist :)

@chocolatefartstrawberry , @buckysteveloki-me , @dontletthemtakeyoualive, @kellyls04

#top gun #top gun maverick #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader

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gwaaaaar · 10 months ago

Text

breaking my silence...

whoever told me the second half of death note was trash... YOURE WRONG YOURE WRONG YOURE WRONGGGGGG 🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣 MELLO AND NEAR ARE WORTHY SUCCESSORS TO L YOURE JUST A STAN!!!!

near... sweet jesus baby they didnt deserve you !!! I was so pleasantly surprised to see how distinct he was despite people calling him "white haired L". LIKE hes a lot more cautious than L but isn't above being a sarcastic little shit and actively causing problems... i read a fan translation and he uses a lot of cuss words to refer to certain people he dislikes. I dont know if thats in the official translation as well but i do like the visual of this 7 yo saying "asshole" and "dickhead". I know hes 17-18 and this is average teenage behavior but gah hes so cute and moe and make little "vrooooom" noises when playing with his toys... 🥺 cant help but stan. Hes in his zone unbothered...

AND THE FACT HE CHALLENGES LIGHT IN FRONT OF OTHER PEOPLE SO BLATANTLY... no mind games no time for light to make his next move just fuck it we ball. Also very fond of the scene where he drops hundred dollar bills off the SPK building. He's unpredictable just like Mello is but in a different way and its fascinating i love this guy. Also enjoy the fact that his flavor of justice is that he doesnt really have one hes just doing his job. The verbal beatdown he does at the end about how lights just a crazy serial killer... GET HIS ASS NEAR !!! Hes not pretentious and its just... its just good you know? L wasn't very pretentious but he does call himself justice sometimes and stuff along the like(?) Near drops all pretense... cant help but stan

Also really fond that he actually likes mello its just mello doesnt like him... I know canon never explicitly states their relationship with each other, like if its a brotherly relationship or not (altho isnt there some cain and abel parallels??? Not sure). But i really do see a siblinglike relationship between the two. Canon doesnt really put any angst on their relationship bc near doesnt care lolol, but the two do remind me of certain siblings that have a strained relationship because of the pressure put on one of them (or on both. Again fuck wammys house all my homies hate wammys AND WATARI!!! ME WHEN I GET YOU!!!) I really would love to see the two interact... and maybe just be happy by each other/pl. Because god it really terrible to see how much mello hates near and its not even nears fault :,). AND FUCK THE CHOCOLATE BAR HE EATS AT THE END TO HONOR MELLO???? STOPPPP IM GONNA CRY... near the man that you are... they dont deserve you baby...

And smello... mello mello mello... I've heard more positive things about him compared to near bc hes more "interesting" and i can see why people take that angle BUT. God they still undersell him so much??? I feel like hes one of the few characters to have a goal besides catching Kira (or not getting caught) because of his inferiority complex. I do not mean to undersell any of the other characters when i say this because theyre all very complex! They all have their driving goals and the like. Its just that i argue that Mello's is more persistent and that it is not centered around the conflict but rather himself. Even if he caught Kira perhaps he would still never be happy with himself because Near is always "going to be better" because of the shit he went through in wammys. Theres a whole discussion to be had abt the ethics of wammys house... but ill save that for another post wwww.

Mello is also someone that isnt pretentious about his idea of justice bc hes a fucking criminal. (BTW i love the two opposing sides of the successors... one that tries falling within the law but still doesnt give a shit and the other that doesnt give any shits at all and eventually helps the law.) And its so... I LOVE YOU RUTHLESS CHARACTERS I LOVE YOU CHARACTERS THAT STOP AT NOTHING TO GET WHAT THEY WANT.

And the thing is ... Mello does have his own sense of justice because its not as if he sacrifices innocent bystanders to get what he wants he just does what is necessary. LIKE ofc its fucked up that he kidnapped sayu (and traumatized her...), takada (and the stripping... but at least she got a blanket:,) honestly tho id blame that on the misogyny of the authors) and the director of the police im not about to be a mello apologist (yes i am/j). But a. He probably knew no one was going to get hurt in the first place because hes just that damn confident. b. His remorse for matt and soichiros deaths show that he doesnt intend on sacrificing anyone and when things go astray it saddens him a little. And c. THE FACT HE PROBABLY KNEW HE WAS GONNA DIE AND STILL SACRIFICED HIMSELF TO HELP NEAR... near would "win" but mello prioritized putting kira behind bars and while i cant guess his motive, from my end it does seem like in extension he prioritized doing the right thing, which would be to sacrifice his life and pride to help near get the final piece to catch mikami... wow what a man im so deathly ill

After typing all this, i must say... is L really as complex as years of DN fans have said?? I think im about to get crucified for this opinion, but legitimately is he??? I think he is complex most certainly just... maybe not as much as others have said... i might just be missing details about his past + lore from external media so maybe thats why i have this opinion. But i feel like the successors *are* toe to toe with him despite their split screen time... idk tho :3 this is just my thoughts meow

#death note #death note mello #death note near #l lawliet #Mello #Near #mihael keehl #nate river #Feel free to beat me with hammers in the comments meow

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gh0stbeeee · 1 year ago

Note

tell us more about the death note/h2o crossover please 👀

Warning, tiny bit of dark content near the end. But like, it's death note sooo...

Characters:

Rikki = Light

Emma = L

Cleo = Misa

Lewis = Matsuda

Miriam = Kiyomi

Zane = Mikami

Kim = Sayu

Elliot = Near, Mello, Matt

Miss Chatham = Ryuk

Now, despite character assignments I'm still giving cannon siblings. So Sayu is still Light's little sister, the wammy boys are L's etc. The roles are based off of personality, so not everything fits and I'll move things around. Like yeah, Ryuk is Chatham because him as a weird old ocean man with ominous advice is hysterical.

Plot:

Starts of pretty similar, will diverge.

Light and Misa go to high school at the Gold Coast, Australia. Light's mother is a marine biologist that works at a nearby institute, while his father still works in Japan as the chief of the NPA.

Misa lives there with her parents, and is close with Light. Ie, she follows him around and he puts up with her. She is also good friends with Matsuda, who studies with her occasionally.

L is the new transfer kid, who Light doesn't like because he keeps on challenging his intellect. Plus he's weird.

So of course Light gets put in a group biology project with him, along with Misa.

While brainstorming where to research, L asks about Mako Island. Light says the Island and the waters around it are too dangerous. L (in essence) calls him chicken.

That weekend, the two, and an unwilling Misa, take Sachiko's boat out to Mako. And the gas tank leaks. So, they row the short rest of the way to Mako.

Of course, there's no phone service, and no one will look for them until after the weekend. Light and L bicker on the beach until Misa makes them go setup camp on the shore, then look for higher ground to try and get reception.

While looking, Misa falls in a hole. L goes in to help her. Light falls into trying to lend them the rope. Stuck down there, they look for an exit, and find the moon pool.

After oooing and aweing, they figure out the pool is connected to the ocean due to tidal rings. They plan to swim out after L scopes it out. Problem, Misa can't swim.

But after encouraging words and promises to help her, they all get in the pool as the full moon rises over the mouth of the volcano.

Weird bubbles happen.

But they ignore it, swimming out to the ocean and back to their camp near shore, getting dry and going to sleep.

The next morning they go into the shallow water to look for samples for their project since they have nothing else to do.

And they all turn into fish.

They freak, Misa screams, it's a mess. They all crawl onto shore to try and figure this out, and as soon as they're dry, they turn back to normal.

Misa refuses to touch water again. L needs time to process what just happened. But Light, the little getter he is, goes for a swim.

And he loves it, it's the most awesome swimming experience he's ever had. Way better than swimming as a clumsy human. He convinces L, then Misa, and after they all start to get used to their tails, they're having the time of their lives.

Now, they can push the boat back to the mainland, and say that "luckily" the gas tank leaked right as they were getting back.

They get what they need for the project, and like the dorky 16 year olds they are, swear a pact to never tell anyone about this.

(Touta finds out a week later when Misa tried to go to a pool party.)

Miscellaneous/Plot Points

Misa shows up at school the following day in total beach girl aesthetic, including beach curls, shell/pearl jewelry, flowy clothes and wedges. L nearly smacks her upside the head. Light does.

They turn the moon pool into their own little hangout! Misa gets them all to buy fairy lights, tapestries, blankets, pillows, and even shelves for all of their stuff, along with a crap ton of batteries for the lights. It turns out surprisingly cozy.

They all hang out a lot for obvious reasons, which puts a chip in Kiyomi and Teru's shoulder. They've tried to be close to Light to no avail, but suddenly this L guy, and Misa who is now more than tolerated, are suddenly thick as thieves with him! They get bitchy with the two, especially L.

Misa made them all fishing net pouch-belts to put cool things they find during swims in.

The pool starts to look like a little treasure trove, since there is a LOT of cool stuff to find and the bottom of the ocean.

With the sheer amount of pearls and mother of pearl they find, Light starts to make accessories out of it. Misa is overjoyed and accepts the items with joy. L likes to watch Light tinker. Light doesn't mind him there.

The three, especially Light develop a superiority complex in regards to other people. It's based in insecurity about not being human anymore, but they do feel superior because of their powers.

L goes research nuts. A large portion of the moon pool wall looks like a mermaid conspiracy board, he wants to find any possible explanation. Light helps where he can, impressed with L's brain.

L was the first to find his powers, when he froze Kiyomi and Mikami to a wet sidewalk. Next was Light, after he boiled his annoying history teachers coffee all over his desk. Misa found her power a few days after, accidentally flooding her bathroom when she tried to bath.

The first full moon was... not good. Ryuk randomly showed up at the beach to warn Light, who discarded his words as meaningless blabbering. The three of them went moon crazy, and swam in the ocean until Misa got caught in an illegal fishing boat net.

The next morning, the boat was found sunken and destroyed, the charred and frozen bodies of the small were found with it.

None of them swam for three days.

But uh, yeah! They're a little pod, very protective of eachother :)

Misa likes to find starfish that match their hair colours and stick them on the boys' hair. They don't come off :)

It's the wammy boys that notice something up (they including Sayu are 10 btw) and they end up finding some of L's research. Watari just said it was probably a hobby when they showed him, but when they go to Sayu and they find a type of shell that is only found at diving depth in Light's room, they begin to think their theory of mermaids is warranted.

The trio is annoyed by the snoopyness, and now that they were technically murderers there was another level of urgency to keep this secret.

Unfortunately, mermaid hunters and scientists do start showing up, as "sitings" have increased due to underwater cameras.

Stakes rise and the three begin to ponder the benefits of staying. And the risks of going.

They start sabotaging. Finding the groups, their plans and evidence under the guise of mermaid enthusiasts. It works mostly, except for one group that keeps coming back. L finds himself impressed with how easily Light can manipulate them.

The three start going farther away during swims, able to go to places like Fiji or the Mediterranean in under an hour due to their extraordinary tails.

There is relationship drama. Misa is realizing her crush on Light is going no where, and he and L have started to become closer. Eventually they get over it, but lawlight is end game.

Kiyomi's jealousy deflates over time, and she begins to appreciate Misa without Light clouding her mind ;)

That's all for now I think! BTW, blue tails for mermen isn't on a whim, it's cannon in the h2o sequel Mako mermaids :)

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tojiscrack · 5 months ago

Note

is it weird that i wish y/n existed in the actual jjk verse. like her personality fits so well with almost every single character, and the chemistry between megumi and y/n is THE BEST ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

her personality is so real and unlike any other reader i’ve come across in other reader x [insert character] fics. the chemistry between her and other characters doesn’t feel forced, if you understand what i mean? i thoroughly enjoy reading EVERY scene because of that! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

you said to look out for foreshadowing which is what i have been trying to do but perhaps i’m being a little silly looking way too early, considering other chapters have not been released yet. but one thing i have noticed is that megumi only really has shown CLEAR signs of liking her more than just a friend when he is about to leave her (not the scene where he’s silently fighting over sitting next to her at yuji’s place because that could arguably be seen as platonic too despite me seeing it as him liking her) - for example; when he’s going on vacation without her. now i understand that this is only one example but i have a feeling that this may become a reoccurring theme - what was it, absence makes the heart grow fonder? i have a feeling he’ll only ever understand his feelings for her when he is away from her. and given the angst hashtag, it wouldn’t exactly be surprising if for any reason they moved away from each other, whether figuratively or physically.

i could be completely wrong though and if that’s the case, then this is embarrassing ( ᵒ̴̶̷᷄◡̶͂ᵒ̴̶̷᷅ )و

but regardless, i’m so happy i stumbled across this fic. seriously, the way u write is awesome and i can only wish to be as good as you when it comes to writing! the dialogue, the chemistry between the characters is so cute and feels like a coming of age sitcom. i love it i love it i love it and i love you!! (๑˃́ꇴ˂̀๑)

please keep up the good work, soldier. i salut you for your hard work keeping us all sane after gege shattered our souls (stay alive, don’t let him find you) ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

liar, liar masterlist here

oh. my. GOSH. a long message? AJSJWKSJWJSJ STOPPP I’M SO EXCITED TO ANSWER THIS

it is not weird at ALL. i created this y/n with the sole thought that there should be a character as wild as her (i love goofy characters sm you have no idea). like my fav character from aot? connie. fav from jjk? gojo. fav from haikyuu? tanaka and hinata. fav from death note? L (don’t lie, that man was funny af).

read that entire sentence about her chemistry with megumi and the relationship she has with the other characters not being forced with a FAT smile on my face 🙂‍↕️ an author knows they’ve won once someone points this out using their own free will. thank you for that 😭💞

the second i saw the word ‘foreshadowing’ in ur message, JAISJWISJWJSJ. YES, YOU HAVE A PREDICTION? TELL ME MORE (i feel like a mastermind rn muahahahaha) 😋 you are nawt silly for looking for it earlier. i’ve dropped so many hints and no one’s picked it apart yet (surprisingly). some are more obvious than others, but let me tell you now, once you’ve noticed it, you’re gonna smack ur forehead and think ‘why didn’t i see this before?’.

i LOVE how you’re playing devil’s advocate for yourself (you’re so smart omg). like you’ve mentioned how the only in-your-face type of thing we’ve seen so far is the airport scene (i mean, if gojo pointing it out wasn’t so obvious, dk what is, really, lolol). and i also like how you’ve made it so that the arguing in yuji’s room can be easily seen as platonic despite what you might think (we need smart people like you so pls don’t die tyvm).

and OOH, IDK WHAT TO TELL YOU WITHOUT SPOILING IT. distance makes the heart grow fonder… yeah, can’t reveal whether this trope is for them or not. i can, however, confuse you a little and say that you’re half right. maybe, like, forty five percent right if i have to slap a number on it. yeah. but there is something that occurs later on (you guessed it, with the angst hashtag) that makes me want to say that you’re actually fifty five percent right. idk, you’ll see what i mean once the main story’s out 😭

this would NOT be embarrassing for you if you’re wrong, let me tell you that much. this fic’s been out since the end of december (beginning of january?) and no one’s come to a prediction as well thought out as yours. for that, i will NOT forget you when i write out the half-correct prediction of yours in the coming chapters.

i’m so happy you stumbled across my fic too! 😭 i’m having sm fun writing this out and laughing to myself (not at you babe, just as the evil mastermind that i am). i’ll be responsible for your complaints once the angst chapters get out (plural because there’s a LOT of them planned). tysm for ur kind message, i’m so flattered my writing pleases you 😭 dialogue is hard to write, trying to match it with the characters ofc, so i appreciate your support on that 💘

girl, gege will never find me. after what he did to my satoru, i will find him. don’t get it twisted.

on the contrary, i’m so upset you wrote all of this anonymously but i respect it, there might be a gazillion reasons why you’d like to remain anonymous. so if you ever send a message again, just lmk it’s you. call yourself the ‘big brain anon’ (😤) because you’re so smart and ily and don’t be humble about it, you are SO smart <3

#gonna create a new tag specifically for predictions #gonna be called #liar liar predictions!#inspired by big brain anon! we love her!#spam ur love for her in the chats guys #*cricket noises bc ik no one will*#i will tho #😤#love her sm #i love everyone else too #my heart’s big enough to stuff every single on of you in there #for the ppl that are the first to like or comment (yk who you are babe)#for the ppl who tip SO GENEROUSLY (yk who the two of you are my loves)#i bought a nice cold coffee with it WHILST writing liar liar #like i’ll only ever use the tips to get myself a treat while writing so your money’s spent on smth that will improve the story you arrived #here for #yk?#for the ppl who leave long comments or any comments at all for any of my stories :)#and for the ppl who have ever blazed my posts! (yk who you are!!)#ily allll #ahh i’m so excited #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi x y/n #megumi x you #liar liar asks!

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averagewriter-inthedark · 2 years ago

Text

My Heart Will Go On 🤍 | Bradley Bradshaw Imagine | Titanic AU

Set where Bradley falls in love with a first class passenger aboard Titanic

TGM Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: third class!Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x first class!female reader (romantic), Natasha Trace x Jake Seresin (romantic), Robert Floyd, Mickey Garcia, Reuben Fitch, Javy Machado, OCs for family members.

Content Warnings: fluff, major angst, profanity, classism and mentions of sexism & misogyny, historical event disaster, death, emotional, light smut-Minors DNI! | female!reader (she/her) wc: 18.3k (this is long be warned)

Requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)

Premise: On Wednesday April 10th, 1912, RMS Titanic set sail from Southampton, England on her maiden voyage to America. She carried thousands of passengers from across the world, including 21-year-old American socialite Y/n L/n. No one could have predicted the outcome the ship they said was unsinkable would endeavor. And for Y/n, never did it come to her she’d be boarding a ship with a path of leading her to her soulmate.

Note: Y’all I literally was a MESS during the final few scenes I wrote—I literally had to stop because I was crying. It didn’t help I was playing the Hymn of the Sea and My Heart Will Go On and envisioning the scenes as I wrote them. It was too much really—and I always cry at the end of the movie so it felt the same. Please not this is NOT an exact retelling of the movie plot, i referenced a lot but also did research on the real story of titanic (for example how it was a moonless night so it was very dark). Anyway I’m sorry if this made you a mess like it did to me….we can cry together.

———————————-

1958

“Grandma, can you tell us the story about how you met Papa?”

Crickles rose next to her eyes when she softly smiled, bringing the bed sheet up to tuck in the children. Only the dim light from the candle lit the room. Down the hall, the faint sound of Frank Sinatra’s “Fly Me To The Moon,” on the record player could be heard. She didn’t even hear her daughter, the children’s mother, come in.

“Honey, you both need to sleep,” the woman knew the subject was a sore one for her mother and father, despite being why they met. In her nearly forty years of life, she’d only heard the story first hand from them once. Any other information was the lectures in history class of the historical tragedy. “We have a long drive ahead of us tomorrow so you need to be well rested,” her look was scolding, causing the children, ten and twelve, to pout.

“Pleaaase.”

“Amelia.”

“It’s only half past eight, mama.”

“Yeah, please just one story,” Rebecca pleaded with her sister, “You said they met on a boat like the one we went on last summer!”

Their mother hushed them, “No, I said they met on a ship—that’s very different from the little steamboat your uncle and aunt have.” Her voice goes lower, careful to not to disturb her father from down the hall, “and what did I tell you about asking such things?”

“Sweetheart, it’s alright,” the older woman finally stepped in, casting a soft look to her daughter.

She didn’t look convinced, aware of the painful memories the story would bring up. Losing friends and family so suddenly on what was supposed to be the journey of a lifetime. “Mom…..”

“Trust me, Cynthia, it’s okay. You need not to worry about me,” she turns to her grandchildren who appear confused and a little ashamed for causing their mother to scold them. “I think it’s time these little ones get a little history lesson about your father and I. How the Bradshaws came to be.”

“Are you sure?” Cynthia stepped further into the room. She didn’t want to admit it, but she too wanted to hear the story again. The first time had been when she was eighteen, confronting her parents after she found newspaper clippings and the ticket for a first class passenger reading her mother’s name, Y/n L/n, stashed away in a box when they were moving. That’s when they sat her down at the table detailing everything from start to finish.

By the time her parents finished telling the story Cynthia was in a puddle of tears. She understood why her parents always had a haunted look in their eyes whenever April 14th rolled by. It never left them until the 16th, since the 15th was just as significant. Her older sister by eight years, Caroline, warned her to refrain from asking their parents about how they met and she soon realized why. After doing the math, her sister’s birthday was exactly nine months to the day, born on the 14th of January in 1913.

As she got older Cynthia met more children like her. Those whose parents, grandparents, uncles, and aunts were among the nearly 2,300 passengers and crew aboard. Children whose family members survived had the same look when the anniversary passed. Just like Cynthia’s parents.

“Mom,” she took a seat on the armchair in the corner of the room, “I don't want you to relive it if it’s too much.”

“I appreciate your concern, honey,” Y/n smiled at her, “but I’ve learned to cope and manage. Your father has too,” she watched Cynthia visibly relax. “In fact, he and I have talked about it a few times since you left home. And I promise to keep it short—and not go into detail about….you know,” she didn’t have to explain further for Cynthia already knew what she implied.

With a nod from her daughter, Y/n adjusts her position so she’s seated more comfortably, allowing the children and Cynthia to see her better. “To tell you the story of how Papa and I met,” she begins, the flicker of the candlelight reflecting against her. “We have to travel back forty-six years. To April tenth, nineteen-twelve…..”

“Hurry, Y/n, we’re gonna be late for check-in!” Her father shouted from in front of her, moving at a fast pace with her mother and younger brother. Clutching a bag in each hand, Y/n tried not to trip while apologizing left and right to people she bumped with. The dress she had on was tight, the skirt brushing against her ankles and Y/n wished she opted out of wearing the pillbox hat her mother insisted she wore.

“Sorry!” She said when she caused a man to drop his basket of apples. “I’m so sorry!” As much as she wanted to help she couldn’t, the whistle of the luxurious ship sounded off in the near distance, resulting in more stress to consume her. Her family was supposed to be dropped off right in front of the dockway, but due to a rough start in the morning they ended up getting caught in traffic just before the turn into the lot. Now they were running with little time until the ship would set off for Cherbourg, France, the first of two stops before sailing to New York.

It wasn’t a classy sight for such a wealthy family. Surely their fellow first class passengers were watching them with disapproval. But then again they always did.

The L/n’s were not your average high class family. While the majority of the first class aboard came from generations of money, Y/n’s father built his real estate business in New York from the ground up after being in the working class for thirty years. They were what you would call ‘new’ to the high class scene and still did things working class people did. She and her brother went to public schools instead of private institutions. They didn’t have an army of maids and butlers in their home, her mother preferring to do the housework herself. Y/n was in her last semester of NYU with passions of being a writer. And her father was very involved in his business despite making it big to the point he could just hire a bunch of people to run it for him.

To them, money was a privilege that could easily be taken away at any point. They were humble in their wealth, sharing it by putting resources into the low income neighborhoods they once lived in. Unlike their newfound peers who’d rather stockpile it away for safekeeping.

Yeah, even with money you hide away from judgment.

Out of breath already, Y/n finally reached the corner her parents had just turned to arrive at the docking platform. There was no stopping the awe-struck expression in face the second her eyes landed on the giant vessel. The smell of fresh paint struck her nose, gaze drifting to the large lettering that sent chills along her arm.

Titanic.

The rumors did no justice when describing the beauty of the ship. Titanic was magnificent. She wondered if her parents were as captivated as she was.

“Y/n! Come one!”

Scratch that thought. Maybe they weren’t.

Picking up the pace, Y/n hauled up onto the platform with her ticket in hand, amazed she didn’t drop it in the chaos.

“Ticket please,” the man dressed in a White Star Line uniform said with his hand out. Her parents and brother were standing off to the side, now taking in the beauty of the ship since they made it on time.

Handing over the paper, the man read over her information and stamped it, allowing her to pass where another man was waiting to escort them to their suite. Settling in Y/n unpacked her gowns and nightwear, hanging them up to prevent wrinkles. Makeup and what little jewelry she had filled the vanity, school books claiming the nightstand. When she finally finished her back hit the bed with an audible huff of relief, sinking into the mattress adorned with fine silk sheets.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” her father said when he found her just a short moment later. “Lunch will be served and my colleague wishes for us to join him and his son. He’d like for the two of you to meet.”

Instantly Y/n bolted up from the bed, suspicious in her eyes, “Why?” There was no denying the possible reason. At 21 years old, finding a suitor to settle down with was expected of her. Personally Y/n wanted to focus on her studies. Not finding a husband. Her parents never pressured her to find someone, but now it seems her father was suggesting such.

Her mother comes into the room, wearing the same expression as her. Her eyes go straight to Y/n’s father, “I told you, I don’t like that man—nor his son. He has no respect for you and you know that!”

“I know that, dear,” he sighs, exhausted in his tone. “Believe me I’m very aware. Look, I’m not trying to set her up on my own accord—in fact, I’ll be happy to decline a proposal if that is what he’s seeking. But he invited us to have lunch with them and I accepted because that’s how things are done. Honey,” he faces Y/n, giving her an assuring gaze, “I’m not pressuring you into anything. Okay? If I said no to this he’d likely pester the entire journey to America and I did not want that for us. So please, give me an hour of your time to get through this meal? Bore the man if you have to so he’s less interested.”

Y/n was eternally grateful she was blessed with a father who did not engage in the typical high class behaviors. Any other man would be presenting her hand in marriage like an auction. She’d seen it with the few friends she’d made. It always started with a ‘meeting’ arranged by the fathers of two people and before they knew it a rock was on the girl's finger.

Her father respected her. He warned her before she sat at the table and found out for herself. Even given his blessing to scare the man off or assuring he’d say no to a proposal. Not many fathers would do that.

“Thank you for telling me in advance, dad. I’m starving too so let’s get this over with,” she makes a face, knowing what he was going to ask of her next. “And I promise to watch my tongue.”

That didn’t last long. She knew the second she sat at the table it wouldn’t. Not only was her father’s colleague the most arrogant man on the planet with no respect for his peers, but his son was as equally the egotistical maniac as he was. Throughout the entire lunch, Y/n didn’t know who exactly was trying to win her affection. Both men seemed to be trying to one up the other. How odd of the father for doing such when it was thought he planned for his son to hopefully become her suitor.

Not the case really.

One comment from Richard to undermine her intelligence had Y/n bolt from the table with a sneaker remark, disregarding the looks of disdain from the two men and others. Her parents remained invested in their meal, shooting a smirk of approval to their daughter.

“You promised me this would be a mutual agreement!” The man shouted in frustration. Her father simply sipped his champagne.

“I promised no such thing, William. I said your son may meet my daughter, but I made no commitments for her to agree to anything more.”

The fresh air and sound of the sea hit Y/n as she stepped onto the deck, overlooking the rear of the ship where the second and third class decks were. Closing her eyes she took a deep breath before slowly letting it exhale. Men like Willam and Richard were not the first she’d interacted with. Unfortunately most of the male population in high class shared personalities in similar nature.

Egotistical, arrogant, narcissistic. The list goes on. Very little respect for women or those of lesser wealth. Y/n prayed she’d never settle for someone like that. The marriage would be a disaster.

Opening her eyes, Y/n rubbed her hands along the smooth railing before slightly leaning over to get a better look. Murmurs filled her ears, children laughing from the lower decks, the band playing a light melody. It was a pretty scene with the sun high in the sky and seagulls flying overhead. They’d be docking in France soon before stopping in Ireland until finally crossing the Atlantic.

As her eyes drifted over the area, Y/n locked gazes with a man who made no attempt to hide he was staring at her. It caught her off guard, but the young woman couldn’t let but stare herself. He was the most handsome man she’d laid eyes on. Brown hair with almost a golden hue to it. Though it was hard to see the color of his eyes from the distance she assumed they were as beautiful as the rest of him. He was tall—even with the distance she saw in the way he towered over the railing he was beside.

And he was looking at her like she was the only girl in existence.

Blinking, her admiration was cut short by the sound of a cheerful voice shouting, “Y/n!” Spinning around, Y/n was met with the dazzling smile of her best friend, Natasha Trace. Surprise etches her expression.

“Natasha!” The two embrace in a hug. “What—you didn’t tell me you were returning to America. I thought your studies were to finish in London.” Natasha was the only genuine friend Yn had made since her father hit the money pot. Maybe it was because Nat’s family was of humble beginnings like the L/n’s.

“I discussed the potential of finishing the semester early,” Natasha explained, beaming and looking radiant with the way the sun was hitting her. “My father sent a ticket through the post once I told him the news.”

“When was this?” Y/n had recently visited the woman when her family were in London. Her father had a business convention and with the finishing of Titanic, he wanted them to be one of the ships first passengers. During her visit, Nat revealed no indication she’d be joining the maiden voyage to New York.

“Shortly after you departed for Southampton. I only had few exams remaining and my professors were very forthcoming with allowing me to do them early. Plus I missed home. My mother has been writing me daily it seems—waiting for me to come home. I think my father spent all his fortune to get the ticket to me in time.”

“I’m amazed he managed to get one,” Y/n commented, taking her arm in hers as they begin to walk away from the railing, but not before casting a second glance to the man on the lower deck. A swarm of butterflies filled her to see he was still looking at her, his friend having to wave a hand in front of his face as though to pull him from a trance. Another gentleman beside him appeared to be staring at Natasha. She must’ve noticed, a faint blush appeared on her cheeks as Y/n escorted her away. “I heard many had to trade services and goods to get one.”

“I can see why,” Natasha waved to the beautiful vessel surrounding them. “This place is magnificent. Almost as though it were a ship made of dreams.” They continued to walk along the deck, nodding to passengers and crew members who greeted them.

“What are your plans once we arrive home? Off to visit your family I presume?”

“Yes,” Natasha confirms, waving to a small child. “I’ll spend a few days with them—my sisters cannot wait to hear of my adventures in England.”

Y/n hums, turning her head slightly with a knowing gaze, “And what of Alan?” She watched a tired sigh leave Natasha, face becoming defeated.

“He expects an answer from me as soon as I return.”

“Have you thought about it?”

“Of course,” Natasha replies, stopping to face her. “I’ve weighed in the advantages marrying him would bring me and my family—my mother is sure to remind me in every letter she writes. He is kind, generous, not like the other men my father wished me to court.”

“But….” Y/n trails off, eyes sympathetic.

“But,” her friend sighs again, “I do not feel what a woman is supposed to feel for her potential fiance. I can’t bring myself to love him. I like him, Y/n, I truly do. But I’d only be hurting the both of us by accepting.”

“Then tell him the truth,” Y/n tells her, bringing a comforting hand to Natasha’s shoulder. “Alan is an understanding man—you’ve been a friend of his since grade school. I doubt he would fault you for not being able to return his affections. Why subject the both of you to pain and a miserable marriage? What happens if you marry him and then fall in love with another?”

Natasha didn’t answer, glancing to the floor with heat coating her cheeks. Y/n squeezed the shoulder she was touching, “Come, let us have a drink,” she began to lead Nat to one of the many lounges in first class, “Take your mind off things while I tell you all about the father and son I recently had lunch with.”

“That sounds interesting…and a little concerning.”

“Trust, dear friend, it was.”

Later on in the evening, Y/n was pulling Natasha to her room to hand over clothing for her to change into.

“This is a horrible idea, Y/n!” She spoke in a rush, untying her dress and moving to be hidden from view.

“Oh it’s not so bad,” Y/n laughed, tossing the clothing she wore on the bed before pulling on the slacks and shirt. “Have some fun. Were you not the one who wanted to explore the ship earlier?”

“Not by sneaking into the third-class compartments!” She waved a hand like it was obvious, “We’re not allowed down there. What if we get caught?”

“That’s why I told you to have your ticket with you,” Y/n reminded her, placing her own ticket into the pocket of her trousers. “And your identification card. If we get caught we show them and if they still do not believe us I will send for my father.”

“You’re awfully confident about this.”

“Natasha, who’s to say we’ll get the chance to travel this ship again once we dock in America? Let us make the most of it while we can.” Placing a scarf around her neck, Y/n nods for Natasha to follow. “Follow my lead.”

Getting caught by crew members when passing between the class decks was what Y/n was prepared for when she first made the impulse decision to explore the ship. Running into the man she had a staring contest with earlier in the day was not something she had planned for.

“Hello,” she breathed out, hands clutching his biceps when he caught her before she could hit the ground after running straight into him without paying attention. He was even more beautiful up close. Hazel eyes boring into her with a small smile painting his lips. He must’ve recognized her too.

“Hello.”

“I think we lost them,” Natasha caught up to her, equally out of breath before freezing at the sight of the group of six men staring at them like deer in headlights. “Oh…”

“Ladies,” the blonde haired man, who Y/n caught looking at Natasha that afternoon tipped his messenger boy hat at them.

“S-sorry,” Y/n stuttered, flickering between the men but always coming back to the one holding her arms. Finally she broke away, embarrassed to have been seen in such a state. “I should have been watching where I was going—.”

“It’s alright,” he replied, voice as soft as his eyes. “No trouble at all, ma’am. Are you both okay?”

“We’re—.”

“There you are!” A shout captured all’s attention, Natasha and Y/n groaning before shooting apologetic frowns to them. “Stop them!”

“We have to go!” Nat grips onto Y/n’s forearm, pushing her to move. “Y/n, I’d like to make it back home and not be forced off this ship in Ireland!” Frantic sounds of approaching footsteps could be made out by the two crew members pursuing the women.

“We know a way,” the man she had yet to learn the name of suddenly said, holding his hand out. “C’mon.”

Maybe it wasn’t wise for two ladies to be following a group of strangers. But considering they’d be facing the wrath of their parents if caught they impulsively agreed, Y/n’s hand taking his. The blonde offered his to Natasha, the woman looking hesitant before accepting and the two led them away from the deck and towards a corridor. With the remaining of their group following from behind, it made it easier for the crew members to lose sight of them.

Music filled their ears, as did the chatter of a crowd the closer they got to wherever they were taking them. Y/n and Natasha shared a look, equally confused, concerned, and intrigued. When they turned the corner into a spiral stairwell, it revealed the source of the noise. Third-class passengers had gathered what appeared to be a celebration. Children and adults were dancing, drinking beer which had to have been smuggled in. A group of men were playing instruments while couples standing in corners displayed affection to one another.

A smile formed on Y/n’s lips. The energy was contagious, making her want to join in on the festivities. She’d almost forgotten what brought her there in the first place.

“They won’t come down here,” his voice brings Y/n out her thoughts, the young woman remembering she was still holding his hand. It felt warm in her own, bringing a heat to her veins that carried to her face.

“Are you sure?”

“They would’ve been here by now if they were that desperate to catch you two.” Pulling her further in, he and his friend let go of the women. “Apologies for being so forward—didn’t think you two would mind seeing you were in such a hurry.” A couple of the friends they were with already went off to mingle, leaving the four off to the side.

“We should be thanking you really,” Y/n replied, hand moving to run her arm nervously. “You’ve saved us from a load of trouble.”

“Looked like it,” the blonde removed a cigarette from his tin, lighting it with match. Offering one to them only Nat accepted, which would’ve been seen as scandalous to their peers above. “So…what brings a couple of first-class gals below deck?”

The two are instantly flustered, “H-how did you—.”

“Well, for starters there’s the fact we saw you ladies this morning on the first-class deck,” Green eyes drift over to Nat, causing her to blush. “And though you dressed the part to pass as someone like us, anyone could tell from the way you carry yourselves that you belong above.”

They didn’t know whether they should be impressed or offended.

“We wanted to explore the ship,” Y/n admits, arms going behind her back like a child caught doing something they weren’t supposed to. The man she was interested in raised a brow, “By dressing up like third-class passengers?”

Natasha made a sound, muttering, “I warned you this was a bad idea.”

“I realize that now, Natasha.”

“What are we supposed to do?” She groaned, “Wait it out till the sun rises? Or when we dock in Ireland when they’re easily distracted?”

“Do you want me to answer that with a plan or were those rhetorical questions to further prove you were right?” Y/n glanced around the place, aware of her friends' annoyed gaze compared to the men who looked amused. Huffing, Y/n faces them, “It’s come to my attention we have yet to know the names of our saviors. Mind telling us, and anything you could offer to help our situation.” Instantly the two straighten.

“Jake Seresin,” said the blonde.

“Bradley Bradshaw,” his hand extends to formally introduce himself. Y/n shakes it, mirroring the smile he gives her. “And about your situation, I’m afraid you can either attempt to sneak past the guards during shift change or like your friend mentioned, wait till we dock in Ireland.”

“That’ll be just before noon,” Natasha sounded like she didn’t like that option. “Your parents would notice you’re not in your room when it comes time for breakfast. We must return as quickly as possible.”

Bradley tilted his head, “Well if that’s the case then you better off with your chances sneaking past the crew, Miss…..” The trail off in his words made her realize she hadn’t given her name. But then again he may have heard when Natasha said it moments prior.

“Y/n L/n,” his reaction to her name was visible. As was Jake’s when she added, “and this is my friend, Natasha Trace.”

Both men shared a look. “L/n, huh? Like the name of that big building on 21st street?”

“That’s the one,” her lips tightened, ready for the judgment and assumptions about to be thrown at her.

Nat felt the same when Jake added, “And your daddy is the one competing with Rockefeller for king of the oil business. I remember reading something about it in the Times.”

“I wouldn’t go as far as to use the term ‘king,’” she crossed her arms, tilting her chin up with her walls already in place. “And I wouldn’t trust all you read in the papers. My father has high respect for John—he taught him everything he knows.”

Jake raised his hands in defense, “I mean no offense, ma’am. How about you tell me more over a drink?” The look of surprise had the man grinning, Y/n having to bite back a giggle to not embarrass her friend. She gave Natasha an encouraging nod that read, ‘he’s on the make with you!’

“While you two are chatting,” Bradley suddenly cut in, a determined look in his eyes as they set on Y/n. “Would you like to dance?”

“O-oh,” she began to stutter, now in Natasha’s shoes considering she had yet to accept Jake’s offer of a drink. They both were hesitant to agree to the offers. “Uh—shouldn’t we be looking to see when the night guards change shifts?”

“That’ll be towards dawn,” he assured, “plenty of time for you to return to your room before your parents wake.” At her still unsure gaze, Bradley’s voice turned softer, “just one dance. S’all I ask.”

Meeting Natasha’s eyes, who simply nodded in silent exchange, Y/n raised her hand and let it fall into Bradley’s grasp. “One dance, Mr. Bradshaw.”

“Did you really only dance with him for one song, Grandma?” The twelve year old girl, Amelia, was flabbergasted when her grandmother ended the story with, “and we lived happily ever after.” She yearned to hear more.

“That was the plan,” Y/n booped her nose, “but your Papa was a charmer back in the day—still is I should say. One dance became two, and then three. Before we knew it the sun was rising, Natasha and I were in a hurry to return to the first-class deck. Thankfully we made it before anyone could spot us,” lips curl up, a fond memory surfacing in her head, “though to this day I believe my brother knew what we did.”

“How?” Rebecca asked, earning a look from her mother.

Y/n chuckled lightly before responding, “He had that look in his eye that he knew something I didn’t. I never got the chance to ask him if he did,” a sad sigh leaves her, but she quickly masks it to not concern the girls, “but my brother and I had an unspoken connection when we were growing up. Able to know what the other was thinking or trying to imply with little to no words at all.”

“What happened after?” Amelia sat up straight, eyes full of hope. A hopeless romantic, even at a young age, she loved hearing the tales of how people found love. Fairytales were her favorite, where the princess meets the handsome prince and they live happily ever after.

The clock was pushing 9:30, well past the time she and her sister were supposed to be asleep. Amelia believed her mother would’ve stepped in earlier to cut the story short.

And it looked like she was about to do it just then. Standing from the armchair, Cynthia stopped her mother before she could answer, knowing the story was about to take a different turn if it went any further. “I think that’s a story for another day,” her tone was apologetic, but Y/n’s gaze assured her she was right to interrupt. The story would end on a happy note for the girls.

“But—,”

“You mother is right, sweetheart,” Y/n lightly pushed against Amelia’s shoulders to get her to lay down, bringing the sheet back up. Disappointment filled her granddaughter’s expressions, Y/n offering a small smile, “One day, I will tell you both more of my time on Titanic—and how your Papa and I fell in love in those short days sailing the Atlantic. But for now,” she goes to press a kiss to their foreheads, “sleep. We will have breakfast in the morning—I’ll even make French toast for you two.”

Though the girls wanted to hear more, the exhaustion soon took over, both releasing a yawn. Amelia drifted off, picturing Titanic and all its beauty from how Y/n described it, making a mental note to ask to see a picture one day.

Cynthia kissed her daughters goodnight as Y/n blew out the candle, the two exiting the room with Cynthia closing it behind her, leaving it slightly ajar. Approaching the kitchen, Cynthia debated on asking the question on her mind, growing bigger with each second. Everett, her husband of 15 years, had already gone to bed in the guest room they’d been staying the past weekend, leaving her father as the only person other than them still awake.

Y/n was handed her nightly cup of tea from Bradley, the man leaning to kiss her cheek. Sipping the hot contents, she released a sound of content, his arm going around her while he sipped his own. Leaning against the doorway of the kitchen, Cynthia admires the scene in front of her. The look of love in her father’s eyes while he gazed down at Y/n, his own wrinkles adorning his face. Both grayed haired with skin beginning to frail as they approached their 70s.

Cynthia pictured them at 21. Young and carefree with dreams and aspirations. Her mother, a timeless beauty and her father, the handsome charmer. Boarding Titanic to return home after being gone so long, unaware they’d meet their soulmate and experience an event regarded as the deadliest peacetime disasters in history.

They were one of the lucky ones. Surviving when so many were lost, yet they had their fair share of perished loved ones. Cynthia saw it anytime Y/n mentioned her father and brother. Saw it when her father discussed the days he spent with his best friends.

“Little ones finally in bed?” Bradley’s voice removed her from her thoughts, Cynthia nodded when she realized he was asking her.

“Yeah,” she rubbed her arms, “they insisted on hearing a story from grandma.”

“Oh really?” he looked intrigued, peering down at his wife, “which one this time?”

Y/n tightened her mouth slightly, “About how we met.” Instantly his expression changed, but it wasn’t like in the early years where Bradley would shut down at the mere mention of Titanic. Instead a hint of a smile found his lips, knowing it was his granddaughter’s wanting to know how they fell in love.

“Oh,” he hums, shuffling his feet a bit and tightening the hold on Y/n. “What all did you tell them?”

“Up to the morning of the eleventh.” A laugh leaves him, making Cynthia mentally sigh in relief.

“What a night that was,” the memory of him and Jake ushering Y/n and Natasha through the secret pathways they’d found that led straight to first-class replayed in his mind. Peering behind the corridor at the night crew relieving themselves from post, giving only three minutes for the women to cross into the deck without notice. Bradley catching Y/n’s hand before she could leave, “May I see you again, Y/n? If not tonight but the next?” The eye contact between them was intense, desire and what could only be described as the beginning stages of love swarming.

Y/n promised to return, noticing Natasha was promising the same to Jake and handed Bradley the handkerchief she had on her. A kiss to her hand and Bradley watched her go, dragging Natasha away until they disappeared out of sight, leaving the men to avoid being seen as they headed back to the third-class compartments.

“One to remember,” Y/n echoes, leaning more into him. The image of her and Natasha giggling when they made it to her suite flashed in her mind. “I cannot believe that just happened! Oh, Natasha, do you feel what I am feeling? It’s like walking on a cloud!”

“Mom, dad?” Cynthia suddenly spoke, nervous she was about to make them upset by asking the jarring question nagging her brain. When their heads turned the words flew before she could stop them, “Could…could you tell me again about that night?”

Sunday April 14, 1912 started out like any other aboard Titanic. Y/n rose early to accompany her family at breakfast before meeting with Natasha for lunch. Throughout the day they’d reside close to the railing of the first-class deck to oversee the third-class one where Bradley and Jake would wait for them. Subtle looks and waves would be exchanged, the men subjected to howls and whistles from their friends.

In the days leading up she felt like she was living in one of her fairytale novels. The night of the 11th she and Natasha were formally introduced to Mickey, Reuben, Javy, and Bob when they snuck back during the shift change between day and night crew. Y/n enjoyed being with the group. They were funny and outgoing, very different from the men she was usually surrounded by.

Together they’d drink whiskey and smoke cigarettes, dance to the music passengers played and tell tales of their upbringing. Y/n learned Bradley and his friends were all aspiring aviators with backgrounds as mechanics and had grown up in the same neighborhood. He was originally from Virginia and lived in New Jersey with his Godfather after losing his parents to illness when he was sixteen and had no siblings.

Y/n told him about her family, explaining how they were once working class citizens until her father had a leading hand in constructing The National Association of Realtors. Bradley appeared impressed when she told him, finding admiration in those who worked hard for their wealth and not had handed to them on a silver platter. She explained her studies at NYU, dreams of being a writer—a novelist to be more specific, and hobbies of hers such as horseback riding, reading, and writing.

“What type of novels do you wish to write?” Bradley popped some chocolate into his mouth, offering a piece to her which she gladly accepted.

“Thrillers would be interesting to do,” she walked with him along the deck, the sound of the water hitting the ship loud against her ears. Jake had dragged Natasha off God knows where. The others were likely enjoying the company of their new Irish friends they made who boarded during the stop in Queenstown. “A good mystery could be fun. Also who does not like a happily ever after when it comes to love stories?”

“Think this journey may inspire one of the sort?” Bradley’s voice took a different turn, Y/n glancing to see he was already staring at her, a look she could only describe as adoration. It made heat rise in her, butterflies pooling that were threatening to burst from her stomach.

‘Is this what they mean when you’ve fallen in love at first sight?’

Feeling confident, returning the same gaze as Bradley, Y/n replies, “It is too early to say, but if what I feel happening is the same for you…. I find it very well could be.”

That night ended with their first kiss. Shared before the sun rose and Y/n made her leave to her room. Though she was scolded by her mother for missing breakfast due to sleeping in longer than she should have, Y/n didn’t care. The tingling sensation from where Bradley’s lips met hers remained all day, making the young woman yearn for more. A light feeling in her chest as though she was walking on a cloud. It grew stronger with each time she was with Bradley.

Hours were spent together once the night sky took over. Y/n departing for bed right after supper to get a few hours of sleep. When she awoke Natasha was knocking at her door and the two would sneak off—careful not to draw attention to themselves. The night of the 12th Bradley and Y/n crept into the area where the motor vehicles were stored. It was like a candy store for the man, who worked on cars for a living.

They’d play pretend with Bradley acting like Y/n’s driver. “My lady,” he’d say while helping her into the unlocked vehicle. “Why thank you,” her giggle made his heart skip, wishing to hear more of it. Y/n would lean over the seat between them while he leaned back, the two sharing kisses between laughs.

Two young adults living in their own little world. Slowly falling in love as the day turned into night. Each time Y/n left there would be a gaping hole in her heart. Drifting off to sleep with Bradley’s face as the last thing she saw. When the cycle continued on the 13th, all Y/n could think about was coming clean to her family. She could no longer deny there was love between her and Bradley. Despite only knowing each other for three days, Y/n saw his love for her each time they locked eyes. Every little touch had her wanting more. The words he spoke to her were like a poem, her hand itching to write them down so they stayed with her forever.

She wasn’t worried about them judging Bradley for his status. They were once in his position not even a decade ago. Discriminating him for being lower-class would make them hypocrites and just like their peers they criticize on the daily.

Y/n knew her parents wanted her to be happy. Regardless of who or where the person came from, as long as they loved and respected her then Y/n’s parents would accept them. Her happiness was their priority. It was why they constantly turned down marriage arrangements from her father’s colleagues. And when looking at all the qualities Y/n desired in a life-long partner, Bradley possessed all of them.

“Are you going to tell them?” Natasha raised her teacup to her lips, eyes unconscious flickering over the railing to find Jake. They were seated at a table, discussing the feelings rising between them and the men who’ve caught their eyes. Raising her own, Y/n followed her movements and saw Bradley kicking what appeared to be a ball with his friends and some children.

“I don’t know honestly,” she sighed, placing the teacup back on its saucer. Tiny sunglasses framed her face, protecting her eyes from the sun directly in front of her. “Do you plan on telling your family about Jake?” Now it was Natasha's turn to sigh.

“I guess I share the same fears as you. While I believe my father would approve of Jake, I’m scared he will worry too much about his public image. Of my parents, he’s the one with the most hopeful I say yes to Alan’s proposal.”

“Your mother doesn’t want you to marry Alan?”

“She doesn’t want for me to end up like her. Though she grew to love my father eventually, their marriage stemmed from their parents pressuring them,” Natasha’s gaze wandered back over to Jake. “It wasn’t until they had my siblings and I that she felt the love a wife is supposed to have from her husband—and that was because of us. Truth is, Y/n, I don’t think I see myself falling in love with Alan even if we have children.”

“Then be honest with yourself and your parents, Natasha,” Y/n finally said, declining when a server approached with more tea.

Her friend gives a look of challenge, “only if you do the same.”

“I will,” Y/n spoke confidently, before making a face of unease, adding, “when we arrive in New York.”

“And have you discussed this with him yet?” Natasha didn’t have to say Bradley’s name for her to know he was who she was referring to.

“No, but I will bring it up when I see him tonight. We’ve only a few more days till we’re stateside, that gives me time to prepare.”

Y/n was late to meet Bradley that evening due to Richard visiting her unannounced. “Apologies for the interruption this late, Y/n. But do you have a moment?” It took her by surprise, casting a worried glance to Natasha who mirrored it.

“Um, of course. Nat, I’m going to step out for a minute. I’ll be right by the door,” a nod from her friend and Y/n stepped into the corridor, closing the door so it was slightly ajar. “Yes, Richard?”

“I wanted to apologize for my behavior on Wednesday,” the words shocked her, Y/n visibly reacting to them as though she was in disbelief he was actually saying them. “I mean no offense to you and feel as though I was misunderstood in what I was trying to say.” It took every nerve of her to not roll her eyes. Of course he was trying to pass it off as her not understanding him. He was only a few words shy of calling her over dramatic. “If you allow me, I’d like for you to reconsider my proposal of courtship.”

Y/n stated the obvious, “You never offered a proposal, Richard. I took my departure before any proposal could be made.” Naturally he didn’t expect her to point out his flaw, thinking he could get away with gaslighting her into believing she rejected him when in fact there was no rejection at all.

Quickly Richard attempted to improvise, “Well, then allow me to make one now,” he removed his hat, placing it over his chest in a slight bow, “Would you do me the honor of courting you in hopes a beautiful, highly respected marriage may blossom out of?”

Now she was put on the spot, heart increasing well over the average beats per minute. No doubt Natasha was listening in, equally as anxious to hear what Y/n would say. Mentally cursing, Y/n fumbled over her words, “I-I…I must discuss this with my father in the morning. Surely you understand, Richard,” of course she wanted to say no, but without her father with her Y/n feared the outcome. Even with Natasha behind the door, there was no saying Richard could react negatively to rejection. “I cannot give you an answer just yet. B-but you shall have one by tomorrow evening.”

Though Richard obviously didn’t like her answer, he did a job of concealing it, “Of course. It was foolish of me to come so late in the evening—and to assume you’d agree without consultation. Please, take all the time and I look forward to hearing from you tomorrow. Have a good night, Y/n.” Once he was gone, Y/n leaned against her door and released a breath she had been holding, Natasha bolting from her chair with a, “What the hell was that?!”

After explaining in depth the details Natasha couldn’t hear and a much needed vent to cool off, the two finally made their way to the third-class deck just after midnight. They found Jake and Bradley in the meeting spot they’d established, sharing a cigar and asking what took them so long. The nervousness in Y/n’s demeanor worried Bradley, who gently pulled her away to give them privacy, “What’s wrong?” The one question had Y/n spilling everything off her chest. From Richard and his stupid proposal to her wanting Bradley to meet her parents.

“I’m very overwhelmed and don’t know what to do,” she cried, eyes lining with unshed tears threatening to spill. “The man is already acting as though I’ve said yes and there’s no way in hell I am going to end up in a loveless marriage for my entire life—not when you’ve taken claim to my heart, though it seems foolish to think you could fall in love with someone in just three days a-and I worry my family is going to say absurd things about your status when it shouldn’t define you because you, Bradley, are the most perfect man I’ve ever met and I love you—.” Her last words are cut off when Bradley’s lips meet her. Large hands cupping her cheeks, the scuff on his face burning her chin as the kiss turns more passionate. Y/n’s hands fly to his hair, soft curls against her fingertips and the woman letting out a light moan when Bradley slips his tongue into her mouth in what people would call French kissing.

Pressing her chest further into his, Y/n feels his arms fall to her waist, lifting her slightly off the ground all while continuing to keep his lips on hers. The wind brushes through her hair, cool air sending chills along her otherwise flaring skin.

“I love you,” he finally whispers against her lips, saying it once more before retraining them to hers. Nothing is said for the remainder of the night, the two finding claim to a storage room where they make love until dawn. The only sound exchanged are hot pants of breath and sighs, Y/n’s nails digging into Bradley’s back while his arms cradle her like she was made of glass. He brings her to a climax so many times she loses count. Moans grew louder to the point she feared someone would walk by and hear them. Bradley swallowed each with a kiss, holding her hand and becoming lost within her. If cloud nine was what she felt when with Bradley, then at that moment she was experiencing euphoria. Feeling the reminisce of him lingering inside her well after they were done.

Basking in the afterglow, Y/n laid her head on Bradley’s chest and felt his fingers trail along her back, making her release a sound of bliss, “Where are you going when we dock?”

It takes a second for him to answer, sleep threatening to consume the man, “Back to New Jersey with the guys—see my Godfather and probably go back to working in his shop. What about you?”

“My studies end in late May so I will return to school for the time being,” she replied, lifting her head slightly to see into his eyes. They were the same as hers. Content, blissed, overwhelmed with happiness. “After that….I do not know. My father I think wishes for me to assist him and my brother with the business. But I’d like to travel—see different places on my own.”

“You know,” Bradley hums, a smirk forming on his mouth, “New Jersey is only a short drive from New York—actually it’s across the harbor, the ferry will get you there quicker.” Y/n’s own lips curled up.

“Are you implying I come visit you in New Jersey, Mr. Bradshaw?”

“Only a mere suggestion Miss. L/n,” he defended, cheekiness in his tone. He then becomes serious, hand cupping the side of her face, “I don’t plan on letting you go after this. My heart won’t allow it. It won’t go on without you.”

It was probably the most romantic thing Y/n had ever heard. Better than any writing on paper and forever engraved into her mind. “I don’t think mine will either.”

All throughout the 14th, Y/n was in a constant inner battle with herself. Wondering how to approach the topic of Bradley to her parents and declining Richard’s proposal. Once they learn she’s no longer a maiden Y/n worried about what their reaction would be. If her father would make Bradley marry her right then and there—not that she would mind honestly but she didn’t know if Bradley wanted the same.

“What is wrong today, my dear,” Y/n flinched from the sudden intrusion. Coming up beside her was her father, placing a hand on the railing in her typical spot on the deck. Natasha had stepped away to find a powder room, leaving Y/n to herself until her father appeared. “You appear to be in distress. I find it difficult you can be in such a state when you’ve got a view like this,” he gestures with his hand to the scene in front of them. Nothing but the beautiful ocean and clear skies, the scene straight from a painting.

“I am only deep in my thoughts, father,” Y/n fidgeted with the material on her dress sleeves, looking away when she saw Bradley as the memory of that morning flashed in her mind. “Thinking about my studies and what to do after.” She heard her father make a ‘humph’ sound.

“Nothing to do with your little admirer then?”

Instantly her stomach fell, heat flaring within her, eyes wide like saucer. Snapping her head to her father, she found his gaze forward and when she followed it, Bradley stood in her vision. Dread consumed her, quickly trying to play it off, “I-I…I don’t know what you mean.” A chuckle fills her ears.

“Darling, I may be getting old but I still have eyes and ears,” a hand rests on her shoulder, pulling her closer. “Do you not think I’ve noticed a shift in you these last few days? Ever since Wednesday’s luncheon you’ve spent every moment of your time on the deck. The knowing glances between you and Natasha—how you two come to this spot every day and spend hours watching those fellas over there,” he lifts his finger to point in their general direction. Crinkles appear beside his eyes when his lips curl, “Not to mention I checked your room the other night to find it vacant. Then when I went to have my late night cigar, I saw you in the distance creeping out of the stairwell with Natasha—but you weren’t alone. Those fellas were with you..” his voice becomes softer while Y/n’s heart picks up pace. “And I know the face of someone smitten. And that one over there—,” he points directly at Bradley, who stood frozen when he looked up to find them staring at them. “He’s smitten with you, my dear girl. Trust me, I know, it’s how I look at your mother.”

While she felt a sudden rush of calmness from her father’s implied approval, the linger of worry still remained. “Are you upset with me, dad?”

“What for, Y/n?”

“Because…” She struggles to find the words and lets out a sound of frustration. “Ugh—I know you are not one to invest your time in gossip but I still cannot help but worry. About how people will view you and all the work you did to give us this life—with these high expectations of who I’ll marry and for me to—.”

He stops her before she could finish, “do you love him?” She’s taken aback by the question, stuttering at his bluntness.

“It—it’s only been four days—.”

“I knew I loved your mother within two,” he tells her, still smiling to help put her at ease. “But let’s not make it a competition. And you didn’t answer my question. Do you love him, Y/n.”

“I do,” she falls to a whisper, finally answering when she locks eyes with Bradley. She could tell he was worried for her, slight strain in his face as though he was trying to decipher what the two were discussing. Offering a small smile in hopes to show it was all okay, Y/n says, “I think I knew from the moment I laid eyes on him he’d be someone important to me. But then talking to him every night since we departed England has only confirmed what I already know. My heart belongs to him.”

With the seal of approval from her father, Y/n spent the rest of the day avoiding Richard—even hiding when she caught him and his father walking the deck in a hurry, as though they were searching for something. More like someone.

She and Natasha had supper in Natasha’s suite, gushing over their newfound happiness with their lovers. Y/n wrote in her diary every single detail so as to not forget it when she got older, capturing the memories in writing. While braiding Natasha’s hair the two discussed the brunette's plans for when they docked. “I’m going to come clean to my parents,” Natasha declared, trying not to move while Y/n finished with the first of two braids. “Tell Alan I cannot marry him and let him know I’m spoken for. He’ll understand…I hope. And for my father he will learn to accept it if he has any objections.”

“I’m happy for you, Nat,” Y/n smiled at her through the mirror. “Truly I am. You deserve to be happy—and Jake is smitten with you.”

“As is Bradley with you,” Natasha smirked, causing her friend to look away shyly. “Oh don’t be shy about it now! I know what took place this morning.” At Y/n’s horrified expression, Natasha laughed, “You were way more tired than usual when we returned to our room. And I couldn’t help but notice a slight struggle when you walked.”

“Good heavens, Natasha!” Y/n let go of the hair to cover her face with her hands, cheeks hot from embarrassment.

“Was it nice?”

“Are you seriously asking me that?”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” eyebrows wiggled at her, Natasha giggling as Y/n playfully tagged at the braid before moving to the next one. Moving on from the subject the two finished getting ready until it was the typical time for them to leave, silently thanking whoever above that Richard did not find her. She’d have to confront him eventually. It was that or pray she could avoid him the remainder of the journey—which was only a couple more days.

Bradley lifted her in the arm when she met him, capturing her lips in a kiss before placing tiny ones over her face. It made her giggle, his scruff tickling with each kiss. “Everything okay today?” was the first thing he asked, “I saw you and who I assume to be your father this afternoon. Looked to be a serious conversation.”

“He’s aware of our endeavors,” she spoke truthfully, not wanting to lie or sugarcoat the inevitable. At his anxious eyes she was quick to explain, “He knows I’ve been sneaking at night to see you—he caught me returning to my room. He doesn’t know about this morning….” She watched him bite back a smile, her own forming as the memory resurfaced. “But from our conversation, my father has no objections about us. He wishes to meet you once we dock.”

“He does?” His tone was surprised, Y/n nodding to show she was serious.

“Yes. I told him about your work and he was impressed. Is….is that okay with you?” Her voice goes low, fearful of his answer. A hand cupped her face, holding her gaze to his and Y/n felt her heart nearly stop at the love in his eyes.

“I would be honored to meet your father, Y/n. It disappoints me we have to wait, but I would wait longer if it means I get to receive his blessing.” Before she could say anything else he kissed her, thumb brushing over her cheek making Y/n sigh with bliss. There was no way she could let go of Bradley after they arrived in America. Even if her father had disapproved of them she’d find a way to see him.

Chills run along her body causing Y/n to shudder, the air suddenly dropping in temperature. The reaction has Bradley pull away, “Are you getting cold?”

“A little,” she mentally cursed herself for deciding on a dress instead of trousers and a coat. It was one of her old ones from when she was fifteen. It was ivory colored and a little worn out from wearing it so often as it had been Y/n’s favorite until she got the privilege of purchasing high quality clothing. Though a little tight on her figure it still fit rather good on her.

Removing his jacket, Bradley pulled it around her shoulders before fixing her hair and ignored her protests. It was freezing outside, their breath visible. Surely Bradley would freeze to death as his long shirt would do nothing to combat the cold.

“There you go, doll.” Her reaction to the nickname had him grin, “That should warm you up. Though I could think of another—.”

“Shall I remind you, Mr. Bradshaw, you’re in the presence of a lady and you should refrain from insinuating such scandalous remarks.” Biting his lip, Bradley leans down to hoarsely whisper, grinning at the gasp she releases when she feels his breath hit her ear.

“I don’t recall you reminding me this morning…”

The heat Y/n felt rivaled a fire in a chimney. Consuming her with every inch of her being, she could do nothing but grin while Bradley hid his face in her neck, peppering kisses throughout.

For the next hour they laid on one of the benches, talking of what their lives would be together as the stars danced above them. Y/n pointing out constellations from time to time, making a point to identify Sirius, the brightest star of all. They laughed. They kissed. They dreamed of the future. What their house would look like, “At least two stories. With a big backyard and a dining table to fit ten people.” How many kids they’d have, “Two would be nice, but I wouldn’t mind three. A little mini you and me running around.” If they’ll have animals, “a dog of course. Ooh—a chicken to have fresh eggs for breakfast and possibly a couple of goats.”

It was perfect. Complete and utter bliss.

But that disappeared in the blink of an eye. Right as the clock struck 11:40 pm.

“What’s happening?” Y/n lifted off of Bradley’s chest, sitting up straight by the sound of people shouting on the decks above. Following her suit, Bradley made a motion to stand when he caught sight of Jake and Natasha running toward them.

“What is it?”

“It’s hard to tell,” Jake was out of breath, face red with worry. “But I think I heard someone yell about an iceberg—.” An ugly sound rocketed before Jake could finish his sentence. Jolting movement on the ship deck had them all stumble, Y/n clutching onto Bradley’s side as his arm met her waist. Moments later an intimidatingly large iceberg appeared in their view. Slowly moving as the ship literally whined with effort to avoid collision. But it was to no avail as more striking sounds of ice hitting metal echoed in the night. Pieces fell onto the deck, the four moving slightly aback.

Moments later the ship's engines stopped. Dazed and confused by what they witnessed. Titanic had hit an iceberg. A large one at that. The sound alone was an indicator of how bad the collision was. Stressed shouts of crew members only further confirmed it.

They were left to wonder what would happen next. Were they waiting for the crew to assess the damage before restarting the engines? Would they even be able to? Were they already sending signals to other ships about their collision?

Leaning over the railing, Y/n found the reflection of Titanic’s lights staring back at her. The water was eerily calm, no doubt below freezing. Several other icebergs could be made out in the distance surrounding the ship if she squinted her eyes. With no moon in the sky it made it difficult to see.

Y/n anxiety increased when the thought crossed her mind, ‘Are we going to sink?’ She removed the thought as it appeared. No. There’s no way the Titanic would sink. She was deemed unsinkable by everyone involved in the making of her. She was designed to remain afloat even if four water compartments were flooded.

‘It’ll be alright,’ Y/n thought silently, trying to convince herself more than anything.

But that didn’t last long when Bradley and Jake’s friends rushed over not even twenty minutes later, their nightwear drenched in water and fear coating their eyes. “It’s flooding down there,” Mickey huffed, “all over the floors.” Passengers filled the deck, families huddled together as they awaited information. Mickey’s news sent dread to the young women. Flooding was never a good sign.

Something in Y/n’s gut was telling her to find her family. “I-I need to go,” she glanced at Natasha first and then Bradley, “I should find my father. T-they may know more on the upper deck a-and are not telling us how serious it is down here.” Bradley looked hesitant to let her go, Y/n’s voice turning softer, “I’ll come back. I promise I will—a-and I’ll find out what’s happening.”

“I’ll go with you,” Nat removed herself from Jake, the man wearing the same face as Bradley. “We should go now while the crew are distracted.” Without consulting further, Y/n picked up the skirt of her dress and hurried away with Natasha trailing behind. They made it past each deck, racing up the grand staircase to the level Y/n’s parents were to find them in evident distress. Several other members of their circle were also there.

One look at her father and Y/n’s heart dropped to her stomach. “Dad…” it took everything to remain calm, realizing her hands started to shake when he took them in hers. “What’s happening?” He didn’t want to admit the truth she already knew, but as she squeezed his hands the words left him, confirming the worst.

“Titanic’s taking on water,” the choked gasp was audible no matter how hard she tried to hide it. Her father squeezed her hand, “They’re preparing the lifeboats—you two should go gather some belongings to take with you.” At the mention of lifeboats Y/n mentally thought back to the ones she’d seen lining the ship deck. Counting, her heart further shrieked at the number she summed.

“There's only twenty,” she whispered, horror on her face. “T-there’s got to be three thousand people on this ship. Wha-what—how are they going to save everyone?!” Her voice grew louder with each word. Suddenly she went quiet, the realization hitting her. Behind her Natasha gasped, also realizing the obvious.

All the lifeboats were on the boat deck. Right above the first-class one.

“O-oh my God. They’re not going to be able to save everyone.”

“Y/n—,” her hands slipped from his grasp, “Y/n!!” She was running, skirts dragging along her ankles as she hurried down the path she’d just come from. Urgent footsteps behind her signaled Natasha following, the two women bumping into people without apologizing. Tears lined her eyes the entire way, wishing it was all a horrible nightmare she was going to awake from at any moment.

When she finally found Bradley she collided with him, oblivious to the fact his trousers were soaked in water. Too frantic she made no mind to ask where it came from. “We’re sinking,” she cried against his chest. Even in his arms it did nothing to ease her fear. “The ship’s sinking.”

“Wh-at? No, that’s not possible.”

“She’s unsinkable!”

“It must be a mistake—I’m sure they are working it out as we speak.”

It was utter chaos from then on out. Minutes passed where slowly the passengers would realize the extent of the situation. Cries of children and babies were heard, their parents attempting to calm them despite their own emotions surfacing. Y/n rushed to her suite with Bradley, the man unable to contain his awe at how luxurious the first-class compartments were. He stood like a fish out of water as she flung open her small makeup bag to place her diary, ticket, the few photos she had, and whatever small compatible items Y/n thought were valuable. Clothing and anything else could be replaced.

The door flying open caused her to shriek, Bradley stepping back when Y/n’s father appeared in the doorway. He let out an audible sigh of relief when his eyes landed on her, “Where have you been?” He stepped further into the room, Y/n’s mother and brother trailing behind. All froze at the sight of Bradley standing with her, her father being the only one to recognize him.

“Who’s this?” Said her mother, not shying from looking Bradley up and down. It made him blush, glancing at Y/n for help. But she was also at a loss for words.

“This is the boy I was telling you about. Now as much as I wish we were meeting in any other circumstance,” her father strolled up, closing the bag for Y/n and pulling into his hands while using his free hand to gently push her toward the door, “We need to get to the boat deck this instant.” As they were coming out they met Natasha and Jake, Bradley asking his friend where the others were.

“I don’t know,” Jake stressfully removed his messenger boy hat to run a hand through his hair, “Mickey went to find that girl he’d been shacking up with and Javy I-I thought was behind me.” Bradley gulps, sweat pooling at his hairline.

“We’ll find them,” he firmly states. “We’ll find them all.”

When they reached the boat deck they were faced with the grim reality. Less than two dozen lifeboats would not be enough to get Titanic’s 2,500 passengers to safety. She was going to take many down with her. Time was their emissary. Slowly ticking away by the second.

Coming to the end of the first hour since impact, Bradley brings Y/n’s attention to him when he sees they were only allowing women and children into the boats. Crew members were telling passengers it was only minor damage and they were only putting them in the boats for precaution. Sparks from flares shot into the sky, with hope neighboring ships would notice.

Bradley stared deeply into the eyes he loved, “Marry me.” The question stops the world around them, Y/n’s eyes becoming wide as saucers.

“W-what?”

“Marry me, Y/n,” his tone is serious. “Right now on this ship. Under the stars you love while in front of your family and our friends—i-if tonight…” he trails off, voice becoming shaky. It brings tears to Y/n’s eyes at what he was trying to say. “If tonight is my last night I don’t want to waste another second.” The reason he said ‘my’ instead of ‘our’ last night was knowing deep in his heart Y/n would likely survive instead of him. She would get on a boat and hopefully be rescued.

“Yes,” she whispered, no sign of hesitation in the answer. All the love she felt emitting with one word.

And so the unthinkable happened not a mere ten minutes later. Y/n standing in front of Bradley, hands entwined as the ship’s Chaplin read off vows they repeated. Y/n’s family had tears in their eyes, as did Natasha, Jake, and their friends—who managed to find them at the right moment. Other passengers stopped and stared, some looking on with unreadable expressions, mostly women who found the sight bittersweet. It was almost fitting considering Y/n was wearing a near-white dress.

When asked about exchanging rings Y/n went to say, “no rings,” but Bradley stopped her.

“I have this actually,” his hand goes to his trouser pocket, “It’s not a ring but I think it’ll do.” Removing what could only be described as the most beautiful necklace Y/n had laid eyes on, her mouth parted in disbelief. Diamonds lined the chain, coming down to surround a large blue heart-shaped gem. “It’s a diamond,” Bradley said softly, making Y/n’s eyes widen even more. Wondering how he acquired such a magnificent piece of jewelry that looked like it was worth more than anything she owned.

He must’ve read her mind because Bradley was quick to explain, “My father gave this to my mother when he proposed to her. He got it from his mother, who received it from his father on their wedding day. He never told me how our family came into possession of it, but I once heard him refer to it as the ‘Heart of the Ocean’.” How fitting when they were in the middle of the ocean, and Y/n had become the owner of his heart. “It’s been passed down from Bradshaw to Bradshaw as a gift from a husband to wife. My mother made sure to give it to me before she died,” bringing the necklace around her neck while still facing her, Bradley secured it into place, adjusting it so the heart laid on her chest. Above her own beating heart. “And now it’s yours.”

Hand coming up to her chest, Y/n felt the smooth cut edges of the diamond, tears falling from her eyes. “It’s beautiful,” she croaked, sniffing from the overwhelming emotion. “Thank you. I’ll protect it with my life. H-how did you—.”

“Before you came back to find me I made sure to grab it from my room.” So that’s why his pants were soaked. He went to get the necklace before the compartment flooded.

“I-I,” she stuttered, glancing behind to peer at her father. “I don’t have anything—.”

“Worry not, my dear girl,” the watch he always wore unclipped from his wrist. It was his favorite one, the only item he splurged on before they became wealthy. And now he was given it to Y/n’s husband.

“I can’t take this,” Bradley goes to object, but her father silences him. Y/n kisses the older man’s cheek, whispering “thank you,” as she takes the watch before placing it onto Bradley’s wrist.

“By the power invested in me,” the two hold hands once more, letting the tears fall freely. “I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the Chaplin turns to Bradley, “You may kiss your bride.”

Warm hands cup Y/n’s cheek, lips meeting in the middle to seal the act. No longer was she kissing the handsome stranger who caught her eye aboard the ship of dreams. She was kissing her husband. The man she was to grow old with. To explore the world. Raise children together.

Their fairytale was only beginning. But tragedy was on the horizon. Ending the journey before it could start.

Their friends clapped and cheered, her mother cried. Passengers and crew members witnessing offered nods of congratulations. Before long the happy moment was gone and replaced with the dread once more at the reality facing them. At first Y/n thought Jake and Natasha would marry next, spotting a ring on her friend’s left hand.

“It’s his class ring,” Natasha softly said, admiring the jewelry with glistening eyes. “I told him I’ll marry him once we reach land.” Taking her hand, Y/n squeezes and offers a small, encouraging smile, “We’ll make it the wedding of your dreams.”

The hour reached a half after one, almost two whole since the iceberg struck Titanic. They all gathered to the edge of the boat deck, Y/n’s father ordering her, her mother, and Natasha to put one on. As they did they could hear the crew member shout the same thing he’d been shouting the last hour and half. “Women and children! I need women and children!”

It was then Y/n realized why her father and Bradley were slowly moving them closer. “No,” she whispered, turning fully around. Over Bradleys shoulder she spotted her father speaking to her mother. Behind her children were crying out for their daddies. “I’m not going without you.” His hands met her shoulders. “Don’t ask me to get in that boat, Bradley.”

“You have to.”

“No.”

He squeezed her jacket clad shoulders, “Y/n, please do this for me. Get in the boat with your mother and Natasha. You guys will be safer there.”

“And leave you here!” She shouted, not caring who heard. Here was her newly wedded husband saying goodbye. “You married me not even ten minutes ago—a-and you’re already telling me to leave!?”

“As your husband I’m ensuring you make it off this ship safely! That is my priority—that you’re safe!” His own voice raises, hand going to Y/n’s jaw to force her to look at him when she fights his hold. Bradley was doing his best to keep calm for her sake, not wanting her last image of him to be where he’s scared out of his mind. Though the crew made efforts to conceal the truth, Bradley wasn’t blind. The water was rising closer to the deck, submerging the lower floors past the point of fixing.

Titanic was sinking.

“Don’t ask me to leave you,” Y/n closed her eyes, lip trembling to hold back the sob threatening to escape. “My heart won’t go on without you, Bradley.” It wouldn’t allow her to. Bradley was the keeper of her entire soul. Losing him would destroy her.

“Look at me,” his thumb caressed her cheek, running over her bottom lip to wipe the stray tear. When her eyes opened, Bradley brought her into a kiss. “I’ll find you,” he said pulling away, “Get it in that boat and I promise I will find you when this is all over. I won’t stop till I do.”

“N-no—.”

“I promise you, baby,” he says again, tightening the hold on her. “I will see you again.”

A choked sob left Y/n, pressing her lips to his desperately, the taste of salt hitting her tongue from the tears mixing in. “O-okay.”

“Okay,” he repeated, offering a watery smile. “Hey, I’m the luckiest bastard in the world. You’ve made me so.” They kiss once more, Y/n being passed to her father. She leaps into his arms, shaking against him when he tells her he’ll always love her and to take care of her mother.

“Thank you, daddy,” she cries, nuzzling her face into his chest and not wanting to let go. She didn’t have to explain because he already knew the meaning behind her words. ‘Thank you for trusting me. Thank you for always believing in me. Thank you for letting me open my heart to him and giving your blessing. Thank you for loving me.’

“I love you, my dear girl,” his lips meet the crown of her head. “I’ll see you soon.”

After hugging goodbye to her brother, who was refused by crew to board with them since he was seventeen and viewed as a young man rather than a child, Y/n followed behind Natasha and her mother onto the lifeboat. A crew member assisted, taking her hand, “watch your step, madam,” Y/n’s heart raced with each step, falling to the seat on the edge of the aisle, closest to where Bradley stood.

“I love you!” He shouted to her, going as far to lean over the railing of the ship, Y/n rising enough from her seat to offer one last kiss. It was brief, but she poured all her emotion behind it. A shout from the man in charge of the lifeboat yelled for her to sit and Y/n unwillingly listened. All the way down Y/n kept her eyes on Bradley, briefly meeting those of her father and brother. Jake was next to her husband, no doubt watching Natasha seated next to her.

Even when they landed on the water Y/n could not relax. As the crewmen paddled them away, the sight of Titanic was more frightening than she imagined. Growing worse by the minute. The dark blue section of Titanic lower levels were nearly submerged leaving only the decks above the surface.

“I thought it was unsinkable,” a lady gasped, making murmurs of worry echo among the passengers. Y/n shared a look with Natasha, finding the same emotion etched in the other's eyes. It increased when an unpleasant noise filled their ears, snapping their heads to see the rear of Titanic rising in the air, the front completely foregone in the sea. Without realizing it Y/n had stood from her seat, face wretched with horror.

“Oh my God.”

Hands flew to her mouth, gasps radiating behind at the sight of Titanic going dark. Barely could Y/n make out the vessel due to little light without the moon. It made Y/n strain her eyes, desperate to see what was happening. Praying to whoever above Bradley and her family aboard was on the side of the ship still afloat. Y/n’s breathing increased, feeling Natasha stand beside her.

Everything happened so fast after that. What sounded like gunshots rang out mixed with the screams of those still aboard fighting to make it in time to the rear of the ship. Metal and wood crunching caused bile to fill in her mouth, feeling nauseated by the overwhelming panic.

Whimpers escaped Y/n, becoming full force sobs when a horrible *crack* echoed in the night. Titanic had been split in half. And though hard to see in the dark, the sound alone of the moaning ship sent her into despair. Within minutes the rear half of Titanic lifted once more, fully disappearing out of view forever, leaving the cries of her passengers stranded in the 26 degree water desperately fighting to stay alive.

Y/n dropped to her knees, cries mixing with everyone else. The scene was too much to handle. Screams echoing in the darkness, utter misery to show the terror. She didn’t want to imagine how many people were trapped when the ship sank. All she pictured was Bradley’s face. His smile when the lifeboat descended. That one last look of love.

Then Y/n thought of her father and brother. Were they already at the bottom of the ocean? Or were they part of the hundreds screaming in the distance? The sound that was slowly becoming lower signaling their battle was with cold water was ending. Whatever the case Y/n didn’t want to picture their dead bodies—the thought only made her more devastated.

She cried for her mother. She cried for Natasha—who was in the same state as her. She cried for those on the lifeboat. But mostly Y/n cried for herself. For what could have been

For what should have been.

The screams soon drowned out. Leaving a ghostly silence as Y/n’s sobs returned to whimpers. Soon the exhaustion took over and she fell asleep against her mother’s chest. The cold air was a painful reminder of what had taken place. When Y/n awoke it was to the sounds of engines and for a moment she thought it had all been a nightmare. She’d find herself in bed with the sun peering in from the window. Hearing the footsteps of passengers leaving their suits to attend breakfast. And she’d go about her day the same way until it came time to see Bradley.

But it wasn’t a dream. Confirmed when her eyes opened to the dark skies turning an array of colors from the sun rising in the east. First she felt panic, then came the anguish and soon she was silently crying as her heart broke in two, hand coming to hold the diamond on her chest.

RMS Carpathia was their saving Grace. Y/n was pretty much a walking shell of a woman, reluctantly allowing the crew to help her onto the ship. A blanket was placed around her shoulders, a hot tea in her hand, the saucer shaking from her slight tremor. Guiding her mother and Natasha to a spot away from others, Y/n made no effort to drink the tea. She had no energy even though it would warm her up.

A piece of her was missing—forever lost in the ocean.

People stood at the entryway of where passengers were coming in. Hoping to find their loved ones among the survivors. Seeing Natasha peek around to get a better look, Y/n plainly said, “What are you doing?” Her tone was void of emotion, depicting her mental state.

“I heard someone say one of the lifeboats went back—they were searching for survivors in the water.” Instantly a wave of hope rose within her though Y/n was careful to not let it grow. Scared it’d only be met with heartbreak.

But then sandy hair caught her vision causing the teacup to fall from her hand, contents splashing onto the deck. “Y/n?” She ignored her mother, moving to stand on top of the bench a few feet away to overlook the crowd. Heart racing, she desperately searched for the owner of the sandy hair. She didn’t have to search too long.

“BRADLEY!!” The strangled cry escaped her, the man that stood roughly thirty feet away spinning around in a flash he nearly broke his neck. Y/n could see a girl resembling her beside him, Bradley possibly thinking it’d been her and was disappointed to find it wasn’t. Their eyes met, a mix of astonishment and relief, but most of all pure love pouring into their expression.

“Bradley!” Y/n yelled again, dropping from the bench just as he started to run in her direction. It was like slow motion. Y/n pushing through the crowd, frantically keeping her eyes on him to not lose sight.

“Y/n!” She heard him yell. The crowd between them separated and not a moment later Y/n was leaping into his arms, a sound mixed between a cry and laugh falling from her mouth.

“Oh God,” it was really him. He smelled of sea salt and shook like a leaf, but it was him, Y/n pulling away from the embrace just to make sure. “It’s really you.” His hands cupped her cheek, the feeling all too familiar.

“It’s me.”

“Y-you….I thought you were dead!” A tear trailed her cheek, his thumb moving to wipe it. “I saw the ship sink—and I could not see where you’d gone. How—?”

“The boat that came back,” he started to explain, voice shaking from the cold making Y/n stop a man with teacups, handing one to her husband. “I-I was on a piece of driftwood. It kept me from being…being in the water—.” He gulped, flinching as his eyes watered before closing them. Like he was trying to avoid the painful memory.

Now it was Y/n’s turn to hold his face, offering comfort in the best way she could.

“I-I tried get-getting them on but it was too small for a-all of us. Y-your….” He didn’t want to meet her eyes, shame and guilt visible in his face. “Your father wouldn’t get on—no matter h-how much I told him to. Your brother…” he trailed off, tears spilling from his eyes and Y/n brushed them away while fighting her own. Understanding what Bradley was trying to tell her. “And the others…..wh-what they held onto wasn’t enough to keep them out. I-I thought they’d be okay—I kept calling to them when I saw the boat—b-but they wouldn’t—they wouldn’t answer.” The last word ended with a sob, Bradley’s head dropping down onto Y/n’s shoulders as she held him.

They cried together, Y/n cradling the back of his neck with a hand and feeling the rock of his shoulders against her. Mourning the loss of their friends and family. Y/n grieving the death of her father and brother. When her mother and Natasha arrived, both with hopeful eyes turning into despair in seconds. Seeing Bradley in her arms knowing he was on the boat with the other survivors pulled from the water. Neither Jake nor Y/n’s father and brother with him.

Y/n felt Bradley remove himself from her hold. He looked broken, a shell of a man. Placing a hand in his pocket, they watched him take out an item they couldn’t make out. Only when he unfolded it did they realize what it was.

Jake’s hat.

Natasha let out a gut wrenching weep, covering her face with the hat when Bradley handed it to her before falling to her knees. “I’m so sorry,” a fresh wave of tears threatened to escape, Bradley unable to look at her without feeling the guilt for not saving the man she loved. Y/n moved to hold her friend, Natasha clutching onto her forearm while her mother silently grieved beside them.

All around them was a similar scene. Haunting and dreary. Completely different from the joyous celebration not even a week prior when Titanic sailed off on her maiden voyage. Carrying close to 2,300 people across the Atlantic. Some traveling to America for the first time or were on their way home. Now at least 700 of those passengers were on the Carpathia while the other 1,400 belonged to the sea.

The ship’s crew went around to collect names. Recording them to make it easier when going through the logs when they docked to account for all who survived and persisted. Y/n nearly forgot what name she was supposed to give. Boarding Titanic as a L/n but leaving as a Bradshaw. At the crew man’s confused eyes by the hyphenated name she gave Y/n simply stated, “We married as she sank, but the records will show Y/n L/n.”

Three days. It took three days for Carpathia to arrive in New York. The Statue of Liberty greeted her like an old friend, the people she carried unable to enjoy the scenery they’d been anticipating for so long. The sky rained as though it were crying in mourning. Grieving the lost souls instead of welcoming them.

When the ship docked, Y/n held onto her bag in one hand and Bradley’s arm on the other. Her mother and Natasha followed behind, displaying their grief in every movement. Stepping foot onto the pavement, Y/n let out a breath she’d been holding, feeling only a glimmer of relief at the fact they were home. “What now?” Bradley squeezed her hand, conveying everything in the simple gesture.

“We go on,” he admires the skyline briefly, settling his eyes on hers. “As best as we can we go on. We go on for them.”

“My mother was never the same after that night,” the cracking of wood in the fireplace echoed behind Y/n’s words while she sat on the couch beside Bradley in their sunken living room. Cynthia was across from them, wiping at her puffy face from time to time. Unable to control her emotions.

Y/n’s left middle finger unconsciously traced over the jewelry on her right hand. Her mother’s wedding rings. And nestled beneath her blouse was the necklace worth more than what remained of her family’s fortune.

“She nearly sent herself into an early grave trying to stabilize the business my father built from the ground up. Difficult to do back then when men wouldn’t respect a woman's authority,” Y/n smiles fondly at the memory of her mothers strong willed temperament. “My mother was an intelligent woman. She always prepared for the worst at times. And when deciding what to do about the company, she wanted to make sure our family would be okay if disaster were to strike again. It was like she predicted the fall of the stock market—-preventing us from being affected by selling our shares and interests years before the crash even happened.”

Cynthia thought of her grandmother. How hard it must’ve been to lose her husband and son so suddenly then having to become the face of the family. Her daughter discovering she hadn’t bleed since the week prior to boarding Titanic, the family doctor confirming the pregnancy not a day later. Never remarrying despite the many suitors itching to get a hand on the L/n fortune. Cynthia thought of how her grandmother would wake up bright and early every morning to watch the sunrise. Remembering the smell of her perfume and taking Cynthia and her sister to her favorite bistro for afternoon tea. Teaching them how to be independent women. Even on her deathbed as the illness consumed her right as America joined the Second World War, Y/n’s mother never lost her strength. Thinking of the memories had Cynthia missing her.

“And what about Natasha?” In all the years she’d been alive, Cynthia only heard her parents mention Natasha a handful of times. Each one was met with a distant look in her mother’s eyes, followed by grief until she thought of a happy memory associated with her, causing a small smile to form on her Y/n’s lips.

“She was never the same either,” the answer came with a sad exhale. “After reuniting with her family, Natasha spent several weeks at their family home. I visited her often while I finished my studies and did my best to comfort her in any way she needed. She ended up accepting Alan’s marriage proposal, but on the condition that they travel across America first before being wed. The journey would last several months, but in the end they wedded in Manhattan in the winter of 1913 and welcomed a son and daughter soon after,” the memory of Y/n holding Natasha’s son in the hospital flashed in her mind. “They were happy. As happy as they could be. But Alan, the amazing man he was, knew he couldn’t live up to what Jake was to her. The impact he made on Natasha’s heart. Yes, she grew to love Alan eventually—the birth of their children being the main reason she did—but he was not her true love. And he accepted that,” Y/n felt the lump form in her throat. As it always did when she thought about what came next for her friend.

Bradley’s hand rested on her knee, offering consultation knowing it was hard for her to think about Natasha. Her fingers interlaced with his, swallowing back the lump.

“After the end of the War—the first one—Natasha was traveling with her children home from a weekend visiting her parents. It was late and raining, difficult to see….a vehicle ran the sign and plowed straight into them.” Cynthia didn’t hear the soft gasp leave her mouth, her mother’s own tightening to prevent her lip from quivering. “She was gone instantly. Her children too. Alan was a mess as you can imagine—drowning himself in alcohol daily until I stepped in….”

“Wake up, Alan!” Y/n’s palm met his cheek after knocking the bottle from his hand. “What is the matter with you? Is this how you want to die?” She gripped the labels of his stained dress shirt to make him look at her, voice rising with each word. “By wasting away like some goddamn bum when you could be living for them. By continuing on instead of disgracing yourself or their memory. Natasha could have done what you’re doing when Jake died. And she watched him go down, unable to do anything and hear his screams go quiet as he lost his battle with survival. How do you think she dealt with that? She had every reason to not go on. Let the grief consume her and become the shallow of the person you’re on your way toward. But she didn’t!” Y/n let her emotion release. “She went on—she lived for him! And built a life with you—and you may not believe it but Natasha did love you, Alan. Maybe not the way you wished, but she loved you and you are disgracing it by doing this to yourself! Honor her and your children by finding the strength to live for them. Because so help me God, Alan, I will not watch you waste whatever is left of your life like this. You will die alone with no one to show up when it comes time to be there. The choice is yours.”

“Did he?” Cynthia couldn’t help but ask, “Did he eventually learn to cope?”

“He did,” Y/n smiled. It was a genuine one to show she was happy her friend made it through his hard times. “Alan moved to London about a month after that visit. He wrote to us often, telling about his adventures in England and even traveling across the channel to France where he continued exploring Europe. In 1921 he met a nice woman and married. They had a son and permanently resided in London,” Y/n’s tone went lower, the smile slightly falling. “The letters stopped coming in 1943–during the Second War. I do not know to this day what happened to him. If the bombings claimed them or if he died of disease,” she sadly shrugs, “I only hope he was happy with his life. That despite losing Natasha and their kids he was able to find peace.”

“I’m sure he did,” Bradley finally enters the conversation, having been quiet for most of the time and only adding input during the moments Y/n wasn’t there for. Keeping his experience in the water after Titanic sunk short and limited. While he learned to accept what happened and cope with the grief of watching his friends die in front of him, Bradley still felt the open wound in his heart. “You stepping in is what saved him. Had you not said what you did that day, I confidently believe Alan wouldn’t have made it to the next year. Going to London saved him. All he needed was a strong push.”

A moment of silence passed between them before Cynthia broke it. “Do you think they’ll one day find her?” At the confused looks she received her voice went softer, “Titanic. Do you think she’ll ever be located?” She watched her parents take a sharp breath, like they had never thought of the idea.

“Well…” Y/n brought a hand to rub her shoulder, unconsciously moving it to touch her necklace. “I predict she’d be in the place where she sank, at the bottom of the Atlantic. Either in two pieces,” she winced, “or held together by whatever was able to withstand the pressure.”

“I’m sure if the government or whoever is that interested would be able to locate her,” Bradley comments, rubbing Y/n’s knuckles with his thumb. “But I don’t know if we’ll ever see it happen.”

The rest of the evening was filled with Cynthia hearing stories of her parents' lives before Titanic. Laughter fell between them as Bradley relayed the times he and his friends had gotten into trouble on occasion. Y/n talked about her adventures with Natasha while in college and how her father went from a working class man to one made of riches. How her brother was a mischievous child, playing pranks on the higher-class members who would say mean things about their family. Bradley spoke of Pete, his Godfather, and of his parents who were the reason he went to England in the first place in 1912 to fulfill a dream they once wished of.

When it came time to call it a night, Cynthia kissed her parents on the cheek and departed to her room, thanking them for everything and being open with her. Once in their room Y/n removed her necklace, admiring it like she always did before bed and placed it on its holding, letting her thumb run over the smooth surface. On his side Bradley unfastened his watch, placing it next to the framed sepia photo of Y/n from their official wedding day that took place in May of 1912. Next to it were other photos, some black and white, of them over the years after Titanic. Y/n in her graduation gown. Their daughters as children and teenagers, on their wedding days and the birth of their grandchildren.

Tucked into the covers, Y/n smiled at the feeling of Bradley placing a kiss on her forehead. “You okay, doll?”

“I’m good,” she answered, leaning up to press her lips to his jaw. “Are you?”

“I am. More than what I thought I’d be. But you know,” his hand goes to take hers. “Having been so many years and with you by my side every day since, It’s made it easier. When I think about that night I still feel some guilt, but I don’t let it control me. Now when I have so much to live for. You, our daughters and grandchildren. Them.” He didn’t have to say their names for her to know who he was referring to.

Reuben, Javy, Mickey, Bob, Jake, Natasha, her father, her brother.

They didn’t get to experience the lives they should’ve had. So in their place, Y/n and Bradley live everyday like it’s their last. Making it count so when they reunite with them they’ll have plenty of stories to share.

“Me too,” she whispers, curling into him so her head rested on his chest. The gentle beat of his heart filled her ears, bringing ease to the old woman as she drifted off to sleep. Echoing the words Bradley spoke to her the night they docked in New York.

“We go on. We go on for them.”

54 years later. April 2012.

Amelia stared at the pictures lining the wall, under the giant lettering that read First-Class. Hazel eyes drifting over each, reading the words inscribed on the plaques before moving to the next. When she landed on the one she searched for, her gaze turned soft. The black and white picture depicted the woman at a young age, the most eye-catching detail being the heart-shaped diamond around her neck. A moment later Amelia felt movement on either side of her.

“Is that her, Nana?” Her granddaughter, Melody, asked from her right. On her left was Melody’s mother, Amelia’s daughter, Y/n. Named after the woman on the plaque in front of them.

“It is, darling.” Together they read the writing detailing her grandmother’s fate following April 15th, 1912.

Y/n L/n: February 14, 1890 — December 1, 1985

Daughter of New York real estate developer, Y/f/n L/n and his wife Y/m/n L/n. Set sail from Southampton with her parents and younger brother.

Boarded Titanic at age 21.

Passed away at age 95.

Married third-class passenger Bradley Bradshaw aboard Titanic on April 15, 1912 as she sank. Graduated NYU May 1912. Moved to Virginia Beach, Virginia. Two daughters. Published romantic thrillers and a best-selling autobiography. Returned to Titanic wreckage site at age 95 in October 1985. Died from heart failure two months later.

“Wow,” Melody breathed, letting her eyes admire the beautiful woman in the photograph. Her great-great grandmother. When the idea of going to the Titanic museum on the 100th anniversary of the wreck came to her for her school project, Melody had no idea of her linkage to the disaster until the night before when her grandma Amelia said she had a confession to tell her. The whole night was spent sitting in their hotel room with Amelia relaying the story her grandmother Y/n told her when she was 12 before revealing the events of April 15th when she was 18.

Amelia’s own daughter, named after the woman who made a lasting impact on her life, hadn’t heard the tale either. She was just as shocked as Melody to learn her great-grandparents were on Titanic when she sank.

Originally Melody’s idea for her project was to discuss the impact on society the disaster made. But after hearing the story of how her great-great grandparents fell in love aboard the ship, married while it sank, and reunited on Carpathia and lived their lives in memory of the ones they lost, Melody shifted her idea, Focusing on how even when all hope seems to be lost, love finds a way to break through.

“She was beautiful.”

“She was. My grandpa said she was the most beautiful person aboard,” Amelia chuckled. “Though I think his best friend Jake would say otherwise.” Natasha, her grandmother's best friend, came to mind. Amelia takes a moment to point out Natasha’s plaque where they read her unfortunate fate. “It was love at first sight—as cliché as it sounds, but it’s the truth. Four days was all it took for my grandparents to fall in love. Waiting every detail in her diary. Marrying during the moment everyone was in a panic.” Together the three women stepped over to the opposite side of the wall where the third-class survivor plaques were. There Amelia found her grandfather’s handsome face near the top.

Bradley Bradshaw: June 10th, 1889 — September 5th, 1985

Traveled to New York from Southampton with his friends from childhood. Only one to survive after being pulled from the water having climbed onto driftwood after Titanic fully submerged.

Boarded Titanic at age 21.

Passed away at age 96.

Married first-class passenger Y/n L/n aboard Titanic on April 15, 1912 as she sank. Moved to Virginia Beach, Virginia. Two daughters. Became a fighter pilot for US Navy 1914. Drafted into First World War 1915. Died in his sleep four days after the wreckage of Titanic was discovered 1985.

Amelia’s smile was bittersweet, “My mother told me shortly after I learned the full story that she discovered their secret when she found her mother’s ticket tucked away in a box of newspaper clippings about the wreck. NOt too long later my grandmother shared with her the diary detailing her first-hand experiences on Titanic. The night they told her was the first time they had told the story from start to finish—telling it once again the night my grandmother shared with my sister and I how they met. Only she left out the details of that night for the sake we were too young to understand,” Amelia paused, her gaze still on her grandfather’s image. “They told us the rest when I was eighteen. After that, I don’t think I ever heard them mention Titanic until the news broke out that the shipwreck had been discovered. Four days later, my grandfather died in his sleep. His heart just stopped,” Amelia went quiet after adding. “It was like he was waiting.”

Though quiet the entire time, Amerlia’s daughter Y/n was deep in thought. Thinking back to her childhood and the short ten years she got to spend with her great-grandparents. Having been named after Y/n, they two shared a connection and even got the chance to wear the beautiful diamond necklace she always had around her neck. Little Y/n had been shielded from the media attention the family was receiving in the months after Titanic’s discovery. First the death of Bradley, then the elderly Y/n went on a secret trip she had no idea was about. Ending the year by attending her funeral that winter.

Knowing what she did now, Y/n understood why her family reacted a certain way whenever the famous ship was ever mentioned in conversation.

Melody read over the information, frowning slightly. “Do you think she died of a broken heart? Your grandma?”

“Oh I’m certain,” Amelia traveled back a few paces to see Y/n’s plaque. Careful to not bump into other guests in the exhibit. The significance of the day brought many visitors to the museum.

“Being with someone for seventy-four years..how could she go on? My mother feared the journey to the wreck site would kill her, but my grandmother was adamant she’d go. She and my grandfather never believed they’d be alive to witness the ship be located. With his death four days after, my grandmother fulfilled an unspoken promise between them. So she went with my mother and aunt—ninety five years old remember, and saw the waters one last time. One thing you should know is my grandmother never crossed the Atlantic again after 1912. My grandfather did, because of the war, but I think Y/n was waiting until Titanic was located to travel the sea again. A part of her soul was left behind that night—losing the father she adored and her brother. Then you had my grandfather’s best friends.” She took another pause, hands moving to her pockets where she felt the leather bound diary.

Y/n’s diary.

The one she wrote in her will that was to be donated to the Titanic museum on April 15, 2012. Exactly 100 years to the day that the ship of dreams became one with the sea.

“Going to the site filled that final gaping hole in her. But the loss of her true love was too much for my grandmother. And so she passed in her sleep exactly three months to the day after Titanic was found.” Amelia removed the book from her pocket, hand softly touching the rough and dated surface of the leather. “Leaving me with this to fulfill some of her last wishes.”

“Is that…..” Melody leaned closer, her mother doing the same. Both were staring at the book with wonder and awe.

“Her diary,” the older woman confirmed their suspicions. “She wished for it to be donated here on the centennial anniversary,” Amelia gave her granddaughter a look, “I didn’t plan for you wanting to come here when I made sure to fulfill the promise. Having you two here is a bonus—especially now that you know everything.” Amelia could see in their eyes they were practically itching to open the book, wanting to see the contents that laid within.

Moving to a bench in the corner away from prying eyes, Amelia motioned for them to sit on either side of her. “The museum director is expecting me once we finish here so I must be careful with this. For preservation reasons, I’ll be the one to hold and turn the pages, but I’d love to share with you her words. And I know she would want the same,” glancing at the women, she received eager nods. “Alrighty then.”

Opening the cover, their eyes met the cursive writing that belonged to Amelia’s grandmother, her name in bold cursive, Y/n L/n. Amelia gently turned to the first page, dated one month before Titanic sailed on her maiden voyage.

“Monday, March 10, 1912. Father has come home with the news of his invitation to a conference in London next month. Not only has he informed my mother and I of his wishes for us to join him, but also he has purchased tickets for the White Star Line’s new vessel expected to set sail one month from today. They are calling her, Titanic…”

As Amerlia read off the words of her grandmother one last time, she wondered if her grandparents were back on the ship of dreams with their friends and family. Crossing the Atlantic in a place where time and space ceased to exist. Only the open ocean and the beautiful skies. Where Bradley was chasing a giggling Y/n down the corridors. Where Natasha got to live the life she dreamed with Jake. Their friends with them and Y/n’s family together at last.

It was a long wait full of patience. One seventy-four years in the making.

But as Y/n took her last breath on the night of December 1st, 1985, she was young and full of life, wearing the Heart of the Ocean as she ran to board the ship about to sail for a journey that would never end. Coming to the platform where a young Bradley stood, a spitting image of what he looked like the first time she laid eyes on him, his hand out for her to take. Behind him were the smiling faces of her family and friends—some of whom she hadn’t seen in seventy years, with the passengers of Titanic on the decks above. A beaming Natasha holding Jake’s hand, waving to Y/n as her children peeked from behind her legs.

Y/n locked eyes on her husband. The soulmate she had been without for three months. No words were spoken. Conversing everything they wanted to say in just the one look.

‘We’ve been waiting for ya, doll.’

‘I had to do something first.’

‘We know,’ a silent nod passes. ‘We were there with you.’ Gesturing his head to the ship as if to say, ‘You ready?’ Bradley stepped forward, hand still out for Y/n to take. Not even hesitating, Y/n grasped his warm palm in his, the feeling all too familiar as a spark of life shot through her chest.

Boarding Titanic together for the first and final time.

………………

TGM Tag List: @avaleineandafryingpan @caitsymichelle13 @poppyalice2001 @cutelittlepotatofry @luckyladycreator2 @americaarse @elenavampire21 @back-tooo-black @wildellaa

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itisbop · 9 months ago

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And now... the moment you've all been waiting for (or not, which is fine)! Let's talk Brawl Talk because OH BOY am I excited.

This is gonna be a pretty long post, so bear with me! I'll go over one section at a time and go over what I liked and disliked. Spoilers ahead! If you haven't watched the latest Brawl Talk, go do so! One more reminder, these are just my thoughts! You don't have to agree with me!

Without further to do... let's talk!

New Brawlers (Angelo and Melodie)

Now, when I first saw Angelo, I immediately went, "HE'S UGLY LMAO." After getting used to him, though, he's actually not that bad. His design is really good and is somewhat of an anti-cupid (perfect for a gal like Willow). Also, his voice actor did such a good job so much energy was put into him.

He doesn't seem like he's gonna be incredibly busted, but he is gonna be good in the right hands (while I'm at it pay your respects to Mortis Mains ya'll, they just took a major l with this guy). Sorry Larry and Lawrie, but you two are gonna have to step aside, I NEED this man as much as I need the next brawler.

I. LOVE. MELODIE!!! I did think she was a League of Legends character at first, lol.

Apparently, I've heard people say she is the first female assassin, which is very interesting! Out of the two, I feel she poses more of a threat. She might be broken, though her main attack is WEAK.

I've been through the Reddit and have seen so many people talk about how she looks like Janet, and I'd like to take the time to bring up a little theory... what if she was Janet and Bonnie's mom? I would go into this further, but we have to keep going!

Overall, I really like these two! Their designs are really good, and the character designers did a great job! Their pins and profile pictures show SO much personality! Expect some art of these two soon! However, if I may say something, I wish their skins were cooler. Why couldn't Angelo have a Sands of Time skin too? 😭

Speaking of Sands of Time...

Sands of Time and Ragnorok + Skins

Out of both seasons, I'm very hyped for Sands of Time. The "Sands of Time" is a very interesting concept that can be used very creatively. Can't wait to see what the animation brings! Though I think we all know why I'm hyped...

My best guest was that this skin was gonna be a Epic/Mythic skin, but a LEGENDARY?????? WHAT?????? Chuck fans we just fucking WON. I've seen the sneak peaks and heard his voice lines, Nicolai did an INCREDIBLE job as always. I'm am SO READY to go broke for this skin, but first, I must purchase some seasonal skins since they've been on my agenda for a while.

Loki Chester has to be the one I'm looking forward to getting the most for the Ragnorok seasons/skins. Plus, it's free! (If you have good luck).

Side note and honorable mention, Thor Bibi was just the icing on the cake for Bibi Mains this update. While I feel like a few more details could be added for this skin to make in truly "legendary," everything else about it great, including the voice acting! Poor Bull, he's the only one in his yet to get a Legendary Skin.

Ranked and The Report System

Okay, not related, but I love how they disses on the community a bit in this section, LOL. They know what, at least Reddit and Twitter are doing (and let's keep it that way, they don't need to know what's going on over here lol).

Anyways, while I'm excited (and scared) for Ranked with modifiers I wanna take this time to talk about a concern... the report system...

Now, I know there's a reason why we have 10 reports; but what's gonna stop so angry guy from reporting me if I didn't do anything? I feel like there's a chance this could backfire, that's all.

Hypercharges and Balance Changes

No Mortis or Poco hypercharge :(

Cordelius was definitely unexpected and very scary. Getting slowed in the shadow realm is a death sentence.

I wish Belle got a little more this update, but I'll take the hypercharge.

Move over Charlie, there's a new spider person in town, and he's a DINOSAUR.

Onto to balance changes. 84???? GOD DAMN. Adrien wasn't fucking around this update. Edgar is dead (and rightfully so FUCK HIM) and Doug might actually stand a chance in this Meta. I'll miss the days when Hypercharges were game breaking just for the community's rage, but it's probably for the greater good.

Whatever the Fuck the Random Skins Were

Now Primo Shark, I can take (though I'm definitely not gonna be able to take Baby Shark as a in game theme, I'm muting music for that entire time period). Pitcher Fang is a good skin too. Squeaky note is very... meh, but it's a rare skin so you can't expect much.

BUT POOP SPIKE.

POOP SPIKE.

What

the

FUCK?

It was tolerable until I saw the losing animation, and to that, I say EWWWWWWWWWW 🤮🤮🤮. WHYYYYY!?!?!? THAT'S SO NASTY!!!

I get that this is an April Fool's skin, but WHYYY THAT??? Thank GOD this skin is expensive. If I catch any of you with this skin, I'm gonna need to ask if you're okay. I don't wanna show a picture of this skin to you all, or else I'm pretty sure Tumblr would kick me to the curve. This is easily what I was least excited for for this update.

Overall Rating and Final Thoughts

Now, it's time to throw the final ratings on screen and say anything else that's on my mind.

New Brawlers - 9.5/10, definitely getting both! Let's hope they get some cool skins soon!

Sands of Time - 7/10, the concept and Chuck carry this season don't fight me on this. /j

Ragnorok - 6.5/10, I'm not as hyped, but I will grind for that Chester skin!

Ranked - 8/10, now I have a reason to actually play this mode. Hopefully, the report system is fair enough...

Hypercharges - 6.5/10, again not as hype, but I will be snatching that Belle Hypercharge since she's the only one out of the 6 I maxed out. She deserved more, though. :(

Balance Changes - 10/10, bye Edgar begone. F for the twins, however; I liked them.

Random Stuff - 3/10, not even Pitched Fang can save us from whatever the devs were on.

Overall Season 24/25 is...

8/10! (Poop Spike ruined it >:( )

And that's it. For those who have read to the end, thank you so much for heating me ramble it means so much. Expect some headcanons and more little theories soon (as in some time this week). Until then, ciao!

#brawl stars #speak no eve vil #see no eve vil #doodle #all brawlers

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tiannasfanfic · 2 years ago

Text

A Corroded Coffin Christmas

Eddie Munson x Reader (Angst)

| Paparazzi | Eddie & Steddie Masterlist | AO3 Link

Summary: A look at two different Christmas Eve's with Corroded Coffin front man, Eddie Munson, and his longtime partner, Y/N L/N; One near the beginning of their careers and one near the end.

Rating: General Audiences

Author Note: Gender neutral Reader, they/them pronouns. rockstar!Eddie Munson x Reader. A holiday blend of angst and fluff, with a dash of humor. This is a followup to "Paparazzi" but can be read as a standalone story.

CW: Social alcohol use; referenced character death (no details); grief; mentions of unpleasant medical diagnosis (no details or specific illness mentioned).

Word Count: 3,862

Eddie Munson Taglist: @eddie-swhore

Tuesday, December 24th, 1987

After Corroded Coffin finished their set at The Hideout, Eddie had one drink with the guys and then booked it home rather than stick around to hang out like he normally would.

Despite the fact that their normal gig night fell on Christmas Eve this year, you had insisted they hit the stage anyway.

“I can work on getting things done until you get back,” you told Eddie, gesturing around at the inside of the trailer. “But you need to be out there at the bar getting seen on the nights people expect to see you.”

Since you were technically their manager, and were speaking from that position right now, they couldn’t really argue.

What Eddie could do, however, is make sure he got home as quick as he could to help out. Luckily, the weather had been decent and there was hardly any traffic this late on Christmas Eve, so he got home fairly quickly. He was soon pulling into Forest Hills and parking next your car outside the trailer. It was just the two of you tonight since Uncle Wayne had volunteered to work for some double time in addition to holiday pay. Eddie quickly grabbed his guitar and amp out of the back of his van, then headed inside.

In the living room, Gremlins was playing on the tv, and it looked like you were about to start wrapping presents. You had cleared off a large space in the middle of the floor and had all the paper and supplies you needed out. He tucked his amp and guitar away in one corner of the room for the party tomorrow, then finally got his coat and shoes off. Since he hadn’t seen any sign of you by then, he began to wonder if you might need help finding all the presents.

As he started to make his way down the hall and got further away from the sound of the tv, he could hear you moving around in the bedroom. He was just passing by the bathroom when, out of nowhere, you started singing.

“Sleigh bells ring are you listening?” you sang. “In the land, snow is glistening.”

Eddie came to a stop outside the bedroom. Looking in, he could see you standing just inside the closet on a step stool, rummaging around on the top shelf with your back to the door. He smiled, not announcing his presence yet so he could listen in.

“A beautiful sight,” you continued singing, unaware of your audience. “But I’ll be happy tonight, when I find fucking packing tape.”

Eddie quickly put his hand over his mouth to stop himself from laughing. Now he wanted to stay quiet to hear how this updated version went.

“Gone away is the bluebird,” you sang, a slightly irritated tone creeping into your voice now as you started searching a different section of the shelf. “Here to stay is a new bird, but he can move along, with his happy little song, until I find the fucking packing tape.”

Eddie clenched his lips tightly together behind his hand.

“In the meadow, we can build a snowman,” you sang as you came down the stepladder and set it aside, your back still to the door. “We'll pretend that he is Parson Brown. He'll say, ‘Are ya wrapping?’ I’ll say, ‘No man, but you can do the job if you want to clown."

Along with keeping in the tune of Winter Wonderland, what made this whole thing absolutely perfect was how your tone just got progressively more annoyed sounding the further you got into the song, which matched the lyrics you were improvising as you were singing.

“Later on, I’ll conspire,” you sang, bending down to pick up some blankets to replace them back on the shelf. “As I dream by the fire, to face unafraid, the mess that I’ve made, trying to find the fucking packing tape.”

By this point, Eddie’s shoulders were starting to shake as he tried to keep quiet. He was leaning against the doorframe with his free hand as if for balance.

“In the meadow, we can build a snowman,” you continued singing, your hands now on your hips, looking around in the closet from where you were standing. “We'll pretend that he is Parson Brown. He'll say, ‘Are ya done yet?’ I’ll say, ‘No, man! But you and I are about to go a couple rounds!’"

You started to turn around, and Eddie ducked to the side, standing just out of sight next to the door.

“Later on, I’ll conspire,” you sang, and your voice started traveling towards the other side of the room away from the closet. “As I dream by the fire, to face unafraid, the mess that I made, trying to find the fucking packing tape.”

When you didn’t continue after a few seconds, Eddie peeked around the corner to see you rummaging through one of the dresser drawers. He grinned, stepped into the room finally and started clapping.

Startled, you jumped into an upright position, and whirled around. Seeing Eddie, you chuckled and bowed to him.

“Thank you, thank you,” you said, standing and then bowing again to the other side of the room. “I’m here all week. Try the barbecue special and don’t forget to tip the wait staff.”

Eddie laughed, shaking his head as he made his way across the room to you. Coming to stand in front of you, he took your face in his hands and softly kissed you.

“How was the show?” you asked once he had pulled away.

“Really good, actually!” Eddie said, then beamed. “We had about a dozen drunks tonight!”

A bright smile lit up your face.

“That’s awesome!” you said, hugging him tightly. “I was hoping for that. The holidays can be really hard for some people and bars always see an uptick in profits this time of year.”

“I swear,” Eddie said, returning your hug just as tightly, then pulled back a little to gaze at you fondly. “Beauty, brains and sexy as fuck? I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

You laughed, a soft blush coloring your cheeks as you let him go to turn back to the dresser.

“Not that many brains tonight, I’m afraid,” you said, as you started hunting through the drawer again. “Have you seen that three pack of packing tape I bought the other day? It ran off on me.”

Since you needed the packing tape in order to box up a few presents before wrapping them, you were at a standstill until it could be found.

Even though Eddie started to help you look for it, it took a little over half an hour before the tape was found.

You both felt like idiots when you realized it had been sitting in the middle of the coffee table, in plain sight, the entire time.

Tuesday, December 24th, 2013

“Thank you, Indianapolis!!! You’ve been amazing!”

The decibel level inside The Vogue Theater surged to new heights as Eddie spoke to the crowd. Even standing just off stage to watch the show like you normally did, you had to cover your ears at the noise.

One of these days, you would remember to start wearing earplugs.

It was the end of another successful concert, the final stop on a small, ten city tour called A Corroded Coffin Christmas. Since the tour focused on smaller venues than the ones of old, they were cozy and intimate in comparison, though still large and respectable in their own right.

After their episode of Behind the Music aired in 2006, the band had enjoyed a major resurgence in popularity. That special launched Corroded Coffin even more into the mainstream than even the movie soundtrack they had done several years prior. Everyone wanted them now. While the guys jumped from network to network doing guest appearances, their old albums saw a new surge in sales. New albums became instant successes, soaring through the charts like never before. Venue directors and festival organizers were regularly contacting you to book them for gigs, not to mention all of the invitations to PR events and award shows. Even this tour had been an enormous success, with every single show selling out within hours of the tickets going on sale, a new record for the guys

Everything you all worked so hard for had finally come true. All five of you were finally living your dream lives. It was perfect.

Well. Almost.

The man who set it all in motion wasn’t there to celebrate with you.

In 2005, Corroded Coffin’s longtime manager, Joe Reed, unexpectedly passed away.

Over the last twenty-two years since that chance meeting at a dive bar in Indianapolis, Joe had become a proper father figure to you all. Already a veteran in management when he became Corroded Coffin’s manager, he was truly one of the good ones. In an industry where most managers were employed by the labels themselves in order to look out for their own self-interests, Joe always put his client’s needs first. He refused to work directly for any label because of that, preferring to stay independently employed even if it meant having fewer clients. The clients he did have were more like family to him and he treated them as such. While at times there was only so much he could do when the executives had terrible ideas, such as when the first label wanted you and Eddie to end your relationship, he always tried to deescalate the situation as much as possible.

But it wasn’t just the guys who felt the loss. Over the years, you and Joe had also grown very close. Since you were so involved with the band, he always considered you apart of it just as much as the guys did. Impressed with the work you had done managing the band with absolutely no experience, Joe took you under his wing as soon as you all moved to Los Angeles. He was an amazing mentor, keeping you involved in the management of Corroded Coffin from day one.

Sometimes the death of a good manager can spell certain doom for a band. But, in this case, at the time of Joe’s passing, he had a clear successor. You were easily able to step back into the managerial role with no fuss. It was a seamless transition, for both the band and the label.

However, regardless of how much the label trusted you with the management of Corroded Coffin, you still had to talk them into it when the guys wanted to do an album full of heavy metal versions of classic holiday songs.

Despite the fact the guys only planned to adapt non-denominational songs and write a couple new ones for it, heavy metal covers were a pretty niche market at that point. The executives couldn’t see how an album like that could ever be popular. But after you pointed out how some executives said the same thing about the Trans-Siberian Orchestra at first, AND Metallica’s S&M, they decided to give it some more thought.

Ultimately, considering neither Joe nor you ever steered them wrong, they green lit the album, allowing the guy’s full creative control over the project.

And, once again, the worries of the executives were for nothing. The album was an enormous success. The fans absolutely loved it.

Initially, a holiday tour wasn’t anything that had been considered since touring during the holidays can sometimes be a logistical nightmare. But after both Jeff and Gareth’s wife received some shocking news from their respective doctors, it became clear the band would need to take an indefinite hiatus soon. Before that happened, Jeff suggested they hit the road together one last time.

The tour kicked off on December 1st with a very relaxed schedule, allowing plenty of time between each show to give Jeff enough time to properly rest since he tired easily. The ten cities were personally chosen by the band from some of their favorite stops. Indianapolis was the final destination since everyone always came back here during the holidays to visit family and friends. Nick’s oldest, Ronny, toured with the band as a backup guitarist in case Jeff needed to sit out for any of the shows, which he ended up doing for two out of the ten.

Now it was Christmas Eve, the last tour about over.

There was just one more song to play, a solo encore Eddie had specially planned for tonight’s show. You actually had no idea what he was up to, which meant it was something new he wrote for you. Eddie liked to do that sometimes, surprise you at a concert with a new song. Luckily, he never tried to get you on stage, content just to look over at you where you stood offstage. The crowd ate it up every single time. They never grew tired of Eddie talking about you during concerts.

Once the four took their bows and said goodbye to the audience, Eddie stepped back up to the microphone as the other three headed off stage.

“Let’s hear it one more time for Nick, Jeff and Gareth!”

When you didn’t think it was possible for the crowd to get any louder, they proved you wrong.

After another round of hugs offstage with you, Nick and Ronny accompanied Jeff back to the dressing room while Gareth stayed with you to watch the end of the show.

“Tonight, I thought I’d do a little something different for our encore,” Eddie said, pausing as he took the strap of the guitar from around his neck to gaze out into the crowd. “If that’s alright with you all?”

The response from the crowd indicated they were more than okay with it.

Two stagehands came out at that point to swap Eddie’s electric guitar for one of his acoustics, then set up a tall wooden stool and guitar mic for him. Once Eddie took a seat on the stool, they made sure both mic stands were at the proper height, then made their way off stage.

“That was Dave and Bill, part of our fantastic road crew. I don’t know what we would do without them. Let’s hear it for Dave and Bill!”

The crowd went just as crazy for Dave and Bill as they did for the band.

Gareth threw his arm over your shoulders to pull you in for a friendly half hug. You wrapped your arm around his waist in kind. The two of you stood like that, heads tilted towards one another to lean against each other in that way close friends have.

“Now, for our final song of the night,” Eddie said, softly strumming the guitar in no discernible rhythm. “I’m going to play you something that is brand new.”

The crowd liked the sound of that.

“In fact, it’s so new that it has never been recorded or even played live before.”

The crowd definitely liked the sound of that.

“But!” Eddie said and stopped his strumming to hold up a finger. “Not only that, but this song also comes with a story.”

The crowd went wild. If there was one thing audiences loved more than music, it was the stories that sometimes came with them. This was something Corroded Coffin fans especially enjoyed since Eddie could make a trip down to the corner store sound like an epic adventure.

Once Eddie began telling his story, the audience was enthralled.

“As I’m sure some of you know,” Eddie said. “Last year, my unc-“

He had to stop then for a moment, his eyes shifting down to the stage before closing. You could see him starting to take some deep breaths.

The venue was so quiet, you could’ve heard a pin drop.

Finally, Eddie lifted his gaze back to the crowd.

“Rather, my dad, passed away.”

You and Gareth exchanged curious, yet worried, glances.

This was the first time Eddie had spoken publicly about Uncle Wayne since his passing. With both of his father figures now gone, he had spent much of the last year feeling lost and alone. Some days were better than others, but there was a lot of healing to do still. You both were looking forward to being out of the spotlight again, had even been talking of suggesting one to the guys even before all the sad news came down.

As much as you wanted some time away from the business, you wished it could’ve come under better circumstances.

“After that, Y/N and I spent quite a bit of time down in Hawkins,” Eddie said, continuing his story. “While we were sorting through everything in the house, I discovered he’d hung onto a few boxes of my stuff that I had left behind when we moved up here to the big city.” He half grinned at the audience. “He actually held onto all of this crap for over twenty years. Parents, am I right?”

This got a chuckle out of the audience, as well as you and Gareth.

“I finally got around to going through them a couple months back, and in one box was about a dozen notebooks filled with songs I wrote a long time ago but forgot about.”

At this point, the crowd went wild.

“Don’t get excited, most of these were just badly written love songs to Y/N,” Eddie continued, then had to pause as the crowd cheered again. “Trust me, they are absolutely horrible, you wouldn’t want to hear them.”

The crowd disagreed and made this known, which made Eddie grin.

“However, there was one song in particular I’d written down that caught my eye. Funnily enough though, it wasn’t me that wrote it. It was Y/N.”

The crowd made noises of curiosity as Gareth looked down at you.

“I didn’t know you wrote a song,” he said.

“I didn’t either,” you replied, chuckling.

Now your curiosity was definitely piqued. It was like Eddie sensed this, as he looked over at you two just then and mischievously winked.

“Now, Y/N probably doesn’t remember writing this song,” he continued into his mic. “I know I didn’t at first. But once I read it, everything came back to me.”

The crowd was happy to hear this.

And so, Eddie proceeded to tell the story of your last Christmas in Hawkins.

Since the five of you had the move to Indianapolis planned just a few weeks into the new year, you wanted to do something with your friends in Hawkins before you left. So, on Christmas Day, you and Eddie were hosting a party.

But, in true Y/N and Eddie fashion, while the two of you were tremendously excited about the party you were throwing, you put everything off until it was almost too late, including what little shopping you could afford.

Technically, it was your fault this year for putting it off. You had gotten so distracted with planning a move for people that you had completely forgotten about Christmas until two days beforehand.

As Eddie told the story, the memories of the night floated up to the surface in your mind.

That Christmas Eve had been so hectic.

While you insisted that the band play their show like any other Tuesday, you were in a panic as soon as Eddie left for The Hideout. You had no idea how even the two of you together were going to get everything done, much less you working at it by yourself for a few hours. There was so much left to do still, like cleaning and wrapping presents, plus everything in between.

But the more you thought back on it, the more confused you got. You barely had the time to remember your own name at the time, much less write a song.

“After the show, I hightailed it back to the trailer,” he said. “Y/N was back in the bedroom and, luckily for all of us, didn’t hear me get home. If they had, then I wouldn’t have been treated to their own personal rendition of Winter Wonderland.”

Now you were really wracking your brain. You couldn’t remember singing anything either.

Eddie began strumming his guitar again, this time playing the chords of the aforementioned holiday song.

“Now, at first, when they started singing it,” he continued. “It sounded like the normal version. You all know the one.”

The crowd indicated they did.

“But I quickly realized that this wasn’t the case. Luckily for all of us though, later that night, I remembered to write it down I wouldn’t forget about it. Which I did anyway.”

Eddie shrugged sheepishly and grinned, earning laughs from the crowd, you, and Gareth.

Then he turned to look over at you and Gareth, his playful grin softening into a warm smile at the sight of his soulmate and one of men he considered a brother.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” he said. “I love you.”

It took a while before Eddie could even start the song. The crowd went absolutely insane at his words of affection for you. Finally, the crowd quieted down enough so he could begin.

He started the song over on his guitar, playing the beginning as a long intro before stepping back up to the mic and starting to sing.

Sleigh bells ring, are you listening?

In the land, snow is glistening.

A beautiful sight,

But I’ll be happy tonight

When I find the fucking packing tape.

Your laughter joined Gareth’s and the crowds as the more of the memories of that Christmas Eve came back to you.

While you still couldn’t remember singing, you now remembered losing the packing taping and how aggravated you had been as you tore apart the bedroom looking for it.

In the end, everything had worked out. Once Eddie got home, and the packing tape had been found, the rest of night was easy. He got more of your list done while you wrapped presents, and you got to bed way earlier than expected. All your worry had been for nothing, everything turned out beautifully on Christmas Day just as Eddie assured you it would.

As Eddie got to the final lines of the song, the crowd was singing along to the part about finding the packing tape.

Once the music trailed off with the final notes, the noise in The Vogue Theater rose in a satisfied clamor. Eddie took a bow, then gestured offstage to where you were standing.

“Let’s hear it for Y/N!” he yelled into the microphone.

The noise became deafening as the crowd showed you their appreciation. Eddie took a step back from the mic, letting his guitar hang from his neck as he joined the applause.

Eddie grinned over at you, and you couldn’t help but grin back, your face a bright shade of red.

Even though he was trying to make this moment about you, you couldn’t help but be severely proud of all five of you right then.

Tonight marked the end of an era, but tomorrow one would begin anew.

You could only hope this one would be much kinder to you all.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson one shot #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar!eddie #eddie munson fanfiction

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tala-bez-i · 6 months ago

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At first sight Chapter Eight

(m!reader x Bonten!Haruchiyo Sanzu)

Fluff/slash/reader is male/cursing/BontenTimeline/drugs and alcohol mentioned/violence/blood/death

All characters that appeared in the Tokyo Revengers manga and anime belong to Ken Wakui.

Words: 3461

(Author's note: This is the third chapter this week… but due to the long weekend, I decided to write as many chapters as I can to be ready for publication during the new week. The next chapter will appear on Wednesday. Thank you for the likes and reblogs so far. They mean a lot to me 😚 )

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You opened the door to Kakucho's office more violently than you intended and rushed inside, holding the folder you were supposed to bring in your hand. “Sorry... I met Sanzu on the way....”

“It's okay, Y/n. I'm glad you brought Fuku with you. It was the right decision.” Kakucho said calmly and pointed to a pot of fresh tea that must have been brought by one of the girls in the hideout. “A cup of tea?”

“Yes, please.” Before you closed the door, you made sure no one was in the hall. You turned to the surprised men and cleared your throat. “Yata will have to stay.”

“But I can't. Akira…”

“Akira knows I took you somewhere.” You interrupted the young man, walked over to the desk and handed the folder over to its original owner.

“Oh shit… How does the boss know?” His face paled and his eyes widened.

“Sanzu told me.”

“And how did Sanzu know?” Kakucho became interested, putting aside the report he had just picked up.

“Akira recognized me and called Sanzu to complain to him that I took one of his men because…” You shot Miyata a quick glance. “Not a word to anyone, do you understand?”

“I-I understand, but... What is it?” The boy looked confused, and his eyes moved from you to Kakucho and back again.

“Akira thinks I took you to have fun with you.” You said, sitting down on the empty chair.

"To have fun with me? But how do you, boss, could have fun with me?”

Kakucho became slightly confused at your words before turning his head, a small smile appearing on his face. You watched him, lips pursed. You simply couldn't believe how a person who was around whores every day and worked directly for a pimp could not know what kind of fun he was talking about. After all, he asked if you came there because you wanted a prostitute.

You looked at him. “Are you serious now, Yata?”

The boy blinked several times and suddenly his face turned red. “The boss doesn't seem to mean…” His voice wasn't clear, but he seemed to be starting to realize what his employer had accused you of. “Boss! But, oh no!”

“Akira suggested it, not me. Sorry, kid, but it looks like your boss thinks you like to fuck for money..." You shrugged and Kakucho let out a laugh that he couldn't hold back anymore. “I don't care, because it doesn't make much difference to me whether my sexual partner has a cunt or a dick... But you, Yata, I think you're already burned.”

“Boss, you can't do that! Boss Kakucho, please say something in my defense!” The young man's voice was shaking with emotion, and the first tears appeared in his eyes. “I'm not like that!”

Kakucho shook his head and took a few deep breaths to calm down. His cheeks were slightly flushed, which showed that despite the ridicule of the situation and so many years of using the services of prostitutes, the topic of sex is an area that he considers something serious.

“Don't worry, Yata.” He said, still amused. “Y/n won't get your ass.”

“Boss promises? Boss L/n?” The boy looked at you worried.

“You're pretty, Miyata, but not my type.” You assured him and reached for the cup of tea prepared for you. "Don't worry. I will pay triple for your service, just like Sanzu told Akira...” You looked at Kakucho with a serious face. “Which, on the one hand, will give us an alibi…” You moved your gaze to the hot drink that smelled tempting. “But then Akira will expect the same from you as from the girls…”

“I will absolutely give him back to Akira.” Number three spoke. “I'll arrange it so that Akira gets more money for Miyata, but we will put the boy to work for Shion.”

“Huh? Um, Boss Kakucho? Boss L/n?” The boy looked even more confused.

You nodded, ignoring Fuku squirming in his chair. “It's a thought, but why Madarame?”

“He wants a few girls in the club, so he's looking for someone to watch over them.” He glanced at the black-haired boy. “Not in the form of a bodyguard, of course. Yata has almost no muscles, but as a companion. Akira’s bitches praise him.”

“Do you want to make him a mascot?” You asked, taking a small sip of your tea. It was delicious as usual.

“Yata is already a mascot.” Kakucho looked at the flustered one. "What do you think? You tell us everything you know and we will get you a quiet job with Madarame.”

“Boss Kakucho, Boss L/n! This is the most wonderful thing that happened to me! Yes! Everything except working for Akira..." The young man said quickly, his eyes sparkling with joy.

“So, you will commit treason to improve your living conditions?” You laughed softly and Yata held his breath.

“Don't scare him, Y/n. This is not betrayal. This is the right decision, Miyata.” Kakucho calmed him down and returned to the reports he had on his desk. “Let's start over, shall we? At lunchtime, Mochi will provide us with his folder and we can all compare our observations together. From what I know, he has tracked down two other pimps who are in cahoots with Kudora.”

You shrugged and used small tongs to hand Yata the cookie. “Welcome aboard, kid.”

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You listened to what the black-haired youth had to say and felt an increasing dislike for Hachirou Kuroda. It seemed that Kitty was the only one who died because of the knowledge she had about her pimp's shady dealings. The rest of the girls - you still didn't know how many there really were - died because their clients indulged in way too much and it resulted in the poor women being no longer good for anything.

You understood that everyone had different sexual preferences, but burning and cutting the skin in various places on the body was too much. It was no longer sex, but the most ordinary torture in the world, which Akira should never have allowed.

Yata confessed that the pimp saw each of the girls who returned to him in a sorry state and instead of immediately reporting the problem with the customers, he preferred to take larger sums of money from them and kill the girls or simply ordered his men to do it.

The boy again admitted to disposing of the bodies of the three dead girls. He described their injuries because Akira was taking clothes and jewelry that belonged to prostitutes. He ordered them to be taken to the forests and before they were covered with earth, they had to be poured with various flammable substances and set on fire. The same substances could never have been used, otherwise if the police discovered the remains, they could easily link them.

Usually, you weren't moved by such confessions, because you yourself had desecrated corpses many times, but... One description was too extreme for you. Even Mochi had to reach for the whiskey, and you've never seen such murderous intent in Kakucho's eyes.

Yes, none of you were saints. You have done many bad things, even very bad things. Hanma once took a debtor's daughter and gave her to a brothel so that she could work off her father's debt but had good living conditions. You also knew about families murdered on order, including children, but... Forcing a pregnant girl into prostitution because you found a client who wished so... And then allowing a situation in which the girl was hanging by her hands from the ceiling for several days, only to end up in a dug hole in the forest...

You wanted to skin Akira and rub salt into his wounds. You were sure Sanzu would happily join in.

“Son of a bitch… Just a son of a bitch.” Mochi growled after your second glass of liquor, and you wished you had drunk the alcohol yourself. “I thought the two I found were fuckers, but no. L/n must have found a better one.”

“Kakucho came across him.” You corrected your friend, but he waved it off. “Do we need evidence or will the testimony of Yata and the whores be enough?”

“Who is Akira's clientele?” Kakucho asked, frowning.

“Various guys and probably even two women... But all in all, they all had a lot of money.” The young man replied and Kakucho cursed fiercely.

“So it's a serious matter. We cannot afford to lose such funding sources.”

"So? What we do?" You asked quietly, looking towards the window where dark, rainy clouds were gathering. “Do we investigate the remaining pimps more thoroughly or report what we already have to Kisaki and Hanma?”

“I want Mikey to know everything first.” Kakucho said after a while. “He may not be interested in Sato, but I don't think he'd ignore such shenanigans.”

“Let's check the ones I mentioned and then we'll turn over the combined files to Mikey.” Mochi lit a cigarette. He inhaled deeply and exhaled, looking around for an ashtray. “I don't give a damn whether he's interested in these whores or not. He can't let these bastards do this. If the police find out about it, everyone will pay for it. The whole business will go to hell.”

“Mochi is right.” You spread your hands and crossed your legs. “Our beloved leader must express his opinion on this matter.”

“Okay, we'll do that. I'll have to mention this to Sanzu too. Still, he's number two." Kakucho nodded and started organizing his reports. “That everything had to get so fucked up. Kuroda was one of the most trusted pimps.”

You looked out of the corner of your eye at Yata, who was sitting in silence, eating cookies that were lying on a tray with cold, forgotten by everyone tea in a pot.

“Eat normally.” You said quietly and the boy looked down at his pants, which were covered in cookie crumbs.

“Sorry, boss…” He said and started collecting crumbs on a plate.

Madarame will wipe the floor with him. - You thought and your mood improved slightly.

“Yata, do you know who is the best person to talk to from Nagasawa and Nagano?” Mochi suddenly asked, turning towards the boy. “They have someone like you?”

“Huh? Someone like me?” He thought for a moment and involuntarily dropped the crumbs he had managed to pick up from his pants onto the carpet. "Let me think... I know Nagasawa had a girlfriend whom he didn't allow to have sex with his clients... But he didn't hide his business from her... And Nagano... Nagano..." He scratched his head and shrugged... “Sorry, Boss Mochi, but Nagano has a man everyone calls Yuu, but I have no idea who he is. I've never seen the guy in person."

“Okay, what about this girl?”

Yata smiled brightly, his tone strangely soft. “Junko Yoshioka.”

You raised one eyebrow and started looking at the boy. “You, kid. Are you sure he didn't let her shag his clients?”

“I wasn't a customer.” He replied to you with a wide smile and froze, his expression immediately dropping and his face turning red. “Sorry, boss…”

“I have no further questions, thank you.” You clicked your tongue, reaching for the last cookie on the plate and popping the whole one into your mouth, biting it thoughtfully.

There was silence in the room for a moment, everyone was busy thinking about what steps to take in this matter. Thanks to Kakucho and Mochi... and Yata, you almost solved the whole case of the prostitute murders. But you had a strange feeling that...

“I'll take care of Yoshioka and let L/n find this Yuu guy.” Mochi said and Kakucho nodded, completely agreeing with him.

That's right, you knew it would be like this. Find a guy that neither of you have seen in person and don't know the real personal details.

“Thank you, Mochi.” You muttered softly, looking away from the man.

“Something wrong?” The other asked, looking at you from the corner of his eye.

"No no. Of course not." You denied, then an idea popped into your head and you looked at him. “Maybe the rest know something more about this Yuu?”

“Like who?”

“Haitanis? Ran likes to use the services of girls and does it more often than Rindou.” You suggested, playing with your tie. “Maybe even Sanzu heard something…”

“Aren't you the one who gets him whores?” Mochi asked as he poured himself another glass of whiskey.

You pursed your lips, staring at Kakucho's desk. “Yes, I usually get him girls. But Sanzu is a big boy, and I don't live with him, so when he feels like it, he calls for services himself.”

“I'm just asking.” Mochi shrugged. “You can try, but I don't know what time they will return from their trip. That damn Sato is pretty bummed out somewhere.”

“Maybe Takeomi will know something. He used to sleep with girls from Nagano.” He mentioned Kakucho and looked at the folder you had brought earlier. “I'll give it back to you so that if anything happens, Kisaki won't bother you.”

You nodded, took the paper folder from him and stood up from the chair. “I think we can call it a day. Each of us has a task, so... Let's do what needs to be done and get this over with."

"Right." Mochi drained his glass and after saying goodbye to all of you, he left the room.

“Come on, Miyata.” Kakucho said as he stood up from behind his desk. “I will take you to your new room and give the girls some instructions regarding your hospitality.”

The young man quickly got up from his chair and you both followed Kakucho into the corridor. “Good luck, Y/n.” He smiled slightly at you and walked away down the hall towards the guest rooms.

“See you later, Boss L/n!” Yata waved at you and quickly followed the retreating man.

“Fuck…” You cursed as you headed back to your bedroom. “How will I find this guy?”

You turned the key in your door, went inside and walked to the desk, onto which you lightly threw the folder with the completed reports. You took off your jacket, untied your tie and unbuttoned the top two buttons of your shirt.

You looked at your watch and it took you a moment to realize that you hadn't heard from Sanzu for eight hours. Nothing special, but you only had such a long break in contact when each of you was sleeping in your own beds... Still, you didn't feel anxious. He wasn't completely alone after all, and you were able to get some rest.

You lit a cigarette and walked to the window. You looked up at the sky and were relieved to see that the clouds had not thickened. Maybe it won't rain after all.

You liked the rain, but you didn't like hearing the complaints of a soaked Sanzu. You laughed quietly, after all, there was no certainty that you would see each other again today. Maybe neither of you will have the time or even the strength for it...

You took a long drag on your cigarette and flicked the ash into the ashtray. You had at least four people you could try asking about that damn Yuu, and you hoped that one of them knew something about this guy. At least one piece of information... Maybe it will be easier to find him.

Sure, you could always stalk Nagano, but you wouldn't know which of his assholes was Yuu.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw movement on the garden path and looked in that direction, seeing a petite woman accompanied by a tall man with dark hair slicked back.

“Look at this.” You smiled to yourself as you watched Rosie and Takeomi. From a distance, you could see that they were having a calm conversation and clearly enjoying each other's company. Then the thought popped into your head that maybe Rosie knew Yuu or one of the girls who were currently in the hideout. Rosie was like a brothel mom to them here. "It is worth a try."

You stubbed out your cigarette and barely made it back inside when someone knocked on your door. You stopped dead in the middle of your bedroom. "Who's there?"

“It's me, Miki... Yata-chan would like to talk to you again.” One of the prostitutes answered you and you went to the door to open it.

Yata-chan?

You looked surprised at the slim girl who was pulling the hand of Miyata, who was hiding behind the door frame. “He's a bit shy, isn't he?”

"A bit." You looked at the boy who kept looking over his shoulder down the hall. “Come in. Thanks, Miki. Come back for him in half an hour.”

The girl smiled even wider at you and, pushing the boy into your bedroom, she began to walk away almost with a dance step - just like usual.

You closed the door and looked at Yata, frowning. "What's up?"

"I'm sorry, boss, when we were walking here, I thought I saw Hanma... I don't want to run into him..." The black-haired man said quietly and rubbed his arm nervously.

"I see. What else did you want to talk about?”

“In Boss Kakucho's office, Boss Mochi mentioned Sato's name…” He swallowed and squeezed his forearm. “I shouldn't eavesdrop... But... Maybe it's about Mr. Sato from Hot Cherry?”

You winced at the mention of the old nightclub name, but confirmed. “How do you know about him? Have you been to this club?”

“I was there once with Akira... He sold one of the girls to him.” He shrugged and then added more quietly. “I don't like that bitch... Mina would sell her own mother if she had the chance.”

You raised an eyebrow at the mention of the girl and decided not to tell the boy what happened to her. So, Sato and Akira were... or still are, in business together. You will need to pass this information on to Haitanis and Sanzu.

“I have some information for you, Yata.” The boy looked at you interested. “You will be at this club more often. It is already ours and has been handed over to Madarame, with whom you will work.”

"Seriously?! Oh, Boss L/n!” Miyata's hands shot towards you, but he pulled them back at the last moment. "It's wonderful! The club was nice, but the name and owner sucked.”

You walked over to the desk and reached for a pack of cigarettes. You still had a few minutes before Miki would come back for the boy. "You smoke?"

“No, boss. Smoking harms your health."

“Fucking prostitutes doesn't guarantee health either.”

“I'm using protection…” The man muttered, blushing slightly.

You looked at him and shook your head, sighing slightly. “Where did you come from, Miyata, huh?”

The other shrugged, turning even redder. “I know I'm a shitty gangster... But I grew up in a poor neighborhood and I don't know anything else.”

“Can you fight?”

"I can." Yata smiled and lifted his shirt slightly, showing you his slightly muscled stomach, with two long scars on it. “I even got stabbed twice.”

You nodded in approval, thinking that maybe Fuku Miyata wasn't so bad after all. Everyone cries sometimes, but... He wasn't crying for no reason, he was just afraid for his life, and you didn't necessarily assure him that he was in no danger.

He lowered his shirt and looked slightly confused again. Suddenly he bowed deeply and said in a serious tone. “Thank you, Boss L/n. For taking me away from Akira and giving me a second chance.”

You looked at him slightly surprised and shook your head, a soft smile appearing on your lips. “The decision wasn't just mine. You don't seem bad, and you made the right decision. You deserve another chance.”

There was a soft knock on the door and the boy straightened up. “I guess that's my guard.” He joked and Miki opened the door. A smile appeared on her lips again.

"You can go." You patted the young man on the shoulder and the girl grabbed his wrist, pulling him into the hallway.

“Come, come, Yata-chan. Let Mr. L/n work.” She laughed and you were left alone.

You closed the door behind them and returned to your small desk, where you sat down. You leaned back in your chair and looked at the ceiling. I wonder if Sanzu knows about Sato and Akira's connection.

You heard single, gentle knocks on the glass and looked out the window. It looked like Sanzu was going to get a little wet after all.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x y/n #male reader #tokyo revengers haruchiyo sanzu #haruchiyo sanzu #haruchiyo sanzu x reader

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daydreamingfuel · 2 years ago

Text

Freak Like Me

Chapter 3

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

AO3 // previous // next

Y/N has just moved to Hawkins from England with her parents and is starting at the high school in the final term of her senior year. Eddie immediately takes a liking to her and they become fast friends, deciding to take her under his wing and falling to her charms. This is Hawkins however and things are never quite as they seem...

WHOLE FIC TAGS & WARNINGS: gratuitous use of Y/N (I'm not sorry), friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, eventual smut, semi-fix-it-fic, angst, injury, canon dialogue and events used, canon graphic violence, no main character death :)

Chapter Tags & Warnings: a hell of a lot of angst, Chrissy gets vecna'd, hurt some comfort, intense flirting with little payoff, daddy issues get worse??

Chapter Word Count: 7.8k

A/N - I apologise in advance, this hurt me to write too so don't yell at me

The days that passed were much the same, the days quickly turned to weeks, and over the month and weeks that they knew each other and grew closer, they had developed a smooth routine. Eddie picking her up for school; lunch with Hellfire; sneaking off to the table in the woods for a smoke and gratuitous but harmless flirting; studying, D&D prep and dinner at either the Y/L/N house or the trailer. On the days Eddie worked and Y/N had a shift at the bakery she managed to land a part-time job at, she would take a coffee and a pastry to him at the record shop so they could have lunch together, quickly learning he forgets to eat between customers and is grumpy the morning after. But Friday night, Hellfire night, was the best. It wasn’t at first, however. The older boys in the group had their grievances, of course, Y/N walking in on them voicing their distaste to Eddie before her first session with the group.

“C’mon, man! She’s gonna ruin it for the rest of us.” Jeff groaned in annoyance, sinking into his seat at the table and glaring at his Dungeon Master.

Gareth harumphed in agreement and spouted his own disapproval, “She’s never played before, this is gonna be shit! This is supposed to be your big final campaign before finals! Just because you’ve got a stupid crush on her doesn’t mean that we have to-”

Eddie's hands slam down on the table. “Enough!” The boys shrunk back in their seats at his sudden raised voice, before his furious gaze locked onto his best friends, “Unless either of you wants your perfectly crafted characters to suffer a fate worse than death in the most horrific ways I can possibly think of I will not have another bad word said about Y/N joining the party. Am I understood?”

“Understood.” They both said, in slight fear at Eddie's rage.

“Understood,” Y/N echoed from the doorway having overheard the whole thing, sparing the boys a glare of her own before sending Eddie a wink and taking her place at the table.

Y/N, despite having a truly horrible first attempt at playing, fell in love with the game, especially once she was the only one who could save them at the end of their first session and won the boys around. She quickly got into the swing of things, returning home from sessions buzzing with anticipation of the next session. Try as she might to get even a small clue about the progression of the story he was crafting, she couldn’t get a word out of Eddie. Not when she brought him freshly baked cookies and let him ramble for hours on end about future campaign ideas. Or when she would excitedly go over her notes in the van on the way back home after a session, hoping that he would let something slip but he never did.

He saw through her every time, “Sorry darlin’ you ain’t getting shit from me.”

“But Eds…” she would whine and close her notebook in a huff, making him laugh, “just something little, basically insignificant. Please, Eddie?”

She made him weak, but not weak enough, “Nice try sweetheart.”

The man took his role as Dungeon Master seriously, and it definitely paid off. Eddie truly came to life when he was DM’ing, and the sessions allowed for an escape Y/N had never had. Not to mention that it was amazing to watch the intense combination of pure joy Eddie clearly got from the game and the stern concentration on running the campaign. Playing ‘God’ for a few hours brought out a rarely seen confident aura. He was enigmatic, and Y/N could feel herself fall for him more and more with every week that passed.

Relationships blossomed in other areas of her life, outside of Eddie, as well. Chrissy had become a hesitant but fierce friend and confidant, and despite the conflicting emotions that came with it, they loved spending time together away from their respective boys. Mostly their conversations stemmed from their joined interest in classic romantic literature, but over time they started to tell each other anything and everything. It felt good to have a feminine best friend again. Someone to have mini spa sessions and self-care days with. To talk about makeup, and romcoms, and go shopping with. To gush about undying crushes and frustrations. Plus, the friendship came with the bonus that it thoroughly pissed off Jason. Of course, Eddie wasn’t sure at first, either. He didn’t trust that it wouldn’t come back to bite them in the ass if Jason were to ever overhear their conversations, but as soon as he learned that Jason hated that the girls were fast friends, he was all for it. Even going as far as to pick them up from shopping trips in the van after work when he could.

Chrissy brought out a side of Y/N that she thought was abandoned in England with her old life. A strange part of her felt like she was leading a double life, and worse was that she kept getting horrific déjà vu from seemingly innocent moments with Chrissy. It wasn’t anyone’s fault but her own for not being honest about her past. But she had such a good thing going she didn’t want to ruin it. But the walls were starting to crack, for both of them. Chrissy could tell that Y/N was hiding something from her, but she couldn’t quite place what, mentally noting all the times that she would vaguely stare off into space then shake it off with a smile and go on as if nothing happened. And Y/N would notice all the skipped meals and times when Chrissy would disappear for a good few minutes after any meals they did have together and come back smelling strongly of perfume, brushing it off just as easily. All they needed was a little push for the walls to come crashing down around them.

Spring Break, something Y/N had never experienced, was coming up fast. Lucas was taking his basketball duties more seriously; the final session of Eddie’s most complex campaign for Hellfire was approaching and they had no idea how it was going to end; college application deadlines creeping up on them - it was all coming to an abrupt end, all too fast. Y/N never thought she would say it, but she wasn’t ready for school to end just yet. Before she had time to fully process anything happening in her life, which was starting to feel more like the beginning of a romcom than reality, the final week of term rolled around. And it flew by. Waking up on Friday, and donning her custom Hellfire shirt which was slightly tailored and re-hemmed to fit her waist and neck better, her mind was flooded with ideas of all the things that she could do during her time off. Most of them including Eddie, she had a big surprise planned for him and couldn’t wait to tell him that night. And Chrissy, they had so many dates planned Y/N had to start writing them down to keep track. And Dustin and Lucas, who had promised to introduce her to some of their other friends in Y/N’s year whilst Mike went to California to visit the Byers.

But her morning didn’t start the way she had wanted. As she mindlessly wandered into the kitchen, she slammed straight into her dad walking towards her room.

“Oop!” Y/N wobbled and he caught her slightly, “Sorry dad, I didn’t realise you were still here.”

“That’s actually why I was coming to wake you. Why are you awake so early?” The man straightened himself out as he talked.

“Pep rally before classes start.” He nodded sharply at Y/N’s answer before turning on his heel and leading Y/N to the kitchen table where Mrs Y/L/N was already sitting, tissue in hand.

“Mum?” Y/N immediately took a seat as close to her mother as she could and gripped her hand, staring at her father incredulously, “Dad, what’s going on?”

“I’m leaving for a few months. Work trip, completely unavoidable.” His eyes flick to the suitcases piled by the door, “I leave for Nevada at noon.”

“Excuse me?” Y/N blinked at the man in front of her, rage consuming her, her breathing becoming more laboured as she processed what her father had said. “You’re just leaving? With no other warning?”

“I received the call this morning, Y/N, there was no further warning.” Mr Y/L/N tried to explain as calmly as possible, but his frustration was evident. His whole body was tensed, hands flexing by his sides, and veins straining on his neck with every word.

“We knew this might happen dear,” Mrs Y/L/N sniffled from beside her, “if his work needs him-”

“Then that’s his main priority, I know.” Y/N finished, unable to hide the bitterness in her voice, making her father sigh and groan in annoyance.

“You’re not making this any easier, do you really believe I want to just leave you and your mother like this?” Mr Y/L/N finally breaks, storming towards and towering over Y/N.

“Well, I haven’t properly seen you in months anyway. So, what difference does it make?” Y/N sunk into her seat, fiddling with her hands in her lap, avoiding eye contact, voice flat.

Silence fell, the room tense. Only broken when Eddie honked from outside.

“I’ve got to go, don’t want to be late for school. I’ll be back late mum, but I’ll be home I promise.” She kisses her mum on the temple and she pats Y/N’s hands in understanding. “Dad…”

“If you get into any trouble, you call me.” Mr Y/L/N says sternly, but his eyes were red from holding back tears. “Don’t get into trouble.”

“I’ll try,” Y/N forced a small smile onto her face before suddenly she was engulfed by her dads' arms. Her heart ached, and she found herself tightening her fists around the fabric of his shirt. The once-familiar scent of his aftershave flooded her senses and soothed a small part of her soul. As she pulled away, she felt a small kiss land on her hairline and she shuddered, holding back her own tears. She wouldn’t let him see her cry. Not now, not ever.

Of course, Eddie immediately noticed something was wrong and a strange feeling of déjà vu washed over them. Her smile at him was forced and his grip on the steering wheel was tight, the bats flying on his forearm once again. He didn’t want to push, and she didn’t speak, slumped against the window, watching the trees and houses go by. Y/N didn’t realise her knee was bouncing until she felt his warm hand fall onto it and squeeze gently to tell her he was there. After a few more minutes of silence, he swallowed his nerves and finally spoke up.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” His voice was soft and worried, he hadn’t seen her this shut off before and it scared him. He heard her sniffle and clear her throat before sitting up straighter and threading her fingers through his hand on her knee.

“I know, Eds, just not right now.” He nodded and squeezed her hand once more, and she squeezed back composing herself a little as they came up to the school, “I need to go meet Chrissy before the pep rally, so quick detour? Then breakfast?”

He responded by pulling into the school car park at the last second and parking up near the gates. He jumped out of the car and rounded the front to open her door, before finally saying, “Yeah, you go have your little gossip session, I’ll be here waiting for you. Don’t be too long or I’ll go eat without you.”

She chuckled slightly and a smile pulled onto his face at the sound, holding onto it as he shut the door to the van and watched her walk away, shouting over her shoulder, “You wouldn’t dare, Munson. I’ll be quick!”

Chrissy all but ran to catch up with Y/N as they entered the building, her ponytail swaying as she looped her arm through Y/N’s. Her smile was as sweet as ever but Y/N saw straight through it. Late the previous night, Y/N had received a phone call from a panicking Chrissy who had just woken up from a horrible nightmare. Y/N had managed to calm her down enough to go back to sleep but the girl was restless. It was obvious to Y/N that her best friend had barely slept a wink after they hung up the phone. To anyone else, she was as bright and bubbly as normal. They walked the familiar path through the school towards the back of the gym, Chrissy gripping Y/N’s arm. Once they reached the door, the blonde turned towards Y/N and pulled her in for a tight hug.

“I can’t do this,” Chrissy whispered, voice small.

Y/N ran a soothing hand up and down her friend's back, “Yes, you can.”

“It just keeps getting worse, Y/N…but I feel paralysed, I just feel like I’m going insane.” Chrissy rambles into Y/N’s shoulder before pulling away and looking her in the eye. “I can’t keep doing this, I’m going to break.”

“Hey, you know I’m always here for you…you don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to but I have noticed that you’re not well, Chris,” Y/N says gently, not wanting Chrissy to push her away but she just sighs and slumps back against the wall, swallowing a lump in her throat.

“These nightmares…they feel too real…like I’m actually living them again,” Chrissy admits to Y/N, who nods in understanding, being plagued by nightmares herself, and allowing her the space to talk. “They’re mostly of my mother, of the things she tells me about myself…my body.”

Y/N takes a deep breath, connecting the dots. Chrissy’s weird behaviour around food and the frequent bathroom visits all started to make sense, and made Y/N so angry at herself for not picking up the signs earlier. “How long have you been…?”

“A couple months,” Chrissy’s arms wrapped around her body, hiding, “but she started restricting my diet years ago when I first became a cheerleader, it got worse when I became captain…and that’s when I started to…”

“Yeah.” Y/N closed her eyes and flexed her hands a little before reaching out and placing a hand on top of Chrissy’s “I’m so sorry.”

Chrissy opened her mouth to speak but stopped herself when she saw the rest of the cheerleaders walking towards them, “We’ll continue this later, don’t think I haven’t noticed you either, no more secrets.” Chrissy’s eyes were wide, searching Y/N’s for any hesitance or doubt but she only found surrender and concern, “For either of us.”

Y/N nodded in agreement and pulled Chrissy back in for another hug, when a thought popped into her head, whispering the idea to her friend, “Feel free to shoot me down, I know it sounds insane but go meet Eddie by the table in the woods during free period, he might be able to give you something to help relax you enough to get a good night’s sleep.”

“Really? He’d do that?” Chrissy asked with a forced smile, being able to see her squad over Y/N’s shoulder and upon feeling Y/N nod, she thought for a second before replying, “I’ll think about it, I’ve got another session with Ms Kelly later, anyway…it might help.”

When Y/N left Chrissy to her other friends, Y/N headed straight back to the van, Eddie back in the driver’s seat, rocking out by himself to the Iron Maiden song blasting through his speakers. His predictability soothed her. They had planned to blow off the pep rally entirely, and go have breakfast at a little diner not too far away before school, and after Chrissy’s confession, Y/N wanted nothing more than a bit of comfort. Pulling open the door and sliding into the passenger seat, she greeted Eddie - “told you I’d be fast” – before settling into the drive to the familiar diner. Breakfast with Eddie was easy, calming despite his hyperactive nature, exactly what she needed after the hell of a morning she was already having. All they could talk about was the impending final session of the campaign that night, Y/N bugging him for any kind of reprieve. Which only made him laugh. The sound had become one of her favourite things and she made it her personal mission to hear it as much as possible.

The rest of her morning ran smoothly after breakfast. She didn’t bump into Chrissy again but the whole school was buzzing after the pep rally, so she assumed everything went well and she managed to perform without cracking. By the time lunch rolled around, Y/N had mostly managed to force the morning from her mind. And Eddie would only push it further away. He had found a copy of a magazine with a scathing article about his beloved game and was animatedly reading it aloud for the group to hear.

“‘The Devil has come to America.’” His voice was deep and lilting, mimicking that of an infomercial voiceover, right as Dustin and Mike take their seats at the table next to Y/N, “‘Dungeons and Dragons, at first regarded as a harmless game of make-believe, now has both parents and psychologists concerned.’” Y/N rolled her eyes, picking at her food as she listened to Eddie, his voice becoming more and more him with every sentence, “‘Studies have linked violent behaviour to the game, saying it promotes satanic worship, ritual sacrifice, sodomy, suicide, and even” He slams the magazine down onto the table “’…murder.’”

The table chuckled at the ridiculous article, and at Eddie, Y/N scoffing before commenting, “Society has to blame something. We're an easy target.”

“Exactly.” Eddie brushes Y/N’s chin with his thumb, lifting it slightly with his index finger, winking before starting to rant, “We're the freaks because we like to play a fantasy game. But-” he rises from his seat and gets up to stand on the table, walking down the middle, “as long as you're into band or science…” he addresses the cliques as he mentions them, voice getting louder, “…or parties,” he mocks the group dressed like they just got back from a rager, who flipped him off, before he directed his attention to his true targets, “or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets!”

“Loser!” Someone shouts, but Eddie doesn’t care, as he stares down Jason Carver who is glaring right back.

“You want something, freak?” Jason calls him out, and Eddie being Eddie, only mocks further – placing his fingers to his head like devils’ horns as a feral sound falls from his lips, smirking afterwards at Jason's disgusted face, “Prick” Jason mutters to himself as Eddie turns away.

“It's forced conforming. That's what's…” He jumps off the table and scares an innocent bystander, making a further spectacle of himself “…killing the kids!” The group chuckles at his antics but he bows back and holds out a gentlemanly arm to allow two cheerleaders to pass without incident before settling back into his seat, “That's the real monster.” He finishes his rant, one hand picking at his food, the other falling onto Y/N’s knee, her hand immediately covering it with her own, his thumb rubbing a soothing circle into her skin through her jeans.

“So, uh, speaking of monsters,” Dustin pipes up, he’s grinning his usual adorable smile but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes, which are slightly scared, “uh, Lucas has to do his, uh, balls-in-laundry-baskets game. So…he's not gonna be able to make it to Hellfire tonight.” Dustin giggles as he speaks but Eddie just stares blankly back at him, “And I know there's no way we can beat your sadistic campaign without him. So, me and Mike, we were talking, shooting the shit, and we were thinking that maybe we might…” Dustin is stammering, trying to break the question to Eddie gently but Mike, who was growing increasingly more frustrated cuts in.

“Postpone.” Mike finally says, causing the boys at the table to erupt into complaints.

“Postpone? You can't just drop this on us!” Gareth and Jeff are outraged by the mere notion but not as much as Grant who states a firm “Over my dead body.”

Y/N shakes her head at the childish behaviour, sure she loved the game, but wasn’t supporting their friend just as important?

“Shut up!” Eddie finally snaps and silence falls across the table, “You saying Sinclair's been taken in by the dark side?”

“Uh, something like that.” Mike hesitantly agrees but only gets a bit of food thrown at him.

“Something like that?” Eddie echoes, pulling a small ‘Jesus Christ’ from Dustin in response. Eddie just continues, “And rather than find a sub for him, you want…” his eye twitches, “you want to postpone "The Cult of Vecna"?” Eddie finishes incredulously, burning a hole through Mike’s skull with his eyes.

“I…I don't want to postpone it. We don't want to postpone it.” Mike gestures to Dustin who nods emphatically, but Eddie isn’t hearing any of it, standing up from the table, Y/N’s hand gripping his to try and keep him calm, his knuckles turning pink with the force of his grip, “It's just that, you know, most of the subs will be at the championship game.”

“Oh, it's the championship game?” Eddie finally turns back to look at Mike.

Mike seems confused “Yeah?”

“Can I level with you?” He drops Y/N’s hand, and she sighs deeply muttering a small ‘here we go...’ under her breath, knowing that Eddie isn’t going to just let this go and there would be no reasoning with him. “Jeff graduates this year. Gareth's got, what? A year and a half? Me, I am army-crawling my way toward a D in Ms O'Donnell's. If I don't blow her final, and I know I won’t thanks to Y/N,” He smiles at her and she winks back, the tutoring had been working, his grades were up and it looked like was finally going to graduate, “I'm gonna walk that stage next month, I'm gonna look Principal Higgins dead in the eye, I'm gonna flip him the bird, I'm gonna snatch that diploma. I'm gonna run like hell outta here.”

The group once again laughs at Eddie's dramatics, Y/N unable to stop the grin on her face that he was so excited about graduating. But of course, his friends had to humble him a little.

“Didn't you say that last year?” Commented Gareth, smiling smugly but with affection, Jeff added in the same manner, “And the year before?”

“Yeah, yeah, and I was full of shit.” Eddie agrees but continues, his deep brown eyes were wide and hopeful, “This year's different. This year is my year. I can feel it. '86, baby.” He grins, eyes locking onto Y/N’s, a small blush creeping up onto his cheeks but he brushes it off and continues addressing the freshmen who look up at him with admiration, “You know what that means?” the boys shake their heads “It means you boys are the future of Hellfire.” Eddie rounds the table to crouch behind Dustin and Mike, arms draped across their shoulders “I knew it the moment I saw you. You sat on that table right over there, looking like…looking like two little lost sheep. You were wearing a Weird Al T-shirt, which I thought was brave.”

“Thank you.” Dustin nods but is unable to meet Eddie’s intense eye contact.

“Mike, you were wearing whatever shit your mommy bought you from goddamn Gap.” The table laughs once more but it is cut off when Eddie suddenly stands, pulling the freshmen up with him, “And we showed you that school didn't have to be the worst years of your lives, right?

“No.” Mike and Dustin agree, they had been taken in and appreciated for all their quirks and nerdiness by Eddie, they had a friend and inspiration in their Dungeon Master, despite of how much he scared them sometimes.

So, Eddie continued, “Okay, no, no. Well, I'm here to tell you, that there are other little lost sheepies out there who need help. Who need you. And all you guys gotta do is get your Bo-Peeps on and go and find one.” He pushed them away into the crowd, turning back to the table and taking his seat again as the boys scurried off.

“Don’t you think that was a bit much, Eds?” Y/N questions before taking a bite of her sandwich, shrugging it off when Eddie’s glare focuses on her. He was always ‘a bit much’, and they all knew it. His gaze softened when he saw that she was only teasing him. Her eyes sparkled and a smile tried to force its way onto her face behind the sandwich.

“You too, darlin’? You wound me.” His voice is low and warning, making a chill run down her spine but she ignores it and sighs, head tilting slightly.

“I’m just saying that it’s not completely unreasonable for them to want to support Lucas, he has been their best friend since they were kids.” Y/N gently explains, leaning back in her seat as though to challenge him a little. She wasn’t lying but she knew he wouldn’t budge, this was too important to him, but what was the harm in humbling him a little anyway?

Eddie licks his lips and quirks an eyebrow up at her, trying to figure out how best to respond, shocked at her lack of blind obedience to his word. “Do you want to die the most painful death at the hands of my, what was it that Henderson said…sadistic campaign?”

“I was never going to survive to the end anyway, I’m sure you’ve already made sure of that, Dungeon Master.” Y/N bit back with a smile, mischief glinting in her eyes, Eddie's eyes flaming back at her.

Gareth butt in before Eddie could say another word, “Will you two stop flirting at the table?” both of their heads turned to face him, seeing the older boys gagging at their behaviour made them chuckle, hands linking under the table, “I’m trying to eat and you two make me sick.”

“Too bad.” Eddie threw a crust at Gareth who swatted it away as distracted whilst Eddie leaned in to whisper to Y/N, “Valiant effort darlin’, but if you want me to break you’re going to have to try a little harder.”

He turned back to the other boys and chatted mindlessly as Y/N’s mind fogged up.

He knows.

Of course, he knows, idiot, you don’t exactly make it subtle. He probably thinks you’re pathetic, drooling over him.

Shut up.

Come on, you don’t really think you stand a chance? Have you seen yourself? You’re gonna be left alone again if you keep pushing.

First at your old school, now Daddy’s leaving you…how long before Eddie leaves too?

“I gotta go.” Y/N suddenly stood up from the table, grabbing her things and swallowing thickly to suppress the panic swarming her. Eddie's eyes were frantic, tracing her to find what was wrong. “I need to be alone for a bit but I’ll see you all later”

Y/N started walking away, leaving the boys immensely confused until she heard Eddie stumbling after her, “Hold up! Y/N wait!” Y/N kept walking, eventually coming to an empty corridor. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing I just-”

“Cut the bullshit, Y/N. Talk to me.” Eddie says running a hand through his hair in frustration. Y/N slumped back against the wall and slid down to the floor, where Eddie immediately joined her.

“My dad…he’s leaving for a few months, work thing,” Y/N said quietly, staring at her shoes, and fidgeting with the edges of her sleeves, “And I know we don’t have the best relationship, we haven’t been close in years, but still…”

“Is that why you were so sad this morning?” Eddie asked softly and Y/N nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Y/N’s eyes closed, and her head rested back against the wall, trying to find the right words, “I don’t know…I wanted to, I want to tell you everything, I’m just…I’m scared.”

“Scared of me?” Eddie had never sounded so small, the words hung in the air for a moment and Y/N shook her head, eyes springing open to see him chewing on his lip, hands trembling slightly.

“No. Never scared of you.” She reached out and took his hands into hers, “What I need to tell you isn’t easy, and I don’t want to push you away.”

“Whatever it is, I’m not going anywhere.” Eddie pulled her in for a tight hug right as the bell rang, “Except for class.”

Y/N chuckled lightly and pulled herself off the floor. “Free period. I’m gonna go to the library, meet you there after you’ve done whatever deals you have today?” He nods and picks up his bag, following her down the hall.

He walks her to the library and as she enters, he leans on the door frame and asks “Hey, do you think Dustin and Mike are out ‘Bo-Beeping’?”

As it turned out, Mike and Dustin had gotten their ‘Bo-Peep’ on and managed to recruit a sub for Lucas, none other than Lucas’ own little sister Erica Sinclair. She looked sweet enough, bright blue jumper, hair perfectly coifed, and an American flag wrapped around her shoulders like a cape. but her attitude is what immediately sold Y/N. She had no patience for Eddie, making her stifle a laugh from beside him as he reclined in his throne, interrogating the young girl to no mercy.

Erica stood her ground as Eddie towered over her, stating firmly who she was. “My name is Lady Applejack. And I'm a chaotic good half-elf rogue, level 14. I will sneak behind any monster you throw my way and stab them in the back with my poison-soaked kukri. And I'll smile as I watch them die a slow, agonizing death. So, we gonna do this, or we gonna keep chitchatting like this is your mommy's book club?”

Y/N smiled devilishly, strangely proud of the girl, and it was clear that Eddie liked her too, a wide grin spreading across his face before holding his hand out for her to shake, stating, “Welcome to Hellfire.”

The session was brutal. Everyone was struggling to make any hits with enough damage worth a damn, and they were losing their own health quickly. They were floundering. Eddie truly had been evil in his creation of the campaign, but the worst was yet to come for the party.

“The hooded cultists chant, ‘Hail Lord Vecna.’ ‘Hail Lord Vecna.’ They turn to you, remove their hoods. You recognize most of them from Makbar. But there is one you do not recognize,” The group is listening intently, laser-focused on Eddie as he talks, “his skin shrivelled, desiccated. And something else. He is not only missing his left arm,” he hides his arm behind his back, “but his left eye!”

“No! No!” the group erupted into a frustrated and confused chorus.

Y/N frantically looks back through her notes, “This is bullshit!”

“Vecna's dead,” Jeff states firmly, in disbelief

Mike agrees, “He was killed by Kas.”

“So it was thought, my friends. So, it was thought. But Vecna lives.”

Eddie placed the Vecna miniature back on the battle map and Y/N slumped back in her chair, “Fuck…”

“You are scared. You're tired. You are injured. Do you flee Vecna and his cultists?” Eddie questions, giving the party two paths, “Or stand your ground and fight?” They consider the options, “Come on…”

“I say we fight.” Dustin finally answers, “To the death.”

“To the death.” Mike agrees, immediately reiterated by Erica who looks at Y/N.

“Fuck it, to the death!” Y/N echoes and suddenly the whole party is chanting ‘to the death!’ over and over as Eddie falls back into his throne laughing.

With renewed vigour, they go round upon round of combat, winning some but mostly losing. One by one, miniatures were being taken off the map with curses in their wake. The energy in the room was palpable as they played, the heightened emotion in the small room almost electric as they rolled and rolled their dice, trying everything they could to take down Vecna. Their shouts and cries overlap as Eddie cackles at their misfortune, knocking another figurine off the map. When Y/N’s elf finally succumbed to their wounds and died, Y/N let out a scream of anguish having missed her death-saving roll by only 1 point. Grant, at this point, calls a ‘time-out’ and the group huddles up on the opposite end of the table to Eddie's throne.

“Guys, I hate to say this, but we've got to flee,” Gareth states to the group.

“I concur.” Grant immediately agrees and Jeff nods.

But Erica is having none of it. “Didn't we just agree "to the death"?

“That wasn't literal!” Gareth says in rebuttal.

“Oh really?!” Y/N argues back, having just died.

Gareth scratches the back of his neck, in defeat, before he pats Y/N on the back, in comradery, “You lived up to your namesake, you fought and died valiantly.”

“Thank you,” Y/N says in earnest.

Jeff continues despite this, “Still, Vecna just decimated us. We can't kill him with two players.”

“You too? He only has fifteen hit points left. Don't be pussies.” Dustin exclaims, aggravated.

“Pussies?” Gareth bites back, abhorred by the name calling “Really? 'Cause, we're not delusional?”

Erica argues, louder, “Delusional? How about not cowards?

“Hey!” They all turn to face Eddie, who was perched on the edge of the table behind his DM screen, “If I may interject, gentlemen, sweetheart,” Y/N hums with a fake saccharine sweet smile, “Lady Applejack. Whilst I respect the passion, you'd be wise to take Gareth the Great's concern to heart. There is no shame in running. Don't try to be heroes. Not today, 'kay?” He mimics Y/N’s smile and tilts his head.

Y/N can feel the rage burning back up inside her and it was evident that Dustin could feel it too as he holds up a finger and said, “One sec.” The huddle reforms. “What do you think Mike?”

“How many hit points do you and Applejack have left?” Mike asks, trying to think of the best strategy.

“Twelve.” They reply in unison.

Mike nods, before saying, “It's risky as hell. But you're the ones on the battlefield. So, it's your call.”

All eyes lock on Dustin and Erica, they didn’t need to answer for Y/N to know what they were thinking.

“What do you say, Lady Applejack?” Dustin asks.

“You really gotta ask?”

Dustin thinks hard but ultimately makes his decision.

“Screw it.” Dustin turns back to Eddie, “Let's kill the son of a bitch.”

Jeff refutes “The chances of success are 20-to-1!”

Dustin doesn’t waver, “Never tell me the odds. Gimme the D20.”

Eddie throws it to him with a grin, dimples popping out, clearly, they had made the choice he wanted them to. Dustin cups the di in his hands and shakes, eyes locked on the battle map as he released the di and it rolls across the table. They wait anxiously until it lands, ultimately on ‘11’.

“That’s! A! Miss!” Eddie takes great joy in their suffering, Dustin cursing loudly.

It was all up to Erica. The party circled her as she shook the di in her hands, and time seemed to slow down. It was just a game, but Y/N had never felt so nervous. Erica finally released the di with hopeful shouts of ‘Please!’ and ‘Come on!’ from Dustin and Gareth. It rolls fast across the table, and nobody was able to see what it could land on, so they held their breath in wait for it to stop. Eddie leans over to see the result. ‘20’.

“Crit hit!” Erica shouts with pride and the boys go wild in celebration, Y/N laughing in relief and surprise, jumping in a little circle from the intense burst of serotonin.

“And that’s why we play!” Eddie exclaims and presents the board to Erica who is standing proud, a wide grin on her face.

The party was still celebrating as they tumbled out of the doors of the drama room after collecting their things, practically bouncing off the walls as they went. As always Y/N stayed behind to help Eddie clean up, and she couldn’t stop grinning at him. Her heart still pounding in her chest from the adrenaline rush, Eddie could feel the contagious joy radiating off her.

“What’s with you?” Eddie asks as he folds up his DM screen and puts it in his bag, “You died, I’m surprised you didn’t throw another hissy fit like you did the first time you died.”

Y/N smiles fondly at the memory of their first game together all those weeks ago, collecting all the figurines and stray dice off the table. “Am I not allowed to be happy we won, just because I died?”

“I’m not saying that at all,” He drops his bag onto his throne and rounds the table to where she was perched on the edge and caged her in, hands on the table on either side of her hips, “I’m really happy that you’re so into this.”

Her breath caught in her throat at the proximity, but she didn’t waver, holding his intense eye contact. The high of winning boosted her confidence enough to bite the bullet, “Well,” her hands slid up his chest and circled his neck, hands locking behind his head, “I am, into this…in fact, I think you’ve got me addicted, I’m gonna be chasing this feeling forever.”

He chuckles under his breath and drops his forehead to hers, smirking as his hands slide up from the table to wrap around her waist, pulling her closer, “Then it’s a good thing I’m dealing.”

As her nose brushed his, he suddenly jumps back, and scampered to collect his bag from his throne, “Shit, sorry Y/N, I just remembered I’ve got a deal to do.”

Y/N’s face scrunched up in confusion as she collected her things and followed him out of the room, “I thought you did that in free period?”

“I did,” Eddie says then amends, “Well kinda, I didn’t sell her anything then.”

“So Chrissy actually went to you?” Eddie stops in his tracks.

Never, not even once, had Eddie ever mentioned the names of anyone he sold to. He didn’t want Y/N to be wrapped up in the business, she was, in his opinion, too good for that. The only thing she did know was that his supplier was Reefer Rick, and that was only because he had let it slip one night whilst tired and tipsy. “How the hell do you know it was Chrissy?”

“Because I sent her.” His eyes widened, so she prompted further, “That didn’t occur to you?”

He pauses and thinks it through as they kept walking, Y/N trailing after him. Chrissy, besides himself, was Y/N’s best friend. A little fact that had escaped him upon seeing the cheerleader waiting for him at his bench, shaken up and fidgety. “It slipped my mind…Y/N I told you not to get involved with the dealing!”

They had made it out of the school and as he pulled the large double doors open, he turned to face Y/N. She was wringing her hands out, nose twitching and shoulders tense. “I’m sorry! I just- I was worried about her, thought that you might give her something to-”

“Put her to sleep easy?” Eddie finished the sentence and Y/N nodded.

They wandered in silence up to the van and saw Chrissy waiting by it, before they got close enough for Chrissy to notice them, Y/N stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Look, Eddie, if it makes you more comfortable I’ll wait in the van whilst you finish the deal.”

He shakes his head, “No, no, you’re not staying in the van, you’re coming inside the trailer with us.”

“The trailer?” she was perplexed, he never did deals at home.

“Special occasion, what I’m gonna give her is there, can’t carry it around with me.” Eddie explains, as cryptic as ever but he softens, “Just wait in my room and then we can…finish that conversation we were having earlier?” His hand reaches up to cup her cheek and Y/N leans into it, her eyes fluttering closed briefly.

Y/N could feel her body getting hotter at the thought, mind reeling but answered anyway, “Definitely, there’s some things I need to tell you. Not all bad.”

“Oh?” Eddie’s curiosity was peaked but he doesn’t get an answer as Y/N winks and walks up to the van to greet Chrissy.

The drive from the school to the trailer was surprisingly unawkward, comfortable even, as Chrissy ran them through the championship game highlights – the biggest of which being that Lucas had scored the winning basket. A swell of pride, then regret filled Y/N as she thought about Lucas. It was a huge achievement for the freshman to win the game and he didn’t have his best friends there to support him. She couldn’t help but feel slightly responsible, that she hadn’t fought for the campaign to be postponed so that they could be there. He had made his choice, but they should have respected the boys’ friendships more.

As they pulled up to the trailer, Chrissy jumped out and straightened out her uniform a little as Y/N slid out of the van behind her and slammed the door shut. Eddie led them up to the front door and held it open for them, Y/N immediately made herself comfortable, slinging her bang on the old armchair in the corner and flouncing her way into Eddie's room and flopping down onto the bed. She could hear Eddie rummaging around for something and muffled talking between him and Chrissy.

She wasn’t alone for long though as Eddie waltzed into the room “Sorry I’m late sweetheart,” Y/N sat up and watched as he bypassed her on the bed and headed straight for his cherished guitar, a stunning red B.C Rich Warlock N.J Series. He kissed his fingers and strummed her gently, “You’re beautiful…”

Y/N cleared her throat, “Am I interrupting?”

Eddie snorted, as he rummaged through his messy desk drawers, “I’ll be back for you in a sec, darlin’, I just need to- gotcha.” He pulled out a tin and shut the drawer, standing up straight to go back to Chrissy, “Don’t move.”

As she sat on his bed, alone in his room again, she thought through how she was going to say what she needed to say. How do you tell someone that you like them as way more than a friend without feeling like you’re going to throw up? The mere thought of telling Eddie how she actually felt about him made her heart beat faster and her body tremble a little. Despite part of her knowing, subconsciously, that he might feel the same and she’s just been oblivious to his signs, Y/N wanted to run away, to forget it all and keep going as they have been. Why ruin a good thing right? He was so good to her, took her under his wing, and understood her in a way nobody else ever did. She knew that he took notice of all of her mood swings but didn’t pry, letting her go to him. Until today. But Y/N was terrified of it.

Her thoughts circling her head were suddenly cut off their flight path by the electricity crackling around her. The flickering lights was quickly followed by the sounds of Eddie shouting from the front of the trailer. She had heard him shout countless times that day alone, but not like this. He was terrified.

“Chrissy! Wake up!” His confused and worried shouts echoed through the small space and dragged her to him.

“Eddie, what’s going on?” He didn’t need to answer, “Oh my god...”

Y/N's heart sunk to her stomach at the sight in front of her. Chrissy was trapped in a trance-like state, eyes fully white as though they had rolled back into her head, eyelids fluttering every so often, her body stiff and unmoving in the middle of the room. “Chrissy?”

“She won’t wake up; I don’t know what happened.” Eddie was frantic, his eyes scanning Chrissy for any signs of consciousness. “I just walked in to give her the K and found her like this. C’mon, Chrissy, wake up!”

Tears streamed down Y/N’s face as she shook Chrissy’s shoulders gently, “Chrissy…please wake up…” she shook a little harder, “wake up..” harder, “wake up!”

Without any warning, Chrissy started to lift into the air, knocking Y/N’s hands off Chrissy and sending her stumbling back into Eddie’s chest. His arms wrapped around her protectively and held her close as Chrissy’s body hit the ceiling. A blood-curdling scream tore from Y/N’s throat, echoed by Eddie, as they watched in horror, as Chrissy’s bones started to bend and break inhumanely. Her legs and arms suddenly contorted mid-air, but she still didn’t wake. When her jaw unhinged and her eyes caved in, blood pouring down her face, Y/N had to turn away and bury into Eddie’s chest. The only indication Y/N had that it was over, was the thud of Chrissy’s lifeless body falling to the floor, Eddie’s arms still caging her to him.

“Y/N…we have to go.” His hoarse voice suddenly filled her ears, she shook her head against him, still sobbing. “Can’t stay here.”

“We can’t leave her,” Y/N looked up at him, his eyes wild with terror as he looked from Chrissy’s body on his floor to the girl in his shaking arms. “Eddie…if you run, you look guilty. And we’re not guilty.”

He shakes his head, mind reeling and every fibre of his being telling him to run, “Y/N, I can’t stay here…they already think I’m a freak, now I’m gonna be called a murderer, I can’t stay…” He pulls away from her, pacing, running his hands through his hair.

“Please don’t run.”

“Y/N I can’t-”

“Eddie,” her hands cup his face, and he finally makes eye contact, a shaking breath released from his trembling lips as she looks at him with so much fear it hurt his soul, “please baby, don’t run away.”

His heart stops for a second. Hands itching to hold her. “Sweetheart…”

“Please.” Her thumbs rub his cheeks. He swallows thickly and grabs her wrists, gently pulling her hands off his face.

He whispers so softly it was barely audible, but she caught it before he left her standing in the room alone, “I’m sorry.”

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