#but he ends up getting away still fighting the reach for control. guy gardener (followed the ring) gets there and sees the tail end of this

[burritowitch]

there's a black label blue beetle book in my head that will not ever ever leave now i don't think

[free-pancakes]

Dreams and Nightmares

Summary: LeviHan Canon-Divergence fic

Hange barely survives the final fight against Eren, and is saved by inheriting the Beast Titan from Zeke Yeager in the end. However, the Scouts soon find that this would come with a heavy price--particularly at Levi's expense.

Chapter 8/? Chapter 7 Chapter 6 Chapter 5 Chapter 4 Chapter 3 Chapter 2 Chapter 1

crossposted to ao3 here: link

notes: sorry for such a late update. this also turned out much longer than expected. it's real fluffy though, and quite self-indulgent, but hope you all like it!

CHAPTER 8:

“Was he really that important to her?”

The words echoed in Zeke’s mind as he continued to watch the memory unfold before him.

Hange returned to the room with a steaming hot mug in her hand, and carefully handed it to Levi. She watched in anticipation as he took a quick sniff and sipped on the tea.

“Not bad,” he whispered. And at that, Hange’s face lit up, and it took all her might not to let out a loud “Yahoo!” in her excitement—she heard Levi was quite particular with his tea, and she was feeling absolutely ecstatic that he didn’t spit it right out.

Levi soon fell quiet, satisfied with the drink. Hange sat down at the desk right next to him, keeping him company as she scribbled away in one of her notebooks where she kept notes on her titan research, often speaking her thoughts out loud. While listening, Levi’s eyelids began to droop. To Zeke, he seemed... almost as though he was fighting sleep just to listen to her for a little longer.

The memory soon dissipated, Zeke finding himself standing in a new setting—a gigantic ballroom lay before him, the massive chandeliers glowing dimly above him, hundreds of people wearing ornate, traditional-looking suits and gowns. A sign by his side read, “Annual Sina Military Ball”.

Zeke walked around, trying to find Hange but instead found Levi standing alone, a small cloth bag in his hands.

“The previous commander?” Zeke said under his breath as Erwin and two others approached Levi, clearly teasing him.

“Guys, please. And Mike, shut the fuck up.”

“I’m just sayin, if she turns you down, you can join me. Open bar this year yknow?”

“Mike, stop stressing him out!” Nanaba replied, swatting Mike on the shoulder as he laughed.

Erwin stood behind Levi, grabbed him by the shoulders and gently pushed him into the crowd.

“Just go already, she’ll love it.”

As Levi walked into the crowd, the three huddled together.

“He’s hopeless isn’t he?” Nanaba sighed.

“Yup. Erwin and I will wait at the bar,” Mike answered.

Zeke walked behind Levi into the crowd of people, until he saw him hesitate before tapping the shoulder of someone in a long navy blue gown shimmering with gold. Big, beautiful brown curls turned to reveal... Hange?

Zeke’s jaw dropped—he barely even recognized her.

“Oh! Levi! Aw I’m sorry—“ She itched at the fabric on her side. “I wish they’d let me wear a suit or something to one of these things, all this traditional wear or whatever is too much, but I mean your suit doesn’t even look comfortable either! Man, I just—“

Hange paused as soon as she noticed the small cloth bag in Levi’s hands.

“Oh? What’s that! What do you got there?”

His heart was thumping so loud, he was sure Hange could hear it. He reached into the bag, to pull out a yellow hair clip—it was his mother’s.

Hange’s eyes grew wide and nearly sparkled in the low light, and she smiled as Levi pulled the strands of hair from her face, and held it up to the side of her head with the clip.

“Not bad,” Levi said under his breath, his heart almost stopping at how stunning she really was. Hange gave him a quick hug hiding the blush suddenly reaching her cheeks, and the hug sent Levi’s head spinning. She then reached out her hand—

“Levi, the orchestra’s playing my favorite! Let’s show them all what a proper slow dance looks like!”

Levi rolled his eyes, but took Hange’s hand, accompanying her to the dance floor.

Sand began to fall like a curtain in front of Zeke, wiping the scene away to the open sky, sun setting peacefully in the horizon above the water. The smell of salt tickled at his nose, and he stood ankle deep in ocean water. Young voices sounded from behind him.

“We probably should get going soon, right? The sun’s already setting.”

“Aw Jean, just let them have a moment. I haven’t seen them this happy in such a long time.”

“Sasha, Captain Levi never looks happy!”

“Connie shush! You can tell he’s happy underneath! Come on, just look!”

Hange and Levi stood knee deep in the water, and Hange held up a small, cream-colored conch shell. Levi’s face scrunched up in disgust as she held it towards him, but she pulled him close by the shoulder while trying to reassure him, and held up the shell next to his ear. Zeke waded in a bit closer to hear what they were saying.

“You can hear the ocean inside the shell! It’s something I read about once.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Come on, Levi! Just listen.” And when he finally did, his eyes lit up ever so slightly, his mouth just partially agape.

“So you’ll always remember our first trip to the sea,” Hange said. And before she could hand the shell to Levi, she dipped it into the water letting it fill up, and splashed him with what collected inside.

��What the hell, Hange!” Levi grumbled, kicking water back at her. Splashes back and forth escalated so much that they had gotten absolutely soaked—Hange laughed as she tackled Levi into the sea, the two coughing and giggling stupidly as the rest of the kids ran back into the water to join them.

Once again, sand whisked away the scene and Zeke was now standing in a balcony, overlooking a courtyard. He looked back to see what was going on inside—another ball? He then looked down to see Hange and Levi standing together out in the venue’s garden. They looked a bit more mature, older. And Hange was wearing an eyepatch—it must have been a different memory from before.

Zeke heard footsteps coming from the hallway behind him.

“I’m telling you, Mikasa, smelling someone’s hair during a hug means they love them!”

“I guess now that you say it, I suppose that could be true…”

The two walked out past Zeke, and leaned their elbows on the balcony together, looking down at the courtyard and garden. They gasped and crouched when they saw who was standing down there.

“I’ve never seen Sasha so nervous! She wanted to dance with Niccolo, so I took the hair clip off and put it on her—yknow for the confidence boost. I hope that’s okay, Levi?”

Levi looked at Hange, and tucked her loose strands of hair behind her ear. “I like it better on you, but I suppose Sasha needs it tonight, then.”

A new song echoed from the orchestra inside—Zeke recognized it to be the same from the earlier military ball memory.

Levi reached out his hand, just how Hange did before.

Hange giggled and grabbed his hand, pulling Levi close, practically in a hug as they swayed together. She leaned into him, her cheek pressed against his forehead.

“New shampoo, huh? Lavender—you know that’s my favorite, right?”

Jean and Mikasa heads snapped towards each other, their eyes locked and faces red in realization.

“Hange-san smelled his hair—“

Mikasa slapped a hand over Jean’s mouth.

“Shush, they’ll hear. Let’s go before they notice us—“

The scene quickly changed, and it was quite jarring for Zeke this time around.

He found himself staring into the face of his past self, sitting miles above Liberio inside the war balloon the Scouts had taken control of. This time, he could see the room where Hange and Levi walked off to after hearing about a fallen soldier named Sasha, or something like that.

Levi stared at Hange, in his eyes a mix of worry and anger stirring inside him.

“Stop looking at me like that, Levi,” she said curtly, clearly trying to hold herself together.

“Hange…” Levi urged.

He watched her hands shake as she reached into a first aid kit from her bag, pulling out a half used tube of wound ointment—the same one she had always used on him.

“C’mere,” she beckoned, and Levi obliged begrudgingly, letting Hange pull down his shirt slightly to apply the ointment to the lacerations on his shoulder. He watched Hange biting her lip—he knew she was holding back the tears, trying to “look strong” for everyone else, but he thought that was utterly stupid. She was allowed to have feelings… Commander or not.

“Hange…”

“I’m fine, Levi, would you stop pestering me already??” She barked back, though still maintaining her gentle touch as she tended to his wounds. She continued in silence until they landed.

Hange and Levi left the back room, standing together outside the door as the Scouts filed out with Zeke and Eren. Oyankopon nodded at them both, and left. Lastly, Jean, Mikasa, Armin, and Connie, holding Sasha’s body, all of them a tear-ridden mess. Both Levi and Hange saluted them as they walked past.

Hange started to follow behind them but Levi took hold of her hand. She didn’t look back.

“I’m okay, Levi. Really. I have to—“

Levi pulled her and ushered back into the room, now that everyone was gone.

“Go be okay in there for awhile. I’ll stand outside.”

Before she could protest, he gently closed the door behind him, and stood guard outside of it. He knew it was exactly what Hange needed.

From behind the door, there were muffled sounds of glass breaking, boxes thrown, and anguished wailing.

Zeke watched as Levi stood unmoving from the door his head down, biting his lip as a few tears ran down his face.

The memory faded and Zeke was now in a small office. Levi sat before him, holding a familiar cream-colored conch shell. He lifted it up to his ear, listening, and maybe, just maybe, a smile began to form on his lips.

A quick, loud knock on the door startled him, and he hastily shoved the shell into a drawer, slamming it shut.

“Levi, quick!”

He stood up frazzled.

“What’s wrong??”

“A camera, Onyankopon got us a session with a camera!”

“Hange… what the hell is a camera? And you know I don’t trust all these Marley things…”

Hange gave him a big pout. “Aww, Levi! Come on, it takes photographs! Like the one in Eren’s father’s notebook! The one of his old family?”

“My family photo…” Zeke thought, his own past memories now aching at his chest.

The memory dissolved, but the same scenery returned, unchanged. Yet this time, Levi was holding a framed photograph in his hand—a picture of him standing next to Hange seated, his hand resting gently on her shoulder. He looked tired, a light shade of purple hugging the skin under his eyes. But when Levi laid his eyes on the photo, his face lit up with a genuine smile as he stared.

Then once again, a quick, loud knock on the door startled him, and he quickly stuffed the photo into the backpack sitting at his feet.

“Hey, Levi! You busy?”

Levi stared back at Hange, both need and sadness swimming in his eyes.

“I know Levi… but I brought you a surprise!”

She pulled from behind her a white, spherical object, and held it out for Levi to see.

“A… baseball?” Zeke said under his breath, emotions tugging at his chest.

“Hange… this is the last afternoon we spend together just us—God knows long I’ll have to watch Zeke in the forest before I get to see you again…” He said, avoiding eye contact with Hange.

“Don’t you trust me, Levi?”

Levi continued to look down towards his backpack, fiddling at it with his foot, only stopping when he felt Hange’s hands on his cheeks, and a gentle kiss on his forehead.

“Do you really have to ask me that, Hange?”

She laughed, the sound of it bringing Levi comfort. She backed up and held her hand out towards him, a smile on her face, her eyes beckoning him to come with her. And of course, Levi sighed, and took her hand.

They walked outside, a clearing in the patch of trees next to the barracks.

“Here take this, they’re called mitts! Helps soften the blow when you catch, since the baseball is pretty hard.” Levi took one and wore it.

“So I read a bunch of different Marley novels, and for some reason, playing catch is such a common kind of bonding time? Between a parent and child, or between friends? A symbolic kind of theme, maybe? I thought it was fascinating!”

Levi looked at the baseball—“So what… we just, throw the thing back and forth? And what? We’ll magically become friends??”

Hange threw her head back and laughed. “Good one, Levi! We’re already friends! So, hm, how about we just throw it back and forth for now? If it gets too boring well, we could always just drop it. Sounds like a plan?”

As soon as Levi nodded, Hange grinned and ran a distance away. She waved to make sure Levi was ready, and lobbed the ball over to him, landing with a satisfying thump as it hit Levi’s mitt. He picked it up and ran his fingers over the red laces, and soon pitched it back to Hange a bit too far, so she ran and dove for it, catching it just before it hit the grass.

“Hange be careful!”

She laughed in excitement, and got up to throw it back.

Before long, they were throwing for hours, talking about anything and everything. Sharing memories that hadn’t been touched in years, laughing over inside jokes, the 104th kids, and their past, beloved friends.

Their voices began to fade, and Zeke strained to listen, calmed by how comfortable their conversation felt, comforted by the sound of the baseball hitting their mitts, back and forth.

Soon, the memory went black, a burst of light, and he was back.

Paths.

And there was Hange, laying down in front of him with her back towards him, the sand no longer black surrounding her.

“H-Hange?” Zeke asked.

Hange didnt’ turn around to face him.

“So, you saw all that then too, huh?”

“I… did. Sorry, they seemed like private memories,” he answered cautiously, careful to guard himself if Hange decided to fight him again.

“No harm, Zeke. Not like that was your fault.” She finally sat up, sniffling and wiping away residual tears.

“But we do have to thank Levi—he got us out of a potential mess.” She ran her hands through the sand, now colored a bright white. “Susceptible to our emotions huh. Could have been a disaster.”

Hange caught on quick, Zeke thought. But something she said bothered him a bit—

“What do you mean, thank Levi, though?” Zeke asked, genuinely confused as to how she thought he played any part in getting her out of the black sand ordeal just now.

Hange smiled, knowing exactly what Levi must have done. The box of things she had him pick up—he probably opened it.

“Not bad, Shorty,” she whispered to herself.

She laughed to herself again, but soon stopped as she saw Zeke holding out his hand in front of her.

“Are you… are you deciding to help me?”

Zeke’s chest tightened as he thought about all the memories he had just seen. He was angry at how much it moved him, both personally, and objectively—Hange and Levi had a history he never imagined existed between them, based on what he knew about them prior.

With his free hand, he pinched at the bridge of his nose in annoyance. He hated that he wanted to help. But he couldn’t deny it—he felt for Hange.

“Yeah,” Zeke replied. “Let’s figure this out, together.”

Hange grinned excitedly, and grabbed Zeke’s hand.

[onewithnomightypowers]

clandestine (chapter 3)

PAIRING: Tom Holland x fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Y/N is an up and coming actress, married to a once hotshot actor, Harrison (Haz). What happens when her co-star, Tom, makes her realise that she is stuck in a loveless marriage. A marriage starts crumbling and a new romance stars brewing.

chapter 3: sparks fly

A/N: i do not encourage cheating. i hope you guys like this chapter!! feedback is always appreciated.

warnings: drinking, smoking, cursing

word count: 1.5k

series masterlist   main masterlist   chapter 2   chapter 4

JFK to Heathrow was a 7 hour flight. Y/N was going to London to promote her new movie with Tom. She wasn’t the lead but was still asked to do so because she was going there to film her new movie over the summer. She reached London at 10 a.m.

She felt exhausted even though she had slept throughout the flight. She hoped that London would give her some peace. New York, her home, came with exhausting people, came with Haz. Every conversation with him was mentally draining for her. London was not New York. London had Tom, who was the opposite of Haz.

Haz was someone who would walk into a room and make everyone aware of his presence. He would make sure that he had the upper hand over everything. He was insecure, and anyone who really knew him could tell, but he would try his best to hide it by being a cocky, confident version of himself. That might have made people believe that he was arrogant or obnoxious but Y/N knew that deep down, he was still trying to navigate through the world and that in particular, made Haz so charming.

Tom, on the other hand, was quiet about his confidence. He was the kind of person who just walked into a room and didn’t have to be arrogant to have all eyes on him. There was something beaming from within him that he probably couldn’t even control that made people turn their heads. When you see him, you just feel like walking over to him and talking to him for hours.

He felt like enjoying your favourite song without turning the volume up. You could enjoy his company even with comfortable silence because he knew who he was and didn't brag about it. Y/N found this to be the most interesting quality in him. It’s not his charm or valour, it’s him.

Y/N was unpacking for the summer, when she got a call from Tom. “Hey Tom”, she was happy to hear his voice.

“A little birdie told me that you’re here”, he said.

“Huh?” she was confused.

“Greta, I mean I heard from Greta that you’re here, in London”

“Yeah, I got in few hours ago”

“Where are you staying?”

“I’m renting an apartment in Camden”

“Oh, I-um, I was wondering if you wanna grab a pint with me?” He took ages to finish the sentence and it took seconds for Y/N to agree.

“Yess! I mean, great, I’ll text you the address” it was hard for him to contain his excitement.

Tom reached the pub before Y/N. He was on his second pint when Y/N entered. He was sitting in a booth, going through his phone. Tom stood up when he saw her walking over towards him. “You look beautiful,” Tom said in amazement. When Y/N laughed at his words he realised he said it out loud.

“Thanks” she said with a smile. They both sat down a few inches away from each other.

“What do you wanna drink?”

Y/N’s phone was ringing, it was Haz.

“How about you get me a pint and I’ll take this call, what do you say?”

“Okay”, he said and got up.

Y/N went outside the pub to take the call. It was drizzling outside, wondering which version of Haz she was going to get, she lit a cigarette. Was it going to be the man she married or the man who was consumed by jealousy?

“Hey love”, a soft spoken Haz was met on the other side of the phone.

“Hi” she replied with politeness, taking a long drag.

“Did you reach London safely?” She could hear the genuine concern in his voice.

She blew out the smoke, “yeah, I ended up getting the Camden apartment.”

“That’s good, anyway, I called you because I wanted to let you know that I signed an ad campaign. They are filming it in London so I’ll be there for a few weeks in July. “

“That’s amazing Haz”, a group of women came out of the pub laughing loudly.

“Are you out somewhere?”

“Yeah I’m out for drinks”

“Oh okay, I’ll let you get back to it then” he hung up.

Y/N dropped her cigarette butt and stepped on it. She didn’t know how to feel about the interaction. She went back in, Tom was waiting for her with their glasses.

“Who was it?” He asked, taking a sip of his beer.

“It was just Haz”

“How are things with Haz, if you don’t mind me asking?” Tom was aware of the turbulence in their relationship from on-set gossip.

“We’re-umm“, Y/N took some time to condense all of the things she felt about Haz into a simple sentence for him.

“We’re not that good”

Tom noticed her sad eyes.

“Well enough about me, what have you been up to? How’s your family?” She said with a burst of energy.

“Ah-hum”, he let out a little sigh.

“My life hasn’t really been that exciting since I came back from New York, one might even call it dry. It’s just work and pub. That’s it. But, my dad is working on a new book and my mum is trying to get my little brother into acting too”

“I wish I had a little brother”

“No you don’t, they’re like your personal monsters who you can’t hate because you are conditioned to love them”

She laughed, their eyes locked, filled with fondness for the other. She looked down at her empty glass, taking note of the sparks flying around them.

“Have you been to Ireland?” she asked in an attempt to neutralise the chemical reaction they both felt.

“Nope I haven’t, which is weird ‘cause it’s very close to England”

“I wanna go and just get drunk on Guinness there. It’s on my bucket list”

“Cute. You have a bucket list”

They were getting closer to each other with every word they spoke.

“Everyone has a bucket list. Maybe we should go to Ireland together”, Y/N suggested.

“Don’t. Don’t make empty promises”, they were both buzzed. He put his hand on her thigh, subconsciously.

“What if I’m not”, she said in an almost whisper. Y/N’s sight kept alternating from his eyes to his lips. They looked irresistible. They were inching in closer. Finally Tom filled the gap with his lips on Y/N’s.

A lyrical smile came on Tom's face. Y/N deepened into the kiss, her hand laced in his hair, pulled him closer to her. He broke away, “as much as I would like to continue this, I think we should follow the spark somewhere else”

Y/N looked around the swamp of half-drunk people and sighed.

“Fine, but I’ll drive”

Tom obliged and gave her his car keys.

—-

What Y/N had thought was as a onetime thing, became a pastime. Y/N decided to take the road less travelled by. The road of infidelity, which was covered with wild ivy. The ivy, named Tom, groped her further and further, with every step she took. She started to fall in love with him, with each clandestine meeting.

He would come over to her house, each night, with his hood over his head, making sure nobody saw him leave. They would try to find places, away from the prying eyes of people and hunters with smartphones. Every time, before Tom kissed her, he would say, “you know we can always stop” and every time she would think that she couldn’t because his magnetic field was drawing her in, deeper and deeper.

Tom was scared, not because of people finding out, but because he thought a day would come when Y/N would realise that this is all wrong and pull the plug. With her, he never thought that they were out of the woods, the thrill always lingered in the air. Sometimes he wondered if the drug of the thrill would stop working after the first few times.

They would stare at each other with longing, during interviews. What they thought were stolen glances, weren’t going unnoticed by the media. There were speculations around them. After every panel, a new rumour was born and each rumour caused a new fight between Y/N and Haz.

After every fight, Y/N would knock on Tom's garden gate, crying. Y/N had her guard up all the time. For the rest of the world, she was meticulous with every word she said but with Tom, it was no good.

Every step she took with Tom, she wondered if Haz knew. Did Haz know that he was right not to trust her? With every step Tom took with Y/N, he wondered if she knew how much in love with her he was. Did she know that he was ready to carve her name on his bedpost as the last one?

They both wondered if the other knew that they were ready to ruin themselves for each other a million little times.

@mysticapples17

[alicemitch09writes]

lame

07.

look, i know i’m an asshole but at least i’m trying

“Look at that, isn’t he amazing?” the blond boy yells, pointing at the TV on display, showing one of those heroes in work.

“Uwah, All Might’s so cool!”

(E/c) eyes followed the boys’ gazes, watching a big hulking figure power through villains.

She could only nod, half-heartedly, keeping her eyes on the screen, listening to the two boys go on about how amazing he was.

Booming laughter sounded off from the screen, the two boys anticipating as the hero turned to the camera. “I am here!”

And then, the boys went wild – gesticulating wildly, words of admiration leaving their lips, eyes twinkling with amazement. Honestly, it was easy to like someone as big and prominent as All Might.

But in a world ruled by quirks, and your perception of them tainted at an early age, it was difficult to really set yourself on where you stood.

“Isn’t he the coolest, (Nickname?)” green eyes turned to the (h/c) girl.

“Uh, yeah…” came the girl’s reply, rather dull and lacking in the same energy as the two boys.

“That was a weak reply, (Name)!” the blond boy turned to her, a bit offended. “You should be crying out like me and Deku! All Might’s the coolest!”

Chancing a look at the said hero on screen, she shrugged, unsure how to reply to that. “I mean, I guess he is.”

Both boys froze at their friend’s lack of admiration for their favorite hero.

“Sorry I’m not like you guys.”

“T-That’s okay, (Nickname).” The green-haired boy says, voice shaky and his eyes sheen with tears he’s fighting off, smiling warmly at her.

“Hey, that doesn’t mean I don’t like him, though. He’s just not my favorite hero.”

The blond boy’s carmine eyes widen at that, the three kids began to walk home together once the show was over.

“Then, who is your favorite?”

“Hm…I guess I prefer the quiet heroes, I guess?” she nods, mind thinking of policemen, teachers, cooks, train staff, and fishermen. “Ones that don’t really stand out but are cooler in other ways.”

“Ah, there’s this one hero I heard about from Kyoto!” Izuku tells her. “He has a healing quirk, but he’s also really good at martial arts and carries a cool staff with him.”

“That’s Merlin!” the girl gushes excitedly, her walking having a bit of a jump. “The Wandering Hero: Merlin! He’s so cool! I think my grandpa mentioned him before, having trained in our dojo when he was still in training. Ma says he was the prettiest looking man next to Pa. And Pa says his quirk’s extra cool if you get to see it in person!”

(E/c) eyes sparkled the more she gushed about this hero of hers, one he’s never heard of because of his rather elusive nature as a hero.

“That sounds amazing, (Nickname)! I wish my family could have known All Might as well!” the green-haired boy’s tiny fists shook with excitement, sharing her enthusiasm.

“Tch, All Might’s still better. Just wait ‘til I become a hero, (Name)…” muttered the blond, hands in his pockets. “Then you’ll see that I’m definitely the best outta the rest.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, looking at her friend in disbelief. Then mischief.

Getting behind him, she kicks the backs of his knees, causing him to topple to the ground face first.

“Ah, Kacchan!”

“What the hell was that for, (Name)!?”

“That was so lame of you, Katsuki!” laughed the girl, sticking her tongue out as she grabbed the green-haired boy’s hand and proceeded to run ahead of him.

Angered the boy rushes to his knees, cheeks definitely not flushed, and gives the two a chase. “HAH!? WHO’RE YOU CALLING LAME!?”

Three little kids ran down the streets, laughing in their wake.

Traditions in Japan were rather a thing that made the country quite known to the outside world, as many adhered to certain types of customs.

And as per family tradition, certain family never fails to hand over ochugen gifts to the people in your lives.

A (h/c) girl was headed off to the Bakugou’s first, a box full of fresh harvest from her grandpa’s garden. Coincidentally, it also happened to be Izuku’s birthday and she got him special tickets to that superhero exhibit. To commemorate, she had even worn an All Might shirt!

Reaching the Bakugou’s, she put down the Midoriya’s box, before reaching for the doorbell. Someone yelled inside, followed by explosive remarks, which was something she’s rather used to.

Patiently waiting, she felt a buzz, taking her phone out of her shorts pocket, smiling when she saw a text from the birthday boy, feeling the excitement through his text.

The door clicked open, her smile still in place as she furiously texted Izuku back. As she pressed reply, she then pocketed her phone and readily met a pair of carmine eyes.

Except, the owner of said eyes came from the last person she cared for, smile flattening.

For a second there was surprise in his features, softening slightly as his usual scowl set in. His eyes took in her form, the box, then at the ridiculous shirt she had on. “What the fuck are you wear-“

Behind him, a voice called out. “(Name)-chan!”

It was Auntie Mitsuki.

Smile finding its way back, a rather polite one at that, the teen greeted her back. “Hiya, Auntie!”

Shouldering her son aside, receiving a snarky reply she didn’t bother with, the Bakugou matriarch’s eyes shined at the sight of the young teen. “Look at you, growing up so fast to be this cute!” unable to help herself, she reached over to pinch the younger girl’s cheeks before swallowing her into her arms for a hug. Releasing the girl, her carmine eyes then focused and shined at the items in her hand. “Ah, Shihan really has the neatest harvest every summer, thanks for these!”

“We most graciously bestow our gratitude to you, oh great Bakugou Mitsuki!” the teen implored, rather dramatically, earning a laugh between the two, like a running gag.

Bakugou could only watch, quite amazed at their relationship.

“Oi brat, get this will ya?” snapped his mother over her shoulder.

“Don’t tell me what to do, hag!” screamed the blond back, carefully taking the box from her hands.

Their eyes met briefly before she easily slid them away to focus on his mom, an instantaneous reaction.

“You seem dolled up, (Name)-chan. Got a date?”

Humming, she tilted her head to the side. “You could say that,” at that, Bakugou nearly stumbled in his step but she didn’t notice. “it’s Izuku’s birthday today and I’m just having a birthday date with him in a while!”

At the mentioned of Deku, Bakugou froze in his step, looking over his shoulder to take in her attire once more – a gaudy All Might shirt tucked into some simple denim shorts, then some sneakers.

“Aw, ain’t that cute. Oi, Katsuki, why aren’t you with them!?”

Caught, he burst out a reply. “HAH? Why the hell would I spend time with those extras?” his words got the best of him before he could control himself, her brows knitting together, pain flashing through (e/c) eyes for a quick second. He instantly regretted opening his stupid mouth.

“Anyways," he couldn't help notice the slight strain in her voice, feeling his heart drop "I just came to drop by our ochugen gifts. Thank you again for all your help, Auntie.” Grabbing the Midoriya’s gift box from the ground, the teen worked on a smile. “Please tell Uncle Masaru I said hi!” And with that, she was gone.

Both blonds watch the young girl walk away before the door closed. Without a word, Mitsuki walked back in, giving a quick smack to her son’s head before disappearing into the kitchen.

Her hit was rather soft, reprimanding.

Something unpleasant filled his gut as he dropped the gift box on the dining room table and headed off to his room, pained (e/c) eyes haunting him.

You always hurt the ones you love.

Does it feel weird to feel close to someone you haven’t spoken to in years? That there’s always been this sort of connection between the two of you that instantly links you together even after days, months, years of zero contact?

Well, that’s how Bakugou Katsuki feels towards Yuroichi (Name).

Ever since they were kids and he was introduced to (Name), she was all he cared about. Well, there was Deku, but he was second on his list.

(Name) had always been special for him.

But then, things changed.

Since being paired up with Deku for his practical exam, he was unsettled. Well, he’s been unsettled for a lot of things for lots of reasons. But basically, what he’s been unsettled about with Deku was (Name).

While he remembered wimpy Deku trailing behind him, there was always (Name) ready to drag him away or be beside him. Where there was Deku, (Name) was sure to follow. They were like a combo; one was never without the other. He hated it.

Deku had no fucking quirk, was weak, small, a shitty nerd, yet he had the fucking gall to stand up and try to be a hero. With that, (Name) shifted her attention and adoration to him and him alone.

Honestly, he didn’t mind that they were quirkless – they honestly just got in the way.

Still, it fucking hurts that (Name) wouldn’t bother looking his way or even saying a word to him. Fuck, even Deku would acknowledge him even if it were outta fear!

Bullying probably made sense to keep her distance, especially since he loved targeting weak quirkless like Deku and her. But to be on the receiving end of those angry eyes, it made him weak. It may have enforced and asserted his dominance in middle school, but to her, it was a disgusting power play.

He may not be close with her compared to when they were younger, but he’s always kept an eye out for her (and Deku, shut up). He knows that she’s an expert martial artist, bagging and winning several competitions and tournaments, was the pride of the school and her family dojo, sleeps a lot during classes, and sometimes, the older kids would pick on her because they knew she was tough.

(However, after that one time in middle school, she stopped with the fighting and worked on a clean slate.)

She never befriended anyone without a quirk lightly, the majority of her friends either were quirkless or had a really minor, insignificant quirk. She didn’t seem to care nor mind. However, Deku remained her closest companion.

He’d see her a lot – in hallways, in class, on the way home, but he never got to be with her.

Nonchalant, lax, yet kind and sweet to others, but to him, she was forcibly polite and civil.

Those adoring, reassuring, warm (e/c) eyes were reserved for that one shitty nerd.

He hated to admit it, but he craved for her attention, yearned for her approval, and desperately lingered on the fact that they were childhood friends, so he’s obliged to keep a relationship, even when now they’re barely acquaintances.

On his middle school graduation, while he was surrounded by his so-called friends and his parents, his eyes easily caught on two people laughing amongst themselves.

Just seeing them, laughing together with cherry blossoms fluttering to paint an idyllic image, suddenly made him feel extremely lonely. His hold on his diploma slackened, fingers and foot twitching, eyes taking his childhood acquaintances in.

Graduating top of his class, with a bright future set for UA High School. He should be excited, right? Ecstatic even at what he’s gained? Yet why does it feel so lacking?

Carmine eyes began to soften, especially at the smaller of the two. Realization dawned unto him, the occasion was rather bittersweet for (Name), as it was nearing a year since she lost her parents and she couldn’t share the joyous occasion with them. Thankfully, she had her grandfather with her, then Auntie Inko, and Deku.

But not him.

Irked, he left before his mom could find them, no doubt, to use the opportunity to snag a photo of the three.

Nothing hurts more than to realize that the one person – he swore to protect, to keep by his side, had completely shunned him.

At first, they were inseparable. But as the years passed, they drifted apart.

The day (Name) punched him was a literal awakening, a prologue really. It got him worked up. Then the Sludge Incident happened. Her parents died. The light in those (e/c) eyes weren’t as bright as before, even when she got a part-time job.

He knew he was wrong; he won’t deny that (but he won’t say it out loud either), but he won’t ever hide from it either.

After getting into UA, he felt her punch even more at the introduction of his classmates with quirks, as she aptly put it “better and flashier” compared to his.

That stung, hurting his ego.

Damn, the top was a challenge.

But he wasn’t backing down, damn it.

So, what is he was a proud asshole? He had every reason to be! He had compensated with his talents, smarts, and versatility.

Still, to be called out on having a shitty personality boosted only by the fact that he had a strong quirk could do a number to him.

When it came to matters of the heart, he sucked in that aspect.

(h/c) locks, framing a pretty face with (e/c) eyes, they always, always, always manage to catch him off-guard.

Unbeknownst to the green-haired nerd, whenever he opened his big mouth to his friends in 1-A, he’d hope there was something about (Name), no matter how small or insignificant. They even texted.

Pride would always win over him whenever Deku would openly talk about (Name) – Bakugou would pretend to be uninterested, looking out the window while he was actually taking in the nerd’s words like a starved man, he was the only source of news he had because for the first time in their life, (Name) was not there with them. It sucked. (She was very clear on steering away from heroics or people who had a quirk, despite having one herself)

The days were lonelier and duller without her. Deku’s ramblings were something – slightly comforting, but don’t tell him that, but it just missed that one figure next to him.

For all his bravado, just the mere mention of Yoruichi (Name) made him weak. Wait, scratch that, (Name) was a strong person by herself, he did not make him weak, shut up. Hesitate, yeah, that’s the word, she made him falter, hesitate. Whatever.

Thankfully, none of his idiotic ragtag of friends keyed in on that. Save for Deku.

Deku, who’d always known. Deku, that sharp fucking nerd who always tried to be the goody-two-shoes and goaded him to talk to her.

Like fuck he’d talk to him about (Name), fucking no way. He’d rather have his nails done with half-and-half bastard than to have a heart-to-heart talk with fucking Deku.

Still, there was just one thing he was sure of about Deku, one thing he’ll never admit to anyone – or even him, out loud: compared between the two, Deku was always the bigger person. He was kinder, gentler, better.

A part of him would forever be jealous of the fact that Deku had been there for her when he couldn’t. Deku had access to parts of (Name) he was barred from. Deku was protective of her. Deku had (Name).

And as for him? Well, he was probably good as a dead fuck to her.

The punch still stung.

Nothing hurts more than to realize that you never had a chance, to begin with.

From: (Name) Yuroichi

To: Bakugou Katsuki

I’m glad you’re safe.

A day after Kamino…

For once, the Bakugou household was at peace, a day after his kidnapping. The day before, there was screaming, yelling, crying from both parentals that probably had dried off for today. At least for the first few minutes of the day.

The doorbell rang, Katsuki called out to get it, desperate for a bit of distraction from the silence around him.

He opened the door then froze, breath hitching. Two breaths, actually.

Carmine met (e/c).

For once, indifference was not the expression set on her face that he was looking at, but a softened expression. So incredibly soft.

An image of a younger her suddenly came to mind, back to when they first met each other.

“Katsu- “stopping, her lips pinched together, a small frown setting in, not ready to say his name just yet.

Hurt flashed in his eyes, desperately taking her in.

When he was kidnapped, first of all, he was annoyed as fuck, but most of all, he was scared. The League of Villains had him by the neck, literally, immobilized him, just to lure out All Might. And the thing that kept him grounded was her, (Name). The memory of her soft expression after they’d washed the dishes, comforting silence between them, that burnt mark on her neck, her telling him to have fun at summer camp. Her text message.

Remembering her presence at his doorstep, his eyes caught hold of the item in her hand – ochugen gifts, he uncharacteristically gestured at it.

“U-Uh…”

“Y-Yeah…ochugen.”

“My mom’s not home, so…” his words came out lamely, weakly. So, unlike him.

But she was so lost in her head that she could only nod.

Gently, he reached for the box, their fingers brushing against each other lightly.

Something fluttered in his chest, wildly and tightly. Summer seemed to have come quickly as he was beginning to sweat, the smell of burnt sugar bleeding through.

“T-Then…”

“Hn,”

Head still hung low, he took it as her parting, something in his chest twisting painfully, and he slowly turned on his back.

(Before he headed back in, instincts – maybe, or her heart forced her to, she grabbed hold on the back of his shirt, stopping him, and pressed her head between his shoulder blades, taking in his scent.)

Bakugou didn’t move, feeling her shaking hands balling into fists, as though to ground herself.

“I…I know I said this already, but still, I want you to know,” her voice was shaky, but she continued to speak, taking a deep breath. “I’m so glad you’re safe.” The thing in his chest continued to flutter wildly, threatening to come out. “And I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

Silence followed, likening to a pregnant pause, there was more she wanted to say, but the fear of having your feelings get the best of you seemed off-setting in the given situation, so she settled for that.

Before another word was said, she hurriedly grabbed the Midoriya’s box and clumsily left, completely red in the face.

He watched her leave over his shoulder, she almost ran into the gate, fumbling with the box as she headed to the Midoriya’s.

Suddenly, he felt lighter. The punch no longer hurt, leaving a bruise in its wake. This was the beginning of progress with her, it was something. Proud as he is, Bakugou’s never one to admit his mistakes, but for her, he’ll try.

If anything, she was right about everything she thought about him. Especially the part that he was lame.

masterlist • eight

[writersrealmbts]

Clearwater Springs: Part 1

Description: ot7 x reader, reader’s choice, fairy/supernatural/soulmate au. The choices you make influence the story! In this world, war-torn and ragged, you’ve been offered a home and a job working as a librarian. Will you meet your soulmates? Will you ever find the shelves behind the piles of books? Who knows.

Warnings: None

Posted: 08/29/2020

Tags: ot7 x reader, supernatural bts, 

5,111 words

A/N: Once I was actually able to write, this came out really easily. I hope you guys enjoy it and don’t forget to do the pre-chapter 2 survey (link at the end of post)! 

You stared up at the house in a bit of a daze, still untethered. Still vulnerable.

“Isn’t it magnificent?! A real masterpiece, this house.”

You glanced at your over-enthusiastic caseworker, then looked back up at the grand Victorian house, wondering if the inside matched the outside, and why such a grand house was way out in the middle of nowhere. Why its owner would offer to take in strays, misfits, and others in need of a new home after the recent war when they were obviously still doing well despite the near economic collapse.

Your caseworker was practically bouncing up to the house, making you dizzy as he jostled the itty-bitty fountain you were temporarily tied to.

But you’d been dealing with that for a month, and you were getting pretty good at walking a straight line while the world appeared to spin around you.

“Now, if you and he agree at the end of the day, you’ll be tethered to a natural spring and the creek it runs into nearby, and you’ll stay in one of the spare rooms and you’ll help him organize and keep his library, which he runs as a traditional library—when organized—for some of the locals.”

You didn’t bother responding since he didn’t seem to be looking for a response, instead heavily trodding up to the front door as he rang the doorbell.

“Also, to simulate what life will be like, I’ll be leaving you for the day once I set your fountain down in a safe spot.”

“You said,” You murmured, closing your eyes for a moment, feeling yourself swaying from side to side. As a xana, you were originally tethered to a fountain many miles away, but as the war reached that town, your fountain had been damaged and your original workplace—a large library where you specialized in the children’s section, reading to them and singing your songs—utterly demolished. Because the fountain wasn’t completely destroyed, you survived. An experimental spell and three weeks later and there you were, standing on the steps of the home of a human where you would be exchanging work for a place to sleep and food to eat. You didn’t even need that much food, about a meal a day was enough for you when your tethered place was healthy and strong and not being jerked around like a dog was playing tug-of-war with it.

The front door opened, revealing a man with pink hair. “Hello, you must be Y/n. We’ve been expecting you. Welcome to Clearwater Springs.”

“We?” You asked, glancing at your worker.

The human did as well. “You told her about the house’s haltija, right?”

You relaxed. “Oh. Just a haltija?”

“Well, he’s also half-brownie, but thankfully that only manifests in the occasional clumsy or destructive moment. He’s quite friendly, though, and very fond of the forest,” The human spoke quickly, as though afraid you would pass negative judgement on the haltija—creatures who were known for guarding and protecting—for having brownie blood—admittedly, creatures who could become troublesome when disrespected, but otherwise also keepers of the home and chore-doers for the kind.

“I’m sure he’s very kind and gentle,” You replied.

“Right. And you’re a xana?”

You nodded.

“And...I’m sorry, I’m not sure what exactly that is, other than the fact that you’re generally tied to some form of pure water, like fountains, springs, rivers, waterfalls….”

You nodded. “I’m originally from a fountain. Um...I’m not sure how to explain what I am.”

Your caseworker took that hint. “Oh! Right, well, they seem to always know virtuous hearts through some test or other—though no one ever seems to be able to pin down the test—um, they have enchanted songs that bring feelings of peace and love to the pure and could almost kill those who are impure. Um, let’s see, she has combs made of moonbeams and sunlight, respectively. Can’t completely care for babies, but once they can feed themselves she’s fine.”

You frowned, fighting yourself not to glare at him. Your species couldn’t produce milk, so in the old days—before there was formula—it was a sort of changeling situation. A Xanino would replace a human child. Terrible, but true. Nowadays, most xaninos were adopted by naiads or other nature or house spirits—because now it was scandalous to try and raise your own child as a xana.

“Oh, she has treasure, but who knows where she keeps that—”

“It’s enchanted, you’re not supposed to know where I keep it,” You muttered, even though he wasn’t paying any attention to you.

“And she can give you a drink that we call ‘Love water’. Couldn’t tell you why, and I’ve never seen her hand it out. Think that’s it. Here’s her fountain, I’ll be back at sundown.”

The human almost dropped the fountain that was shoved into his hands, and if he wasn’t so surprised you thought he might have yelled at your caseworker.

But the car peeled down the driveway again, kicking up dirt.

You stared after him, a little disconcerted. “Mages.”

“Um, well, we’ve been preparing for your arrival. We’ve gotten the basement bathroom renovated so that you can shower or bathe in the waters of your spring when you need, and your bedroom is ready for you. We thought you’d prefer to decorate it with your things...but looking back now I probably should have known you wouldn’t have many things. It’s a hard time for everyone,” The human rambled, rubbing his neck. “Oh, I’m Seokjin, by the way.”

“Oh, yes, I suppose your name would be important. I’d hate to be rude and just refer to you as ‘The Human” when you’re my boss.”

Seokjin looked startled at the title. “I’d rather think of it as a partnership. I’ve been told I shouldn’t live alone, and you needed a new home. Also, my library is out of control and I have no idea where to start—I mean, other than the new library building that we just finished. Don’t worry, it’s very close to your water source as well, but your spring is still highly protected.”

You just nodded, wondering why he didn’t stare like most humans did. You were beautiful—that was one of the key points of defining a xana: being extraordinarily beautiful. Xana’s were considered more beautiful than any other species—and only a few other species even tried to contend with it since yours was more rare, and therefore more worth the attention.

“Um, let’s get inside so I can set this down. We’ll make sure Namjoon steers completely clear of it.” Seokjin stepped back and leaned his head in a gesture that suggested welcoming you inside and to follow him.

He led the way through the entry, and then to the living room through the arch immediately to the right. He took the fountain and placed it on a table that was against the wall—out of the way of general traffic. “There. Now, Namjoon should be around somewhere. Probably the garden, he likes it out there. But for now let me show you the house, including where you’ll be staying and then we’ll go and talk about the library. There’s a lot of work that I want to do, Namjoon is heavily involved in that too. He likes books, but between us...we don’t really have the skills to put what we want into action—which is why we’re really excited that you’re here.” He started the tour.

“I’ll do my best to h-hell, what is this hell?” You said, looking at the mess. It looked somewhat like a library, except you couldn’t even see the shelves. It was just piles upon piles of books, newspapers, journals, magazines, and comic books with a thin path between it all.

Seokjin winced. “It is...mildly organized. We’ve been receiving donations. Don’t worry, there will be a bigger place, we mostly just need to pack all of this up and move it to the new facility in an...organized fashion.”

You pointed at the mix of magazines and books. “This is organized.”

“I did say somewhat, didn’t I? We had a large influx of books very suddenly. Things got very messy in the chaos of it all. I think they were sending us books from destroyed libraries.” He shrugged a bit. “Don’t worry. We’ll be helping at every turn and I’m bringing in extra workers from town as needed.”

You supposed that was supposed to be comforting, but you were staring at a nightmare of a situation. One toppling tower, and there was no navigating through.

“Hyung? Is that you?” The pile asked.

Then it was all falling over and someone was diving out while Seokjin pulled you against the wall and out of the way.

Seokjin sighed. “Namjoon. Our guest is here.”

The man with blue hair looked up, then back at his legs (which were trapped under many books), then back at you. He stared at you with big eyes, looking a little flustered.

You took a deep breath. “Well, that is exactly what we didn’t want to happen.”

“Yeah. Namjoon, didn’t we talk about not going in there?” Seokjin bent down and grabbed Namjoon under the arms and pulled him out from the pile, helping him to his feet.

“I just wanted the next book in my series.” Namjoon rubbed the back of his neck. “I was doing okay until then.”

Seokjin shook his head a bit. “Namjoonie, this is y/n. She’s the one that’s going to stay with us and help with the library?”

Namjoon was definitely already staring at you, and he looked a little flustered and red. “Hi.”

“She’s a xana. Y/n, this is Namjoon, the haltija of the house.”

“Uh, nice to meet you,” Namjoon said hurriedly.

“Nice to meet you, too,” You replied, trying for a smile, but you were pretty sure you just gave him a woozy look.

“Maybe you should lie down before we continue the house tour? He was jostling your fountain around quite a bit.” Seokjin frowned toward the front door.

Namjoon nodded. “He’s right. You need rest. I can tell.”

You shrugged. “Nah, the world is supposed to be constantly spinning.”

“Should I carry her? Should I carry you?” Seokjin asked, sounding and looking a little panicked.

You shrugged. “I’m fine. This has been my life for the past three months.”

Namjoon’s eyes widened.

Seokjin looked like he was going to have a meltdown.

“Unless you’re going to have a panic attack, in which case you may carry me if it will help you,” You said quickly, concerned with how quickly he was freaking out.

Namjoon glanced at the human, then nodded. “I think that might be the only way to stall him out. He’s not wearing his glasses.”

You shrugged again, uncertain what not having glasses had to do with anything, and waited while Namjoon muttered something to Seokjin.

A couple moments later, Seokjin came over, muttering something about being sorry, then he carefully scooped you up. “Sorry, your dress is a little slippery. Silk?”

You nodded. “Yeah. My clothes just sort of...appear as I need them? Usually made of silk, but sometimes there’s a velvet cloak when it’s colder. Some linen when it’s warmer. Always dresses.”

“Cool,” Namjoon said, following the two of you up the stairs.

“I suppose so,” You replied, doing your best not to look at Seokjin. He was handsome for a human. And you’d never seen a non-fairy pull off pink hair before today. He had a sort of gentleness to his face, a softness that could easily become cold and judgemental. If that even made sense.

But honestly, there were very few things that made sense since the war had begun some ten years ago.

“Why is your hair blue?” You asked the haltija, looking over Seokjin’s shoulder as you realized you had been looking at him despite specifically thinking you shouldn’t and only noticing because his ears had started turning a violent shade of red.

“Oh...uh...we’re not really sure. It just sort of...changes now and then. A few days ago I woke up and it was this color. Before that it had been brown.”

“Did you two paint any part of the house?”

“Well, not in the same time frame as my hair color changing. And definitely not this color. Jin-hyung has this crazy theory that it’s connected to my soulmate or something.”

“You have a soulmate?” You asked, surprised.

He nodded, rubbing his left shoulder-pectoral area, which meant either his mark was located there or he had some muscle pain from his dive for freedom in the great August book-slide. “Yeah. Or...well, I have multiple sections in my mark...so, I guess I’m part of a soul-group. Probably a platonic one given my species.”

“You never know what’s waiting around the riverbend,” You replied, thinking back to Grandma Loire’s wise words when you had been fretting about the war. Granted, at that time, her words had been very wrong, but you wouldn’t begrudge the dead for their mistakes.

But also thinking about your own soulmark and the multiple parts in it. You were certain it was just a coincidence, but it was still an interesting fact that you filed away.

“You sound like a naiad,” Namjoon snorted.

“A naiad told me that. She was very wrong at the time. Told me not to worry about the battle in Manhattan.”

“Ooh,” He winced. “Very wrong.”

Seokjin held onto you a little tighter. “Where did you live before this?”

“Rocamadour. Our library was new when I started working there. Before there were a couple but they were in some towns over.”

“Where is that?” Namjoon asked.

“It’s in the Alps,” Seokjin answered, then paused at the top of the stairs. “Get the door?”

The door swung open before Seokjin had finished asking.

You craned your head to look at Namjoon, suddenly concerned with your privacy.

He held up his hands. “I can open doors and windows, I can’t see through walls. I can also hear things, if you want me to. If you want me to hear, just knock or tap your foot three times and I’ll listen.”

You nodded slightly and relaxed again.

Seokjin carried you into the room, which was painted such a calm color. The bed was a queen-size, and it was soft when he lay you in the middle of it. The top blanket was velvet-y and so, so soft.

Namjoon gave you a smile when you let out a sound of appreciation.

Seokjin smiled at you. “Well, I’m going to find out whether he’s coming back to check in on you tonight or not while you rest, then we’ll go over other things and go to the spring. Feel free to go anywhere in the house, as long as it isn’t one of our bedrooms. Mine is on the first floor, Namjoon’s is across the hall. Food in the kitchen is up for grabs unless it’s in the meal-plan that I have on the fridge. Oh, that door there leads to your bathroom, the one next to it leads to your closet, and this third door leads to your sitting room or office or whatever you want to use it for. We’ll let you nap now.”

Namjoon dipped his head as Seokjin pushed and pulled him out of your bedroom door.

You stared at the closed door for a moment, then lay back. You were still so accustomed to sleeping on your fountain or in your fountain that this felt weird. But it felt weird in a heavenly sort of way. You slid up and then managed to slide under the covers, a little excited about the silk sheets. It was so nice.

So heavenly that you woke up feeling so refreshed that it had to be illegal. Sure, you still felt a little off (because the fountain you were temporarily tethered too wasn’t the greatest), but you felt much better than before.

You slid out of the sheets, enjoying the feel of the hardwood on your feet as you cautiously checked out your bathroom, closet, and sitting room (which only had an armchair and a small sofa). Once you had tested the seats (because you had to know which would be your favorite, it was the armchair), you ventured out into the hallway.

Namjoon’s door was open, but you didn’t hear anything in there, so you decided not to bother him.

Instead, you headed back the way you had been carried, looking around for more detail.

The structure of the house, the woodwork, the moulding, the baseboards and the stairway all had a distinctly Victorian style, and all were likely original to the house. But the design was more subtle, softer, and more contemporary in the coloring and the furniture. It was a nice sort of mix that gave the house an air of elegance that was refreshing. You’d been in some victorian-style homes before and they had been so overwhelmingly Victorian that it was like you were trapped in England in that time period and about to choke on a piece of jellied eel.

You avoided the pile of books spilling out of the library (but did notice that they’d been somewhat cleaned up), and checked out the living room again with the ulterior motive of checking on your current fountain.

The style was even more contemporary there, yet still paid a nice homage to the house. A monochrome color scheme, with pops of color in some of the throw pillows and delicate accents in the artwork.

Your fountain looked cleaner than ever and had a healthy amount of water in it for once, which you honestly felt boded well for you. There even seemed to be a new coating of pebbles at the bottom of the small basin.

You flinched as a cat hopped up onto the table next to the fountain and took a drink from it. It was young, a long-haired calico, so soft and pretty looking.

You let it sniff your hand, humming softly before you carefully picked it up. You snuggled it, happy when it seemed to revel in your attention, even seeking it when you started looking over the books that were seperated from the library and on the shelf beside the fireplace. There weren’t many, but you recognized one or two of the titles, and the taste there seemed to vary widely. You figured they were probably books from both of the boys, and left them as they were to go try and find the kitchen for a glass of water.

The office was nearby, but didn’t look like it got used as an office very often, but definitely seemed to have a gaming station in one corner.

You found the billiard’s room next, noting that there was a ping-pong table folded up in a corner. It seemed pretty abandoned, clean, but not nearly as used.

Then a smell permeated the air, drawing you back toward soft noise and even softer humming, murmured conversation and the sizzling of something cooking.

You peeked into the large kitchen, smiling when you saw Namjoon reading in one corner, and Seokjin cooking at the stove. Namjoon seemed to be explaining the book to Seokjin, quietly passionate about it.

Seokjin was smiling and humming, possibly more focused on what he was cooking, but still seeming to hear what Namjoon was saying.

“Smells good,” You said quietly, slipping completely into the room. Trying not to disturb the aura.

Seokjin turned and grinned at you. “Hey! You look like you feel better.”

You nodded. “That bed is heavenly. And thank you for cleaning the fountain.”

He shrugged. “It looked like it had been neglected for a while. Namjoon found some pebbles for it as well because he read that once they’ve been exposed to the tether it can make a transition easier, theoretically.”

Namjoon looked embarrassed, rubbing his neck. “I figured it couldn’t hurt to try it out.”

“That was very thoughtful,” You told him, smiling at him as well.

He was bright red after that.

Seokjin chuckled. “I’ll have dinner ready soon. Then I thought we could head down to the new library building, and then maybe go into town. There isn’t much, but I do need to pick up some things.”

You took the seat that Namjoon offered. “That sounds like a plan. Who’s the kitty?”

“Oh, that’s Parsley. She followed us home one day and has been here ever since.” Namjoon pet the cat carefully. “She’s a good mouser, so we just sort of created a pact that as long as she keeps us pest free, we’ll keep her pest-free.”

“She’s a cutie,” You said, pressing your cheek against the soft fur and enjoying the soothing vibrations of her purr. It was just one of the many things that made you feel so comfortable here. That and both men seemed relatively impervious to your enchanting beauty, which was refreshing. It gave you hope that this would work out. That you wouldn’t always be free-floating.

“She is. Do you know anything about this bird that practically forced it’s way into our house?” Seokjin asked, pointing toward the ceiling.

You leaned to the left to look at the little black and white fluff-ball. “Was wondering when he would show up. He’s been following me for a while. Don’t know why, but he seems to have formed an attachment. Whether he feels like conversing is a completely different matter.”

“Does he have a name?”

“Not that he’ll tell me.”

Namjoon started laughing.

Seokjin gave you an exasperated look. “What do you call him?”

“Fluffball, marshmallow, cotton swab, cotton ball, cotton candy, fairy floss—he really doesn’t like that one—squishy, fluffy, Caspar, and Leo.” You shrugged. “Like I said, he won’t tell me his name. Just what his name isn’t.”

“So, none of those are his name?”

“Well, fairy floss isn’t. I’ve gotten to the point where I think he’s just waiting for someone else to settle on a name for him—preferably one he likes.”

“And until then, he’s just going to come and go as he pleases?”

You shrugged again, holding it for a while.

Namjoon was still laughing, his smile revealing some adorable dimples.

“So...is he a magical bird?”

You looked up at your feathered friend, and resisted the urge to shrug once more. “Maybe?”

Seokjin huffed. “What does he eat?”

“Haven’t the foggiest. He always leaves to eat. Sometimes I’d see him eating bird-seed, but mostly he just flies off and comes back well-fed. I think he eats insects.”

“Great. He can deal with the mosquitos.” Seokjin spared the bird a glance, then dished up the food. “The store might have some insects we can get for him, just in case. You never know. They always have weird things.”

“Really?” You looked forlornly after the kitty as it leaped off and disappeared through another doorway. “Is it a magic shop?”

“Well….”

“We told you that Jin-hyung is the only human in town, didn’t we?” Namjoon asked, eyes widened slightly. “Everyone who lives in the area is magical to some extent, except for hyung.”

You shook your head, a little stunned. “No. No you did not tell me that.”

But man was that an idea to wrap your head around.

Seokjin shrugged, having plated up the food. “This is a pretty popular place for refugees. Sort of remote and accepting of different species. A nice place to make a fresh start.”

“But...you’re the only human. Doesn’t that get...I don’t know...lonely?”

He blinked at you, then shook his head and shrugged. “No? I have Namjoonie, and now you’re here too. And yeah, I’m outnumbered, but they’ve never held my species against me. I mean, that’s probably because I did sort of pay for the whole town, which isn’t much. But more people come each day, and some people move on to other places once they’ve gotten back onto their feet. It’s like an adventure, meet some new characters, help them on their journey, then return home to sleep in a big, soft, bed with a full belly.”

And maybe the look of genuine happiness on his face was just a little too alluring.

Maybe you were just desperate to belong somewhere, because when he included you...it was like the world lit up.

And no, you were not tearing up.

His hand covered yours, warmth spreading from his touch to the mark that was hidden under the sleeve of your dress as he smiled warmly at you. “I really do hope that this place becomes your home. Everyone deserves to have a home.”

And then he was moving away, maybe not even aware that he was one of your soulmates since he was human.

“Come on, let’s eat.”

Namjoon quickly complied with Seokjin’s words, but you were slower to follow, trying to figure out how all of this had come about.

“I heard that a new van full of people arrived yesterday, so I want to see if I can meet any of them. See if we still have enough housing for everyone. That might mean a couple people staying with us in the house if there isn’t enough housing. Is that okay?”

You nodded, just following their actions, but not taking as much food as they did. Mostly because you didn’t need much food to survive, but it smelled good. So good, and Seokjin did cook it himself.

“Alright, then it’s a plan. Eat, see the new library, go to the store, meet people, come home.” Seokjin nodded firmly at the end of the list, then seemed to remember something. “And talk to your mage-handler and see about tethering you to the spring. That’s probably more important. We can do the other things tomorrow if we have to, but the tethering should be done sooner rather than later. That is, if you want to be tethered to the spring. You wouldn’t necessarily have to live here your whole life, we could always get you your own home, it would just—”

“Living here is fine, and yes, I would like to be tethered to the spring,” You said quickly, noticing how his speech was deteriorating. “I just have one question.”

“Oh?” He looked so genuinely concerned, leaning forward in his seat.

“Namjoon said you wear glasses, so...have you actually seen me?”

Namjoon snickered.

Seokjin’s ears turned bright red. “Um. Yes. Yes I can see you. I have seen you. I’m seeing you. I, um, I put in my, um, contacts. I can see you quite clearly. Also, I could see you when I was closer. Just, not after a certain distance. And yes, we do plan on actively protecting you when we go out.”

You nodded. “Just curious.”

Namjoon paused after swallowing. “The mage is back.”

Seokjin sighed. “So, town tomorrow then. I’ll go let him in. I suppose this means I need to offer him dinner?”

“That would be the polite thing,” Namjoon said, gleefully.

Seokjin muttered as he left the room.

“He’s...unusual for a human,” You commented.

Namjoon nodded. “Yeah. He is. But he’s one of the best human’s I’ve ever met. We’re really glad you’re going to stay with us, Y/n. I hope you never regret your choice.”

“I hope so too.” But you didn’t think you would.

Namjoon turned toward the door, eyes narrowed slightly before rolling his eyes. “Can you help me cover the food? Apparently Mr. Mage is insisting on doing the tethering now if you agree to it.”

You rolled your eyes and got up to help him cover all three plates and the platters and bowls with tin foil to possibly retain some warmth. You highly doubted you’d be eating again that evening since tethering made you impossibly nauseous and sleepy. “I won’t be very coherent after the tethering.”

He nodded. “We’ll make sure you get back here and into bed safely, or into the tub downstairs.”

You nodded, then followed him out to where Seokjin was listening to your mage, looking strained.

“Ah, so, have you decided whether you wish to be tethered to the spring here or not?”

“I have decided to be tethered, yes.” Anything to not be in his careless hands anymore.

“Excellent! I’ll get the fountain!”

“How about I grab it, that way your hands are free to do the actual spell,” Jin quickly intervened. “Namjoon can lead the way back to the mouth of the spring.”

You breathed a sigh of relief as the mage agreed to it. At least Seokjin would be careful.

“Alright, then lets head to this spring! I’d love to be on the road before dark.”

Namjoon’s chin jutted out slightly.

Seokjin just gave a pained smile, nodding. “Yes. Driving after dark is a pain. Namjoon. Lead the way.”

And you weren’t about to tell on Namjoon when you saw one of the floorboards pop up to trip the mage, because you kind of felt somewhat vindicated.

The forest around the house was made up primarily of spruces, firs, pines, and hemlocks with birches, oaks, and red maples popping through here and there. The path that the four of you took (with a little fluffball following overhead and a calico furball following behind curiously) was discreet, yet also fairly well-worn. As though walked often, but also well-cared for.

It was quiet, with varying degrees of density—some areas providing a wide view of the rest of the forest, and other areas being so dense that you couldn’t see a foot past the nearest tree.

Namjoon followed the path for a while, then diverged into the forest down what appeared to be a game-trail, something not walked often.

Then you could sense the water. It’s purity, it’s cleanliness. Free and untethered.

The creek was beautiful, and all of you followed it to the head of the spring.

You grinned when you saw it, a thrill going through you. It was beautiful and so clean and lovely and it was going to be yours.

Seokjin set your fountain down so that the mage could prepare the spell, then came over to you. “You’re sure about this?”

You looked into his eyes, the eyes of one of your soulmates, and nodded. “I’ve never been more certain about anything in my life.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled, a little more carefree now.

You hoped you’d have the courage to talk about soulmates with him someday, but today you were going to have your soul ripped from a tiny fountain and sewn back into a spring. You only had so much courage.

And then the mage started the spell.

--

Survey Results used for this chapter: 

Namjoon-Blue (haltija), Seokjin-Pink (human), You-Cyan (xana) 

Silk, Book-Librarian, Creek-what your water source is attached to, House/Apartment/Mansion, Style-Victorian & Contemporary, view-boreal/boreal-mix forest, calico kitty, white bird with black wings, 

Whoops-meet Seokjin first, Oh No-meet Namjoon second, LaLaLa-C (some friends, some strangers), Loyalty-Soulmate au, Black-War tore through and you're all in relief housing situation.

--

Pre-Chapter 2 Survey

Next.

Masterlist.  ot7 Masterpost.

--

Taglist: @missmoxxiesworld​  @bryvada​  @i-dont-even-know-fck​ @knjhe​ @alex--awesome--22  @kerikaaria​ @killcomet​ @letsreadbts​ @taestannie​

[watchtower-feed]

Shoulds and Coulds

SSA AU ✧ Damian Wayne ✧ Timer

Notes: This is my favorite trope hybrid. Does a lot of emotional damage. I also wanted to move away from Y/N-centric narrative and try the soulmate’s POV.

Words: 3,615

          When you live in a world full of superheroes, there are worst things than meta human villains, invading aliens, and psychotic clowns. One of them is having a soulmate.

          Some say it’s better because your other half is easier to find, but they’re not the one who has a hero or a villain for a soulmate. You do

     Damian Wayne was raised to believe in destiny. That it’s his fate to one day lead the League of Assassins and continue to change the world for the better. Talia would talk of his future feats while massaging the glowing numbers on his arm. As a young boy, he’s noticed how his mother would always avoid looking at his timer.

     But destiny proved to have its own plans when Slade attacked the League and murdered his grandfather in front of him. His mother safely stole him away and brought him to his father. When she whispered her bittersweet goodbye, she kissed his timer for a long time. And it was the last time he ever saw her.

     His father and Alfred dedicated a grave to Talia in the family cemetery, a few meters away from Bruce’s own parents. There was no body beneath the ground but Damian had no trouble shedding tears on the gravestone etched with her name.

     Damian Wayne was then raised in a family where his choices decided his fate and those around him. Every split decision in a fight could lead to injury or death. Every word uttered turned arguments into thirst for blood. There's no way of knowing what will happen until it does.

     Every action he makes, consequences follow. Nothing is given freely and nothing is asked of him. Suddenly, he no longer has a clear destiny.

     But when he looks at the changing numbers on his arm, the inevitable countdown that comforts his loneliness, he’s still sure of one thing. No matter what happens, what turns he takes, or mistakes he makes, he has you.

     It’s the last day of summer before Damian goes back to high school for his senior year. He’s spending it much like every other night with his brothers: in costume.

     “Just a few more minutes,” Dick grins at him while he peers at Damian’s covered arm, making his youngest brother rub it under his sleeve and hide it from Dick with a scowl.

     Jason snorts through the comms and Damian can hear him breathing loud and the wind trailing behind him, “Do you think-- it’s going to be-- a damsel-- in distress?”

     “We’re out and about and Ivy is busy turning the Narrows into her new garden. Of course, she’s going to be a damsel. She’ll probably be trapped in Ivy’s vines and Damian’s going to be the one who’ll cut her down and save her.” Dick swoons towards Damian who harshly shoves him away and jumps off the rooftop to leave his eldest brother behind.

     Tim’s voice filters in his ear as he glides over rooftops, “Or it could be a bad guy. Probably out looting and taking advantage of the chaos just like these guys.” They all hear Tim grunt as he kicks and punches.

     Damian groans and glares at the night sky. They’re damage control while Batman handles Ivy by himself. From what they’ve been hearing through his comm, Ivy’s trying to find new territory after the mayor sold her greenhouse to an out-of-town developer.

     “You’re always such a party pooper, Tim.”

     “At least I’m not narrating R-rated romance novels.”

     “Hey! Those are quality gol--”

     Damian stops in an alley and turns off his comms. He hides in the shadows. Stands still in the darkness, holding his breath before releasing it through his shaky lips. He loosens the collar of his tunic and breathes out of his mouth slowly.

     Finally, he rolls up his sleeve and the glowing red numbers light up his face.

     9 minutes.

     He remembers his mother kissing the last digit after she said goodbye. After expressing her distaste for his link all his life, why did she kiss it so gently? What did it mean? Why did she look so sad? Was she worried? Scared?

     Damian Wayne has grown up waiting for the day when his timer would stop, when all the waiting would stop, when all the uncertainty and guesswork would finally come to an end.

     “Robin!”

     His comms are overridden and Batman’s voice blares through. “There’s another stray headed to your location.”

     “On it.”

     Damian’s running. Heading toward the screaming.

     “Damian, how many more minutes?”

     “Dick, focus!”

     It’s too late. Damian’s already staring at his still exposed wrist.

      7 minutes. 

     When he reaches the chaos, he sees a monster shaped like a bulb with its vines swinging wildly around, smashing into buildings and wrapped tightly around civilians.

     Dick’s words suddenly haunt him and he wonders if his soulmate is one of them. His eyes roam each victim. Damian wills himself to focus. There’s still a lot of time.

     He unsheathes his katana and cuts away at the animated vines. He catches each civilian as they fall and takes extra care when he lets them down onto the ground. An ambulance arrives when he lays down the last victim. The medics pour out and attend to them. He steals one last look at his wrist.

     2 mins.

     Damian turns his full attention to the monster. He cleans his katana on his sleeve and charges forward. He hacks and slashes at each vine it sends his way. But one vine hits him and sends him flying back. He braces himself for the impact and hits the windshield of a car.

     He groans, back aching, and notices the moving numbers on his arm.

    36 seconds.

     The monster is advancing. Damian grits his teeth. His lips are quivering. He grips the hilt of his weapon and waits. With the monster just a few feet away, Damian yells in frustration and leaps. He comes down to its side and slashes the monster’s head off.

     Its limbs flail in the air without an entity controlling it and one of the larger vines whips around and slams Damian against a building.

     His head smashes against the brick wall and his body slides down to the ground. He feels warm blood drip down his face. It slowly covers his eyes and he sneaks one last look at his wrist.

     3 seconds.

     He feels a gloved hand wipe off the blood on his face and pull on his eyelids. When his eye opens, he hears the three continuous beeps while locking eyes with you.

     “Are you okay? Do you know where you are?” Robin is staring at you through his mask while you flash light into his eye. His pupil constricts and then dilates when you move away the flashlight. “Talk to me, Robin. I need to know if you’ve got a concussion. Do you remember where you are?”

     You watch him blink both eyes and slowly his mouth moves, “Gotham.” You give him a long look before you finally release the breath you’ve been holding.

     Robin is your soulmate. After 27 years of waiting, you finally meet him. But work comes first.

     Your hands move and part his hair to look at the wound. It’s a small gash but it’s going to need stitches. For now, you need to stop the bleeding.

     Damian’s hand covers yours and he brings it down to his face. You watch him stare at the now faded mark on your wrist and slowly he brings it closer to his lips before pressing a kiss against the faded string of numbers.

✧ ✧ ✧

     “Y/N, how many casualties?”

     You’re still not used to having Batman addressing you by name. You clear your throat and stare at thepiece of paper you brought with you to avoid looking at any of them. “7 DOAs and 12 in critical condition but quarantined. Hospital records show that 42 are already in recovery.”

     “Red Robin, how many missing persons reports?”

     “23 but there’s no more ground to cover.”

     “Where else can we look? The rest of the area is still ground zero, Bruce.”

     Batman glares at Jason. He’s still not used to having his name mentioned in front of you. But it’s not like you want to be here. You want to help but you’d rather be out there in an ambulance, reporting to doctors. You’re only here because of Damian.

     He nudges your shoulder with his and waits for you to turn to him. You hide half of your face behind your paper and give your soulmate a deep frown. Damian replies with a quick smile before turning his full attention back to Batman.

     “--still some debris here. Red Robin, Batgirl, and I will look into it. The rest of you take the rest of the night off.”

     Dick and Jason are already getting ready to argue with Bruce when Damian tugs on your hand and leads you to the elevator shaft. When he closes the door, you slump against the scaffolding and sigh. You’re exhausted. It’s another long night in Gotham as usual.

     Damian’s tall form stands next to you, leaning against your shoulder, sending electricity up and down your spine. He’s bowing his head in thought. You eye him curiously and watch his brows meet at the center.

     “You’re sneaking out, aren’t you?”

     Only his eyes turn to you and he smirks. It doesn’t take much for you to decipher what he’s thinking. All you have to do is look and everything is written plainly on his face. Even when his family is around, the stoic demeanor he wears with them is very telling of what calculations he’s making and what he plans to do next.

     You smirk back. “Where to?”

     The shaft doors open automatically when it reaches the top. Damian places his wide palm on the small of your back and guides you out of the secret door. He stops by the wall and leans on it to cage you in with his arms. “If you’re tired, beloved, we’ll stay in.”

     He leans down and kisses you. His lips are chapped from the cold night but his breath is warm like the sun. You find yourself inhaling and tasting all of him without another thought. He pushes you back against the wall with his body molding into your curves. Your breath hitches when his leg presses against your crotch. You push him back gently.

     “Let’s… Let’s sneak out…”

     Damian hasn’t turned 18 yet and you’re ten years older than him. You’ve found it so easy to just lose yourself in his touch, his warmth, his taste. But you have principles. Your rules. Boundaries you’re not willing to cross. He clenches his teeth like an animal baring his fangs.

     Damian doesn’t understand these rules. You’re soulmates. You shouldn’t be bound by such trivial legal matters.

     You slink away but hold his hand. You pull him away from the wall and toward the garage. “Come on. Lives to be saved, my boy wonder.”

     But he tries to be good. Tries to be as good as you. Good enough for you. So he respects your rules, the high standards you’ve set for yourself. Just like how you never try to talk him into a more honest life, knowing that being Robin is what makes him him.

     But destiny is nothing like karma. It plays by its own rules.

     It’s the early morning of Damian’s birthday when Alfred hears the house phone ringing. Damian and his siblings walk in from the cave while Alfred answers it. The boys are loud but exhausted, stretching their limbs and rolling their shoulders to shake away the fight from the night.

     “You excited for the big day, buddy?”

     “Kids finally gonna lose his V card. What do you think?”

     “Takes a special kind of stupid to lose it in an alley, Todd.”

     Tim’s the only one who notices Alfred’s stiff posture and desperate grip on the phone’s receiver. “Alfred?” The others stop and watch Alfred slowly turn to them, gaping, the receiver slowly slips from his grip. “What’s wrong?”

     He’s staring at Damian. His voice breaks when he utters your name.

     They break every speed limit and run every red light on the way to Gotham General Hospital. The emergency room is in chaos and the lobby is filled with people all waiting to see the victims of the accident. The wailing and the sobbing is forcing Damian to hide his head between his knees so he can think.

     The hospital didn’t call Wayne manor. One of your colleagues did. He was about to clock out but as soon as he saw you on the gurney, head bashed in with blood all over your face and in your hair, his knees went weak. He and a few of the other nurses knew you were involved with Damian Wayne and someone had to tell him.

     Four hours ago, a building collapsed near the hospital parking lot where the ambulances are parked. You and your colleagues were headed home when it happened. They’re only letting immediate family members in and no one in Damian’s family is listed as your emergency contact.

     “Is anybody in there with her?”

     “We can’t divulge that kind of information, sir.”

     “We’re her only family in Gotham!”

     “Unless you’re listed in her contacts, we can’t let you in.”

     “Check again! We should be in there--”

     “Stop!”

     Damian shouts in the waiting room, making all the chatter and buzzing cease. He stares at Bruce, Dick, and Jason before marching toward them and grabbing his brothers by the collar. “Just stop. Let them do their job.”

     You’ve told Damian enough stories about the hospital and the different types of behavior the nurses had to deal with. You don’t blame them because it’s their loved ones in question but you just wish they’d understand that wasting the nurses’ time helps no one.

     Damian lets go of his brothers and waits for them to take a seat. Bruce looks at his son. “I thought she would put one of us as her contact.”

      Damian’s mouth stretches into  a line, “I knew she didn’t. Y/N was sure I’d be the first to respond if something happens. She believed in me.”

     “Thank you,” the nurse says to him. “I’ll call you as soon as Y/N’s ready for visitors.”

     Damian nods at her and sits down with his brothers. He did the right thing but he feels sick to his stomach. He suddenly gags and Cass is quick enough to shove a trash can under his head. His retching echoes in the still quiet room.

     By the time they’re called them in, the waiting room is half empty and Damian’s birthday is almost over. They stand in front of your hospital room door with Damian’s hand on the handle. He’s staring at the timer’s faded mark on his wrist.

     His siblings turn to each other but neither rushes him in. Bruce gently places his hand on his son’s shoulder. After a sharp intake of breath, Damian finally turns the handle.

     The artificial light is glaring hard at your heavily bandaged head. Your open mouth is covered by a nebulizer and IV packs hung beside your bed.

     “Why…” Dick’s voice is breaking and almost a whisper. “Why does she need so many?”

     Bruce purses his lips when he answers, “The building collapsed from neglect over the years but the Joker was using one of the empty apartments for storage.”

     “What was in it?” Tim asks, making Jason elbow him and shush the rest of them.

     “Do you really think this is the time?” he nudges his head toward Damian who’s standing right next to your bed and holding your free hand.

     Damian has tuned them out the moment he saw you. He lowers himself and lays his chin near your shoulder. He watches your chest rise and fall and hopes your eyelids would open.

     “Y/N. Please.”

     It’s almost sunrise when you finally wake up. The room is quiet but the repeated beeping of machines helps stir you into consciousness. You blink and wait for your eyes to adjust to the darkness. You’re in a hospital room crowded with hunched sleeping forms littered about.

     You feel someone’s fingers intertwined with yours and your eyes land on a small mop of black hair lying on your bed. Instinctively, you reach out and ruffle it out, the tips of his hair feel familiar on your fingers. The boy wakes slowly and then his eyes widen as he stares at you.

     “Y/N.”

     He stands up quickly and hovers over you, unsure of how close he could get but you can see that he wants to embrace you. Slowly, the others start waking. The two eldest men quickly run out and you can hear them calling for a doctor.

     You unclasp the tube from your mouth with one hand and release it from your mouth with a pop. You cough a few times and the boy gently helps you sit up and rubs your back until your breathing eases. You turn to him, curious.

     “I feel like… I should know you.”

     The others are halfway up at this point. Your words made them stop. They all watch Damian’s eyes stare deeply into yours with his eyebrows almost meeting in the middle.

     “What do you mean?”

     You stare at him, studying his face and trying to place where you’ve seen him. “You’re… Damian Wayne, aren’t you?”

     You feel Damian’s fingers let go of your hand and his body takes an involuntary step back.

     The doctor comes in and realizes what he’s walked into.  He asks to speak to you alone. Everyone slowly filters out and crowds the hallway in front of your room.

     Tim’s the first one who approaches Damian, reaching up to place a hand on his shoulder. “It’s just retrograde amnesia. There’s a good chance Y/N will get her memories back.”

     Damian looks at his brother before he nods to him.

     “What if she doesn’t?”

     “Jason.”

     “No, seriously. What if.”

     Damian glares at Jason who’s not letting up. The others aren’t intervening because it’s one of those rare moments where Jason could be right. “You gotta be ready for the worst here, kid. What are you going to do?”

     Damian turns away from him and peers into your room. Even in your condition, you look as bright as you always have to him. Suddenly, you catch Damian looking at you. He quickly tenses and stands up.

     “Are you running away?” Jason blocks his path, acting like a real brother even though he isn’t. “Aren’t you her soulmate, huh, Damian Wayne?”

     “That name doesn’t mean anything to her right now!”

     The doctor steps out into the hallway, forcing the boys to shut their mouths and glare at each other. He coughs and turns to Damian. “Excuse me. Y/N’s asking for you.”

     Damian stares at him but doesn’t move. Jason slowly pushes both of his shoulders toward the door. You see him and make a small wave.

      “We’ll wait out here,” Jason whispers to him before gently pushing him into the room and closing the door behind Damian.

     You wait as he slowly walks up to you. “So, Fred tells me you’re my soulmate.”

     Damian stops just a foot away from your bed. It takes a moment but his demeanor changes. He presses the soles of his feet firmly on the ground and it lets him look you in the eyes with more ease. “I am.”

     He says it with such intensity that makes you turn away when you feel a warm blush coating your cheeks. You try to cover them with your hands and breathe out a shaky laugh. “Wow. I mean-- just wow. How long have we been…”

     “9 months.”

     You feel your cheeks heat up even more. You press your palms on your face, trying to hide yourself. “Phew… 9 months. And I actually-- But you’re not even 18 yet. Gosh.”

     Damian’s hands touch yours, making you flinch. He slowly pulls your hands away. You open your eyes and find his face so close to you. “I’m 18 now. It was my birthday yesterday,” he whispers, his warm breath blowing on your face, a familiar feeling that makes your fingers itch to reach out and touch the back of his neck.

     “Oh… Happy birthday, Damian.”

     Damian’s gaze drops to your lips but they look back up just as quickly. When he looks into your eyes, dilated and roaming his face, he remembers the first time you met. He can almost hear those three beeps.

     “Hey…” You watch big tears drop from his eyes. When you wipe them he seems shocked they’re there. “Come here.” You pull him close, making him climb onto your bed and curl up beside you. He rests his head on your shoulder and you hold him tighter when he shakes. “It’s okay,” you rub his head and your fingers untangle his unkept hair. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

     “Why…” he chokes out. “Why aren’t you questioning any of this? Why do you believe it so easily? Your timer’s run out. There’s no way to know if I’m really your soulmate.”

     You sneak a look at his arm and touch his faded marks. “I think… my soulmate wouldn’t be the type of person who would take advantage of an amnesiac.”

     Damian lifts his head and looks at you. “You’re too…”

     “Gullible?” you laugh.

     “Good.”

     You go still. “Does that mean I changed?”

     He looks at you. Your head is completely wrapped with bandages but your eyes still gleam when you watch him, pupils roaming to look for little tells hiding beneath his face. That small hidden smirk on your lips that slowly emerges when you finally piece something together, a mystery he didn’t know you were unravelling.

    Damian looks at you and all he sees is his beloved.

     “No,” he answers. “You’re still you.”

     You smile at him, “See? If I fell for you once then I’ll do it again. Especially now that you’re legal.”

     Damian snorts when he laughs. Unable to control it he hides his face on your shoulder, making you laugh along with him.

✧ Watchtower Masterlist ✧  

[jamespotterthefirst]

Unsaid (Ethan x MC)

Book: Open Heart Book 2 Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x f!MC  (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 706 Summary: The last time they see each other before he leaves to Brazil

Prompt: #21. “Stop worrying about you? Stop worrying about you?! I can barely stop thinking of you!”

Another explosion of laughter and cheers reached him at his usual place at the bar. For a slow night at Donahue's, the amount of celebration that particular group was doing seemed almost out of place. Then again, she was in the middle of it, drunk beyond comprehension and ten times more lively than when sober. 

Ethan tore his eyes away from her laughing face with some effort. The incessant yearning that gnawed at his insides whenever he looked at her was becoming pure agony. 

In minutes, he heard that distinct laugh again, this time nearby as she approached the bar. Ethan pointedly stared at his glass, though he could see out of the corner of his eye that the paramedic, Aveiro, accompanied her. 

“I got them,” she was saying, placing her hand on his muscular forearm. It made something coil unpleasantly in Ethan's gut. “I'm not as think as you drunk I am.”

“Very convincing, Lilac.” The paramedic laughed pleasantly. “I'll get the drinks for everyone and you can find us a table in the beer garden. How's that?”

With very little protest, Lilac moved towards the garden exit, not sparing a single glance toward Ethan. He took a swig of his drink, pretending the slight did not affect him when in fact, his chest felt as though it had been stomped on. 

One minute of pretending was enough to prove Ethan was a terrible actor, however. He stole a glance at her retreating form, noticing how she stumbled in her drunken state. Before he knew what he was doing, he was on his feet, following her out into the golden cast of the string lights. 

Ethan reached her just in time for she stumbled at the doorway. Before either of them could blink, he leaped forward and caught her in his arms. Lilac dissolved into a giggling mess. “Sorry about—” 

Her words cut off abruptly when she realized it was him. All traces of that stunning smile disappeared at once, her body tensing where he held her. 

“Are you alright?” 

“Fine.”

The silence between them was deafening. Despite the resentment in her eyes, Ethan could not look away, surrendering to the pull she held over him. 

Tell her. 

“You're drunk,” he observed quietly instead. 

A small sliver of hurt became evident in her expression. “Not drunk enough.” 

At long last, she freed herself from his grasp, averting her eyes to the ground. Perhaps she too was afraid of what her mind would conjure if their eyes met again. Memories of their tangled bodies, desperately moving together as they raced to the end of their relationship. As they settled into their inevitable roles of attending and intern with every stolen kiss. 

“How are you getting home? I can take you—” 

“Stop,” she pleaded, glancing up to cut him a glare. “You don't get to do that anymore.”

“Do what?” 

“Act like we're… something. You made it very clear you only ever want to be my boss.”

Her words were far less slurred than before but she still struggled to retain control of them. It struck Ethan belatedly that she was fighting against the tears. 

“I still worry about you, Lilac.” 

“Well, don't,” she snapped. “I'll be fine.”

“Lilac,” he started, feeling his own frustration starting to boil. 

Tell her now. 

“Don't!” 

Her voice was rising over the music now, earning them curious glances from a nearby couple. 

“You can stop worrying about me!”

Ethan felt something snap. 

“Stop worrying about you? Stop worrying about you?! I can barely stop thinking of you!”

The words rang between them like a gunshot. 

Lilac looked at him, stunned. 

He couldn't take the words back now, even if they were true. The hurt and the heartbreak from the past week had reared its head. “We can't—” he stated, but stopped to try again. “We shouldn't do this now.”

 Her eyes shone with unshed tears. “You should go.”

Ethan nodded once and obeyed, leaving her side without stopping to memorize her face or without saying a proper goodbye. With a pang, he realized that would be the last time he saw her before he left for Brazil. 

And, like the coward that he was, he hadn't been able to tell her. 

*

50 Ways to Say “I Love You” prompts | Prompts Masterlist

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A/N: Thank you @nerdydinosaursweets​ for the prompt! Also, thank you to everyone that voted on the prompts. You guys chose the only angst one lol

Tags: @openheart12​ | @ethandaddyramsey​ | @aestheticartsx​ | @noboundariesplease | @silverlitskies​ |  @flyawayboo​ | @paulfwesley​ | @hatescapsicum​ | @myusualnerdyself​ | @thatysn​ | @choicesyouplayandmore​ | @chasingrobbie​ | @trappedinfandoms​ | @togetherwearerapture​ | @nooruleman​ | @axwalker​ | @parkerattano​ | @i-bloody-love-drake-walker​ | @kaavyaethanramsey​ | @edith-eggs1​ | @choices-lurker​ | @jens-diamondchoices​ | @tefigranger​ | @ethanrcmsey​ | @coffeebeandragon​ | @senator-adrian-raines-wifey​ | @binny1985​ | @mvalentine​ | @sanchita012​ | @drethanramslay​ | @ramseysno1rookie​ | @takeharryandgo​ | @aworldoffandoms​ | @desmaranj​  | @oofchoices​ | @ethxnrxmsey​​ | @octobereighth​​ | @kopenheart12​​ | @lilyvalentine​​ | @honeyandsunfl0wers​​ | @virtualrain202 | @enmchoices​​ | @tyrilstouch​​ | @rookie-ramsey​​ | @humanpokemon​​ | @apphia12​​ | @kiara-36​​ | @eramsey28​​ | @whippedforethanramsey​​ | @custaroonie​​ | @helloblueeyedcat​​ | @dr-ramseys-rookie​​ | @thegreentwin​

@dulceghernandez​​​ |  @lion-ess24 | @emotionalswift2 | @the-soot-sprite |  @angela8756

[netflixbingger]

I’ll Find You - Part 1

Chapter 1: Zuzu To The Rescue - Prince Zuko x Reader

Summary: Y/N and Zuko were thick as thieves growing up. Of course at a young age the idea of romantic love isnt really thought about, but from a outsiders perspective it is clear as day that Y/N and Zuko’s friendship will blossom into something much more. As the two grow with one another, they are slowly pulled apart to become enemies. Soon Y/N finds herself amongst the Avatar, but can she put aside her longing feelings for Zuko and fight for what is right? And can Zuko prove to her that there is still good within him?

Word Count: 1,408

Notes: Hi Guys! I know this idea has been written a few times within the Zuko fandom, but I couldn't help it... I’m a sucker for reunited friends turn into lovers :P This first chapter is just a short drabble to show the type of friendship that Zuko and Y/N had as little kids. I think its important to see the friendship at different ages to show their personal growth. 

You tried to control your breathing, tried to steady the airflow leaving your mouth in heavy pants. You were anxious, gripping the grass below you like your life depended on it. You felt like you had been running for miles only for him to continuously find you. But not this time, you won’t allow it. Your eyes strained to see through the bushes, but you were still able to make out the running figures of your friends trying to find a spot to hide. Thinking you were safe from his clutches you let your body fully collapse to the ground. After a few minutes you were beginning to regain your breath, but you froze as you heard a crunch of leaves behind you and an ominous voice that followed, “I told you, wherever you go, I will find you.”

Slowly clenching your eyes shut you turned around to face your seeker, Prince Zuko. His hair was pulled back from his face as tiny beads of sweat were beating off his mischievous brows. He wore a playful smirk as he began to corner you in. Kneeling down to level with your eyes he slowly reached his hand out and lightly tapped your nose. “Tag, you’re it” he chuckled before turning away and disappearing behind the bushes. Damn it, you hated being it ; it was almost impossible to catch up with Ty Lee, she was always twirling around and showing off her athletic abilities. Mai was always so well hidden that no one ever found her, she’d make it through the entire game without being caught once. The game of tag always ended in bickering back and forth between your friends, especially when Azula played. She never played by the rules and would throw threats if you came close to finding her. The only person that played the game honestly was Zuko; he stayed in territory and never used his “stunts”, at least not with you.

Sighing, you got up from your sitting position on the grass and stepped out into the field. You looked around aimlessly hoping to find one of your friends. You’d throw an occasional remark into the air hoping to catch a chuckle, but the garden remained silent. After a few minutes of walking the perimeter of the pond, you placed yourself underneath the trees preparing to give up. But as you leaned back on the rough bark, you heard a set of giggles. Immediately looking around, you were confused when you discovered you were alone. It was only when you heard a “shush” that you realized the noises were coming from above you. Quickly looking upward you were surprised to see 3 of your friends sitting atop the tree branches. “Come on guys,” you yelled crossing your arms, “You know I can’t climb well!”

Azula’s sly chuckle responded, “Oh, just add it to your list”

You clenched your jaw trying to hold back the amount of insults you could throw her way. “Just come on down, this isn't fair and you know it.” You didn't have the willpower to stop your foot from stomping on the ground as you tried to hold in your tears. Happy to see Mai begin to descend down the tree, you were left disappointed as she was shortly stopped by Azula. “Oh, don't cry about it. I never said we were going to play fair, besides it's good practice! See this as a climbing exercise,” she smirked, “Come get us.”

You pushed the sleeves of your dark crimson dress away from your hands as you stepped closer to the tree. You wanted to climb up there and prove Azula wrong, but the moment your hands touched the bark you chickened out. How did they get up there? Your thoughts were soon disrupted as you heard the mean whispers between the 3 girls. Staring upwards once again, you threw an angered glare in their direction. But your annoyance disappeared as you heard the comforting voice of your friend Zuko from behind you. “Azula, cut it out”. Suddenly you were no longer mad and upset, but instead a sense of pride filled your body as the boy defended you.

However that pride quickly dispersed as the chuckling above continued, “Oh look, Zuzu has come to save the day.” Azula and Ty Lee laughed at your and Zuko’s reddened faces, both blabbering on how Zuko always had to come to your rescue.

“Azula, get down from there.” The stern but soft voice seemingly appeared from nowhere and ended all comments. You didn't need to turn around to know who it belonged to, Ursa’s voice was a sound you could never forget. 

Ursa was basically family to you, she and your mom were close with one another, best friends even. Your mom would tell you stories of her and Ursa as teenagers and how they would explore the nations together. Your mother's friendship was the reason why you were so close to Zuko, and even to Azula at times. You were introduced to the two siblings a few years ago when your family moved from the colonies into the city. As soon as Ursa got the news of your mother's move she was quick to invite your whole family over. Your parents intended on forging a friendship between Azula and yourself, but they were surprised when you formed a stronger connection with Zuko. The two mothers would chuckle at the awkward exchanges in the beginning, but both soon hoped for a future marriage as they watched your friendship grow. 

There was no denying that you were a pretty girl. Even at the age of 9 there wasn't any doubt that you would grow into a beautiful young lady, suitable for Zuko’s hand in marriage. Ursa had never intended on arranging any type of relationship between the two of you, but she was rather hopeful as she watched you grow with one another. There was a spark between you that was undeniable. Even Firelord Ozai was able to see the chemistry between the two young children, but he refused any talk of courtship until your firebending skills improved. He believed that the future rulers of the Fire Nation needed to be strong and ruthless, no signs of weaknesses were allowed. So, as he watched you and Zuko play with the turtle ducks instead of practicing your bending, he began to despise the idea of his son's friendship with you.

“Alright little one, time to head in, say your goodbyes,” Ursa’s soft voice spoke as she watched your and Zuko’s faces fill with shock. Zuko was quick to turn towards his mother, pulling gently on her sleeve. “But moooom, can’t they stay just a little bit longer?”

“I'm afraid that isn't up to me Zuko. Y/N’s mother needs to go home, it’s getting dark out.”

“What about a sleepover?” the young boy exclaimed with a slight crack in his voice.

“Zuko, Y/N slept over last week, now come on,” Ursa firmly grabbed onto Zuko’s hand as she stared within the trees. “Azula, please climb down from there.”

Your mother chuckled as she watched the exchange; tugging on your hand, she began to pull you from the scene and towards the door. You waved your goodbyes at the boy and threw him a toothless smile as Azula jumped from the trees with grace. Brushing off the dirt and twigs from her clothes, she yelled, “Don't worry Y/N, I’m sure Zuko will be able to play dolls with you tomorrow!”

Your eyes widened as Zuko angrily whispered,”That was one time!”

As your mother laughed at Zuko’s words, you couldn't help but blush with embarrassment. Your friends’ bickering slowly dimmed as your mother dragged you further out of the palace. It was times like these where you wished your family lived closer to Zuko’s home, lucky Mai got to stay almost all night as her walk home was less than a minute. But as you pulled further into the city, you held your head high and stared at the forming stars above. You couldn't help but smile at the thought of Zuko gazing at the same stars that were painted in the sky. Giggling to yourself in glee, you told your mother of the fun you had with your friends and how excited you were to see them again tomorrow. And maybe Azula was right, maybe you would get to play dolls with Zuko tomorrow!

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Tell me your thoughts below!

Also, special thanks to @shaynawrites23​ + @pph0le​ for all their help with this story!

[perriewinklenerdie]

Taking my heart by storm (Ethan x MC)

Open Heart, Ethan Ramsey x MC

A/N: Hi guys! How are you guys doing today? It’s da weekend, bby. I’m back with another Friday fic. The idea for this one came to me when I was driving my cats to the vet and the storm was going on. We can all thank Mother Nature and her breakdown for that one entirely :D Also, the real MVP Naveen makes an appearance in this, because PB is hiding him and that’s some serious bs right there.

Summary: Ethan and Claire share a kiss in the rain in the greenhouse after storm cuts the lights out.

Enjoy! <3

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Since noon, the clouds have been crowding the sky, prompting the storm that was coming. Ethan’s shift has just ended when the first sound of a thunder rolled through the walls of the hospital. It was a hectic day, a wave of flu bringing more people to the free clinic and slippery ice sending many people tumbling to the ground, sprains and broken limbs overpowering the cases doctors had to face.

Unsurprisingly, Ethan couldn’t wait to get home. Especially since he knew for a fact that tonight, he wouldn’t be alone. Claire has accepted his invitation earlier that day, smiling every time she saw him, vision of them going home together never too far away from her mind. That smile of hers was what he thought about fairly often, and for the past few weeks, he was admitting it both to himself and to Claire. And with each day that he opened up to her more, it became easier to let her in.

The last time he saw her was two hours ago, when they finished consulting for a patient of the team. Since then, they communicated through texts, much to her amusement, and he had no doubts that she would be teasing him about it, like she always did. And he always would tell her that she’s lucky he cared about her, or he wouldn’t let it slide this easily.

He grabbed his bag and closed the office behind him, taking his phone out to text her once again, asking where she was. Not a minute later, he knew where he was supposed to go, aiming his steps towards her. No nurse or doctor dared to stop him, one look at his tired form letting them know it’s best to steer clear.

The entrance to the garden was tucked away from the view, and not many people knew about its existence, not even people working there. For that reason, the hall leading up to it was empty, as was the garden itself. The bench in the middle of the room was occupied.

Claire was lying down, the tips of her hair brushing the ground. Both hands resting on her stomach, moving up and down with every breath she took. Her eyes were closed, face a picture of complete calmness, a stark contrast to the angry wind that shook the trees outside and smacked raindrops against the glass of the orangery.

Ethan placed his bag on the ground by the entrance, then leaned against the doorframe, watching her silently. It’s a very rare sight for him lately, to see her so blissfully relaxed and detached from the issues of the hospital. Of course, when they were alone, it was fairly easy for both of them to forget about their problems. At work, though, the fatigue and dread followed them like their own shadows, never too far behind.

With the next breath of his, she stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open, feeling that she was being watched. She took a moment to let her eyes readjust to the brightness of the room, a small moan escaping her lips. Ethan reached for the switch, dimming the lights a bit to make it easier for her, giving her a clear sign that she wasn’t alone anymore. Her head turned towards him, the corners of her lips going up at the sight of him.

“Hi.” She muttered, her voice raspy and deep. Her body didn’t move, not even an inch, as he walked towards her slowly, keeping his eyes on her firmly.

“I thought you left, with how long ago I last saw you.” he mused, keeping a bit of distance between them, just in case someone was to walk in on them, however unlikely it was. Claire grinned, raising her hands above her head to stretch. Her words were strained when she spoke again.

“I have plans for the evening. Maybe even for the night if things work out.”

Despite them both being still in the hospital and having it hanging over their heads, Ethan couldn’t fight the smile nor the acceleration of his pulse at what she was alluding to. “I assure you that whoever invited you has similar things on his mind.”

Slowly, she sat up, her hair falling over her shoulders and framing her face and neck. With a slow and controlled move, she beckoned him closer, crooking her finger and looking at him with a sultry smile. It was dangerous, how fast he reacted accordingly to her wishes, without stopping for even a second to think about what they were doing. When he was close enough to hear her low whisper, she found his gaze with hers, her eyes darkening slightly.

“Similar things, huh? Are you sure?” she hooked her little finger with his thumb, then released it so she could slide her hand up his arm. Each time she touched him, a wave of heat ran to the very core of him. She traced the shapes on the skin on the inside of his elbow, all the while looking at him with the intensity that he’s seen countless of times before. “Why don’t you show me what you’re thinking about right now?”

He cupped the side of her face with his other hand, stroking her cheekbone softly, his mind giving up the fight with each move their fingers made. Getting down on his knees, he slid his palm down the side of her neck, squeezing her shoulder on his way, until, finally, he let it linger on her thigh. He opened his mouth to say something, but before any words could form, a harsh roar of a thunder interrupted him. Moments later, the lights flickered and then went out, drowning them in darkness.

“How long until the backup power modules begin working?” Claire muttered, as though the atmosphere dictated how loud they could be. Ethan listened to the hum of the rain before he answered.

“The power kicked back in immediately, so all the machinery is still working. As for the lights, though, it can be a few minutes.”

“How long?” she asked again, leaning towards him blindly, knowing only the general direction in which she should be heading. Lightning struck, bringing their sight back for a short moment, raindrops casting shadows on their faces, enhancing the lines of their features.

“Give or take, ten minutes. Why?”

“No reason.” She shrugged, pulling on his hand and bringing him flush against her, their lips brushing together. This close, she could almost see the hint of light, reflecting in his eyes, though she could have been imagining things. His hands found their place on her back, keeping them close together. He could argue that it was to keep them both safe, prevent possible injuries if one of them were to move and trip over something, but he knew damn well that his one and only purpose was to feel her warmth. To smell her perfume. To feel her arms wrap around him and keep him close.

With the next lightning, he focused on her lips. How the corners remained turned up, just as they were before the power went out. How the shape of them fit his too perfectly for their meeting to have been an accident. The pull towards her he felt was too strong for him to fight, and yet, for so long, he tried to resist it. Only to, in the end, dive into the storm that she was, slowly letting her consume him whole.

When the darkness came back, he pulled her into the kiss. It’s slow and light, unlike the quick kiss she gave him before she left his apartment that morning. Unlike the ravenous kisses they attacked each other with the night before, right after the door to his home closed behind them. There’s no heat, no desire other than that to keep the other close and not let go. There’s no doubt, either, just pure certainty, warmth and care, evident in the way his arms held her tightly and in the way her grip on his shoulders was secure.

Water continuously fell from the sky, drumming against the glass ceiling of the greenhouse, almost entirely masking the quiet sounds they were making. Claire wouldn’t have been able to notice how he hummed against her lips if it wasn’t for the gentle vibrations it was causing, teasing her nerve endings.

Ethan leaned away eventually, using a glimpse of light to look at her again. His heart hammered in his chest, his cheeks must have been flushed and he was sure that he looked positively infatuated. Staring at her in the dark, he could see with his memories how she glanced at him in moments like these; flickers of happiness in her eyes and a soft smile lighting up her face, brighter than any source of light ever could.

“That’s as close to the kiss in the rain as we’ll ever get.” Claire giggled quietly, moving her hand to stroke his cheek with the back of her fingers. He welcomed the sensation, leaning into her touch. She couldn’t possibly see his teasing smirk, but he had a feeling she knew it was there.

“Who knew such an idiotic idea could be so pleasant.” He wondered out loud, waiting for a reaction of hers. And he got just that. She scoffed, punching his arm playfully before falling into his embrace again with a sigh as the storm raged outside.

----------

Naveen slowly navigated the long halls of his hospital, flashlight in hand, searching for people caught by the darkness. So far, he managed to guide three lost patients that went on a walk and couldn’t find their way back when the power went out, and that prompted him to go on.

Knowing that not many of his colleagues were even aware of the existence of the garden, he decided to go there himself. How was it possible that people worked there for years but not know about all the locations in their workplace was beyond him, but he didn’t have time to wonder about it in that moment.

He called out loudly as he walked, listening in for any signs of voices, but there was no answer. No sound other than the angry howls of the storm outside. His flashlight shone rays of brightness onto the walls and the floor, and once he reached the greenhouse, it pierced through the glass and reflected in the leaves of many plants that grew there.

Upon entering the room, he called out again, moving the flashlight around slowly. “Hello? Is anyone here- oh.”

Naveen stopped abruptly, taking in the sight in front of him. He expected a lot of things, and a lot of people, but no matter how many times he blinked, the picture didn’t disappear. It was very much real.

Ethan sat up faster than he thought he could at the sound of his mentor’s voice. Some time has passed since the lights have gone out, and when kisses transitioned into a tight embrace, he pulled her onto the ground, both of them lying down so they could watch the sky as the clouds went by, lit up by lightning strikes from time to time. It almost felt like it could have been their first date, but neither of mentioned it.

When Naveen found them, Ethan’s hand was running up and down Claire’s arm, their bodies pressed close as the low hum of the rain almost lulled them both to sleep. Upon interruption, Ethan, and shortly after Claire, sat up, both immediately awake and aware of how busted they were.

They stared at each other for a long while, unsure what were the words that were supposed to be said. Eventually, Naveen broke out of the trance, nodding his head slowly in acknowledgement. In the darkness of the garden he couldn’t be sure, but he was pretty much certain that Ethan’s cheeks were taking on a bit of a darker color. It was Claire that confirmed it for him when she eventually cut the silence.

“Go easy on him with the teasing.”

Ethan’s head turned towards her in record time, his face spelling out mock betrayal, which made her laugh even more than she already was. She patted his shoulder with her extended hand, muttering ‘there, there’, a joke that he was clearly not amused by. Naveen watched them with a growing grin.

“You two are adorable.” His words caused the pair to look at him with surprise in their eyes. He walked towards them, extending his hand in Claire’s direction to help her up. She accepted it, standing up and pulling Ethan right along with her. “The lights are going to be gone for at least another hour, so you two should go home.”

Ethan’s annoyance was crystal clear in the way he spoke. “I can literally hear you smiling, Naveen, what’s got you so amused?”

“I’m just wondering, how did you wear him down, Claire? I’ve spent years trying to get him to go fishing with me and he wouldn’t budge.”

She laughed, squeezing Ethan’s arm before she walked towards the exit with Naveen by her side, telling him her strategy as though it was a well-kept secret. Ethan stayed in the garden for a moment longer, watching their silhouettes go with an easy smile before he followed them back towards the hospital.

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Tag list (I): @paleweasels | @kittykatchoices | @valiantlychaoticbarbarian |   @radlovedreamer | @usuallyamazinglyaverage | @awhmilkywey |   @cordoniaqueensworld | @princess-geek​ | @faithhasnowords | @mightyfangirlofthefandoms​ | @drakewalkerfantasy​ | @timmagicktoad​  @laceandlula​ | @greywitchyshots​ | @llamasgrl​ |  @gingerjane15​ |    @marywrites-things​ | @ethanplaysfavorites​ | @mfackenthal​ | @betelgeusebee​ | @simsvetements​ | @owleyes374​ | @aworldoffandoms​ | @l822​ | @cream-ray​ | @silverlitskies​ | @justendlesssummerfeels​ | @togetherwearerapture​ | @desmaranj​ | @edgiestwinter​ | @friedherringclodthing​ | @waytooattuned​ | @choicesgremlin​ | @lapisreviewsstuff​ | @writerapprentice​ | @chasingrobbie​ | @x-kyne-x​ | @thisperfectmemory​ | @drakewalker04​ | @rookie-ramsey​ | @jlynn12273​ | @thepinknymph​ |  @dr-brianna-casey-valentine​ | @a-i-n-a-a-s-h | @justanotherrookie​ |  @mvalentine​ | @starrystarrytrouble​ | @akshara16​ |  @maurine07​

[love101imagines]

One thing left to try

request: Could you pls write a fic with sinan? Using prompts 13,15,22,29 and 34 from the first list. I thought of maybe At a party y/n needs Sinan's help, so that Burak stops chasing her, so he pretends to be her partner, when Burak doesn't leave her alone, Sinan starts a fight. Thanks!

tag list: @peraltwolf @zaynlikfalls @wwafangirld

prompts used: 13. Don't look at me like that. 15. Just pretend to be my date. 22. You're not my friend anymore, remember? 29. Where did you get those bruises? 34. I'm used to it, don't worry.

"Işik, are you sure you're ready for a high school party?" You asked slowly, your arm wrapped around the blonde girl who held tightly her purse.

Eda next to you chuckled. "You're ready for alcohol? And for people making out with each other? And the smell of cigarettes everywhere?"

"There's nothing to worry about." Isik cut you both off shaking her head. "I'm only here because Osman asked us to come. And nothing bad will happen, they're our classmates."

Eda shrugged. "I'm here for the free booze."

You rolled your eyes with a smile, fixing a bit your skirt while you reached the house where the party was taking place.

"Should we wait for the guys?" You asked glancing at all the cars that were parked in almost the whole block, internally hoping to see one boy in particular.

You stood on your tiptoes trying to recognize any of them, already knowing that Kerem was coming with Osman with his own car.

"Nah." Eda brushed it off. "I bet Sinan isn't even coming, and it's already crowded inside."

You were slightly discouraged. You didn’t want one boy to control your whole mood without truly knowing, but you couldn’t avoid feeling that way towards him. You two had been friends for a while before you got closer with the whole expulsion thing. The girls already knew about your feelings for Sinan, but you wouldn’t risk ruining one of your friendships only because of a crush.

"Are you sure?" Işik asked a bit worried, but you were already opening the door without knocking.

You three were instantly greeted by loud music and people everywhere. The walls seemed to shake from the heavy bass blasting through the speakers, hurting your ears but you tried not to mind.

You turned to Işik with a smile. "So? What do you think?"

She opened her mouth to speak, with no words coming out as she looked around the house. You chuckled lightly. "Anyway, I'll grab something to drink. What do you want?"

"A soda, please."

"Beer. We'll...walk around until the boys show up, okay?" Eda said over the music.

You nodded before walking away, greeting a few people and trying not to bump into the many couples who were shoved up against the wall making out or the kids who were too drunk to properly walk.

“You’re no fun, (Y/N).” Eda complained with a huff.

You only took a sip of your soda. "I'm plenty of fun, in fact, I...oh shit."

Before you could notice that Işik was waving at the guys who had just arrived to come over at your place near the kitchen counter, you had already left the room trying not to run into Burak.

You two had talked a few times because you were in the same school year, but since Eda had turned him down, he seemed to be keen on going on a date with you. You wanted to avoid confrontation the best you could, already knowing that when the whole thing with Eda happened, he hadn't reacted well.

So, that was the reason why you were making your way between the crowd of people with one hand covering your can of soda trying to hide from him. The house was crowded, with almost your whole school inside. You weren't even sure whose birthday it was, only receiving the invitation from Osman who had a few extra, giving the rest to your other friends.

Once you found herself outside in the small garden, you allowed yourself to catch a breath. There were only a few people mingling outside, but a hand on your upper back startled you.

You cursed under your breath, almost spilling your soda. "God, you scared me."

Sinan rolled his eyes with an already opened beer in his hand which didn't surprise you. "You okay? I saw you storm off."

You shrugged. "Yeah, I'm fine. I thought you wouldn't come."

He furrowed his brows slightly. "Why?"

You shrugged, tugging on his arm so you could sit down on the steps leading to the garden, trying your best that your skirt wouldn't ride up. "You hate high school parties."

"What's to like from annoying music and people I can't stand being around?" He asked sarcastically making you chuckle. "I was dreading this, but Osman needed us here." He concluded before taking a long sip of his beer.

You nodded. "Yeah, I can't believe we convinced Işik. But it's not that bad."

He glanced at you, absentmindedly fumbling with his hands while you continued sipping on your soda. "You look nice."

It was no secret around your friends how much Sinan adored you. You were the only one he never snapped at unless he was really angry, but he usually kept his emotions at bay. Everybody noticed how his mood changed around you. Everybody but you, not thinking much about how he always seemed to have a faint smile when you were in the same room or how he truly appreciated that you went out of your way to talk to him at least once every day.

You gave him a side smile. "Thanks." You eyed him up and down, wearing his usual grey shirt, black jeans, and combat boots. "You don't look that bad either."

After a few minutes passed and it started to get cold, he nudged you. "Wanna go back inside?"

"Um..." You trailed off even if you truly wanted to go back with the rest. "I'm fine, you go ahead if you want. I'll catch up with you."

He furrowed his brows. "Are you sure you're fine? You seemed pretty upset before." He doubted for a moment while you looked down at the floor. "If you want to leave, we..."

"No." You interrupted shaking your head.

You certainly didn't want to leave. But you knew you couldn't avoid Burak all night, and if you ran into him you would end up snapping at him.

An idea popped into your head, remembering how Burak had left Eda alone when Kerem faked being his boyfriend. "I mean...can you do me a favor?"

It was risky to ask him, but Kerem was already dating Eda and Osman was busy with his business, the main reason why you all were there. And it was only a simple favor, you could hide your true feelings like you had the past weeks.

He shrugged, taking another sip of his beer. "What?"

You gave him a grin trying to convince him to follow your plan. "Can you pretend to be my boyfriend? Please."

He almost choked on his beer, coughing a bit while looking at you with utter confusion. "What the hell?"

"Burak has been annoying me all week and this is the only way he'll leave me alone. Please, Sinan. Just pretend to be my date." You continued, giving him your softest puppy eyes.

He scoffed, looking away to avoid your look. "Don't look at me like that." He mumbled.

"Like what?" You played dumb, continuing looking at him like that so he'd give in.

"Like you've never broken a plate in your whole life." He replied sarcastically. "Why don't you just tell him to fuck off?"

You rolled your eyes. "I've already tried to. Come on, it's only one night. I would do the same for you." You practically begged him.

You expected him to get up and leave, saying that your plan was crazy and didn't have any probability of going right. However, after a few seconds, he sighed and gulped down most of his beer, leaving the empty can next to him. "Fine."

While you smiled and mentally cheered, he turned to you. "What do you need me to do?"

"Improvise." You said like it was obvious. "Just um, flirt with me and act like I'm your girlfriend. It can't be that hard."

Noticing that he still seemed unsure of everything and wasn't really sure of what to do, you continued. "Look, from now on, we aren't friends, we're in a relationship. So, just act like I’d believe everything and lie to me."

He thought about it for a few seconds before nodding, getting up from his spot, and extending his hand to help you get up. When Sinan's fingers skimmed over your wrist gently, you rolled your eyes and grabbed his hand tightly.

"You're not my friend anymore, remember?" You teased before dragging him inside the house.

The stares you two received while walking straight to the kitchen were enough to tell you that you had made the right decision. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Burak staring at you intensely ignoring whatever one of his friends was blabbering on about to him. You could feel that Sinan also noticed that, pulling you closer to him by wrapping an arm around your waist. You almost shivered once you felt his cold hand on the small spot of skin just above your skirt, but you didn't think much about the sparks that ignited at the skin on skin contact.

Once you two reached the kitchen, you grabbed a beer and a soda, handing the alcohol beverage to Sinan who quickly downed it while you sat on the counter, your hands still intertwined.

Eda quickly joined you two. "There you are!" She grinned at you, clearly already a bit tipsy. "Aw, you're holding hands, did you tell him?" She gushed to you, loud enough for him to hear.

You chuckled awkwardly, disconnecting your hands while covering the girl's mouth. "Yes, I told him about Burak." You gritted out, already sure that your cheeks had to be red. "You're already wasted, don't do anything I wouldn’t do." You grinned playfully at the boy, receiving a timid smile from him.

"So you guys are dating now." Eda continued leaning against the counter, a smirk on her face. "That's cool."

"I'll take care of her." Sinan offered, already annoyed with her.

After a few seconds, you nodded, leaving your spot on the counter once you noticed Işik nearby, your eyes lighting up. "Işik, let's dance!"

You weren't sure how many hours had passed that you had been dancing with Kerem and Osman, but after a while, your legs ached from twirling around Işik, so you walked away from the living room to the hallway where there weren't many people.

"(Y/N)!"

A voice calling you out made you stop dead in your tracks, turning around with a fake smile plastered on your face even if you were internally gagging.

"Burak, I didn't see you before." You greeted him, continuing to walk towards the kitchen.

He just followed you, making you roll your eyes when he wasn't staring at you. "You look pretty."

"Mhm." Was all you replied, looking through the fridge to find at least a bottle of water, already knowing that if you left Sinan and Eda alone they had downed at least five more beers each one.

"Here, let me help you with that." He offered as you struggled with four bottles of water.

"I'm fine." You cut him off with confidence. "I've got it, and my friends and boyfriend are waiting for me, so..." You trailed off.

Taking to your advantage the fact that he was too shocked to say anything else, you managed to escape, making a beeline to were your friends were standing in a corner of the room.

"Here you go." You said handing a bottle to Işik, Eda, and Sinan. "I figured it would help if you have a migraine." You explained standing next to Sinan.

He nodded, a faint smile on his face as you wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Osman left after saying he had to do something, and you soon found yourself alone with the boy again after Işik said she was going to the bathroom and Eda dragged Kerem to dance with her.

You sipped absentmindedly on your water. "Thanks for everything, I owe you one."

He shrugged, clearly not bothered by it but you weren't sure if it was because of his emotionless attitude or something else.

Once you'd finished your water, you turned to him. "Come, let's dance."

"No, (Y/N)." He refused immediately shaking his head.

"Sinan, I'm not going to leave you here alone." You persisted, continuing to pull him by his hand.

He wouldn't budge. "I'm already here, dancing crosses the line."

"You can't only come and drink everything that's alcohol."

"I..."

"Not much of a boyfriend, huh?"

Burak's teasing voice made you stop abruptly, glancing at Sinan who only looked at him with a hard stare.

"I'm just saying, I wouldn't leave (Y/N) alone if she was my girl." He continued.

"Well, she isn't yours." Sinan snapped, trying to appear unbothered by him but with a scowl on his face.

You tugged in his arm. "Sinan, let's leave."

"What are you even doing here?" Burak asked sarcastically. "You hate everybody, I'm sure she convinced you to come. Too bad, who knows what could happen to her here..."

You knew those were just empty threats, so while you scoffed and tried to tug him to leave, Sinan only pushed you behind him slightly, making you release your grip on his arm.

"If you even touch a hair on her head I..." Sinan began with his hands balled into a fist.

"Sinan, please. Just cut it off." You tried to argue.

Nevertheless, you already knew he wouldn't listen. He was furious, his jaw clenched, stormy eyes and sending daggers to the boy in front of him.

Burak only snickered. “Tell me, I want to know.” He taunted, getting right into his face. “What are you going to do about it? You’re just going to let me continue flirting with her?”

You rolled your eyes. “Fuck off.”

“Maybe if you relied more on mental strength instead of muscular strength you would have gotten a chance.” Sinan shot back sarcastically.

Burak shoved him, lifting his fist in the air but before he could even punch him, Sinan tackled him into the ground to punch him. You froze, watching how Sinan’s fist hit Burak over and over again until Burak punched his side, making him lose his breath before he pulled Sinan in a chokehold.

“Stop! Stop it, you guys, stop it!” You tried to move towards them to break them apart, stopping once a pair of arms wrapped around her waist.

“Stay out of it,” Osman advised, his eyes staring sullenly at the fight. “You’re only going to get yourself hurt. Işik, hold her.” He called out.

“What’s going on?” The girl asked confused once Osman handed you to her, going straight at the fight to stop it. “Oh my God.” She mumbled, shock on her eyes.

Kerem and Osman broke them apart along with a few other guys. You only could gasp in surprise once you saw Sinan and his bruised cheekbone, along with the cut on his eyebrow.

“Hey, hey, come here. You’re fine.” You tried to comfort him, looping an arm around his shoulders just like Osman.

You couldn’t help but furrow your brows at how he seemed to wince while you tried to get out of the house as fast as possible, not wanting another fight to happen.

You wouldn’t let him out of your sight, so you continued with your arm wrapped around his shoulders, him not complaining but supporting almost his whole body on you.

“We’re not going to fit in.” Işik pointed out once you reached Kerem’s car.

You knew Sinan would just brush it off and say he was fine, but you wouldn’t allow him. “It’s fine, I um...we’ll take a taxi and stop by a pharmacy first. You should go first.”

Before anyone could complain, Eda, still drunk, chuckled. “You two are so cute together.”

You nodded absentmindedly, trying your best to hold Sinan who seemed to still be catching his breath. “Yeah, go and sleep in the back of the car. Take care of her.”

“We will. You take care of him.” Kerem said before getting into the car.

“Bye.”

“See ya!”

“Goodnight.”

Once they left, you sighed, a bit nervous that the boy hadn’t said a word yet. “Come, let’s sit there.”

You slowly walked towards a bench in front of a park. After a few minutes, you reappeared with a bottle of rubbing alcohol and some cotton balls after rushing to a nearby pharmacy.

“Give me your hands.” Your ordered, feeling something break inside of you while you scanned his knuckles with fresh blood and open wounds scattered across them. “Fuck.”

He only pursed his lips, his brows slightly furrowed as he tried not to show how he truly felt until he couldn’t anymore. While you continued cleaning his knuckles, a shaky cough made you stop.

You raised your brow at him. “Lift your shirt.”

He didn’t have any intentions of doing so, his eyes still staring ahead of him before he coughed again. “Sinan, do it.” You ordered again tugging at the end of his shirt.

The red bruises scattered along his abdomen made your breath hitch in the back of your throat, instantly holding your still cold bottle of water against them. “Where did you get those bruises? Oh my God.”

“When Osman held you and Burak pinned me to the ground.” He explained under your worried gaze. “I’m fine, what about you?”

You scoffed. “You aren’t fine. Drink this.”

You handed him your bottle of water, sighing once you noticed the trace of blood coming from his eyebrow, cleaning with your thumb before it reached his cheekbone.

“I’m sorry you got into a fight because of me.” You said softly, your fingers lingering on the bruise on his cheek.

You cupped his face, Sinan instantly leaning into your touch. He had thought about it before, how it would feel to be this close to you, and now it was happening.

“How was I supposed to keep calm when he said that about you?” He asked, his jaw clenching again as he remembered Burak’s words.

You brushed it off, your thumb stroking his cheek to try to comfort him with a simple gesture. “I’m used to it, don’t worry. I don’t care anymore about what he says, he’s an asshole.”

“God, don’t say that.” He furrowed his brows before swallowing. “You shouldn’t be treated like that by anyone.”

His whole body was tense and his breathing was heavy, so you tried to make him listen to you so he would forget about everything. “Hey, just...focus on me, okay?”

He used all his willpower to nod, to not go right at the house again, and continue beating Burak up. "How was the party? Everything you expected?"

"No." You bluntly stated making him chuckle. "What about you? Did you have the awful time you expected?"

He gave you a side smile. "Not really, but I'm never doing it again."

"What? Faking to be my boyfriend?" You teased rubbing your eyes, too tired to care about your mascara probably now smudged.

When he didn't answer and only stared at you with a different expression you decided to take a leap of faith.

You slowly leaned forward, closing the gap between the two you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling your heart on fire while his mind raced, in disbelief that you were actually kissing him. One of his hands found the back of your head, fingers twisting in your hair as he pushed you closer to him, deepening the kiss. You felt his other hand on your lower back, just where your shirt ended.

After a few seconds, you broke apart first, your forehead leaning against his while you held his hand.

"Oh." You chuckled noticing how Sinan's poor lips were now covered in the red lipstick you were wearing and a bit swollen.

You used your thumb to clean it off, almost not noticing the small smile on his face.

"Let's get a taxi, shouldn't we?" He asked.

You nodded and stood up, the boy's arm around your waist keeping you closer to him. With your heart still beating more than usual, you couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if he had followed his instincts and hadn't come to the party.

[ladyblogger-margie]

Boys BBQ

Pairing: Will “Ironhead” Miller x M!Reader

Summary: Will takes you to a BBQ to introduce you to his friends. 

Word Count: 2272

Warnings: 18+ Only (anal sex, handjobs, unprotected sex)

a/n: I saw someone observe that there aren't many M!Reader stories, so I thought I’d do my best to contribute to the void! It’s my first time writing M!Reader, so, I just tried my best. Everyone deserves to be taken care of by our beloved Mr Miller. Plus all my comfort characters are bisexual. 

You hovered over Will as he pumped your hard, well lubed cock in his hand a couple times before lining you up at his entrance. 

“You ready for me, baby?” you asked him as he looked up at you, his pupils blown wide. 

“Hell yes, I want you to fuck me,” he ordered you. 

You pushed inside him slowly. You’d already worked him over well with your fingers, but you wanted to be gentle with him. Will had suffered so much for so long, you never wanted him to suffer with you. 

He on the other hand, didn’t seem as concerned. He wrapped his legs around you tightly and gripped your bicep, urging you on. You pumped into him, your hands firm on the bed framing his face between your arms. He turned his head and kissed the tender flesh of your inner forearm. You slammed into him hard and he squeezed his eyes closed, relishing the impact. His tender kiss turned into a bite and it sent a shiver through your body. 

You brought one hand to his cock and stroked it in time with your thrusts. Both of you were breathing hard and you were starting to lose control of your pace as you climbed closer and closer to your release, your movements were erratic as he propped himself up to his forearms to kiss you on the lips. 

“I love you,” he said, and the shock of it had you coming hot and thick inside him. Your grip on his long, thick shaft grew tighter as you shuddered through your release. He had never said that to you before, and you hadn’t said it either.

You were silent, catching your breath as you pulled him off until he came hot and sticky across his own stomach and chest. You pulled out of him gently, slowly and leaned over his perfect, but scarred, body and licked his cum clean off his defined abs. Your legs were shaky as you helped him clean up, still not saying anything. 

When he was taken care of and cleaned up, you flopped over on the bed next to him. He said he loved you when you were balls deep inside of him, he probably didn’t mean it, right?

“I know what you’re doing,” Will said from beside you. He too was on his back staring straight up at the ceiling of your bedroom. 

“Oh, do you?” you quipped sarcastically. 

“Yes, I do. You’re overthinking this. You think I didn’t mean it when I said I loved you,” Will said, rolling over to look at you with his head propped up on his palm. 

“Maybe,” was all you admitted despite the thoughts racing around your head. You furrowed your brow, he was really good at reading you and had demonstrated that fact since you started dating almost 3 months ago. But there was still so much about him and his life you didn’t know, and while you thought you loved him back, could you ever really love someone you didn’t really know?

“You don’t have to say it back,” Will said, “But I just wanted you to know where I stand.”

Then he pulled you into his side with your head on his chest. You curled into him, unable to resist the comfort of his embrace. You ran your fingers gently over the exposed skin of his body, mindlessly running over the scars on his body, especially the particularly gruesome one on the left side of his abdomen. He said he got it last year, but would never elaborate when you asked. 

“I can’t sleep with you thinking that loud,” Will said with his eyes still closed. 

“I’m just thinking about how I don’t actually know you that well,” you explained. 

“I think you know me pretty well,” Will shrugged. 

“I’ve never met your friends even though you’ve met mine, and I don’t even know if they know I exist,” you blurted out. 

Will tilted your head up and kept a finger under your chin, forcing you to look at him, “You know me better than most, but you’re right, I think it’s time you meet my friends.”

The next Saturday you sat shotgun in Will’s truck on the way to his friend Frankie’s house for a barbeque. You were excited to meet his friends until a terrifying thought flashed in your mind. 

“They know I’m a man, right?” you asked. 

Will smiled that endearing half smile that had your knees weak when he answered, “Yes, they know you’re a man.”

“Oh, okay,” you said, but your relief didn’t last when you had a brand new horrifying thought, “They know we’re dating, right?”

Will squeezed your knee, “Yes, I came out to them years ago, they know I’m bisexual and currently dating a man.”

You sighed deep, “Oh thank god, I wasn’t prepared for some big ordeal.”

He chuckled, “Oh it’s going to be an ordeal alright, I haven’t introduced them to anyone since my fiance, so they are going to be insufferable.”

“No pressure,” you tried to look calm but he saw through you completely. 

“I’m teasing. They’re my family, they just want to make sure I’m okay,” he explained, “But I promise they’re good people.”

You tapped your foot rapidly, an unconscious nervous tick, as you nodded, “Like I said, no pressure.”

Will took his hand from your knee and grabbed your hand instead. He brought it to his lips and kissed the back of your hand.

“They’ll love you,” he promised as he parked in front of a simple house with a well-loved garden out front. 

You weren’t sure if you should hold his hand or not in front of his friends so you elected to carry the case of beer between you two, removing the possibility from the equation, all the while knowing you were overthinking everything as usual. 

Will knocked on the door and a beautiful woman with a toddler in her arms opened the door.

“Will! It’s so good to see you, it’s been too long,” she said, kissing his cheek before she turned to you.

“You must be the one Will’s been spending all his time with,” she said, stretching her hand out to you, “I’m Frankie’s wife, Anna.”

You shook her hand and introduced yourself. 

“Thank you for inviting me today,” you said, “We brought beer, is there somewhere you’d like me to put it?”

“Will knows where the beer fridge is, give it to him and I’ll bring you out back to meet the others,” she turned on her heel and something about her had you Will following her exact instructions without question. 

Will gave you a scratchy kiss in the cheek and a squeeze on the arm before he took the beer from your hand. You darted off behind Anna, barely keeping up as she balanced the toddler and a tray of vegetables through the house.

“Can I take the tray?” you offered and she thrust it into your hand.

“Thanks, honey,” she said, pulling open the door to the backyard and leading you through to where you could hear music playing and smell the barbecue cooking. 

The man behind the barbecue stepped away to meet you at the back door, “Frankie,” he said as he shook your hand and you introduced yourself. 

Frankie pulled you in the backyard and directed you to an open lawn chair, taking the tray from your hands. Sitting around an unlit fire pit were two very attractive men who you assumed must be Pope and Will’s brother Benny. 

Frankie introduced you to them and they both nodded as you took a seat. 

“It’s good to meet you, man,” Benny said and he passed you a beer from the cooler beside him.

“You too, Will talks about you a lot, but you’re not how I pictured you,” you said. 

“Better looking in person, huh?” Benny asked, confident. 

“Well Will’s told me how many fights you’ve lost recently, I thought you’d be uglier for sure, and definitely sporting some fucked up cauliflower ears,” you explained.

Pope and Frankie laughed and Benny let it roll off of him, “Didn't you hear him,” he said,” He says I’m hotter than he expected.”

That only made Pope and Frankie laugh harder and roll their eyes. 

Just then Will came out to the backyard and pulled up a chair next to you.

“I hope Benny isn’t giving you a hard time,” Will said.

“Actually, he’s putting Benny in his place,” Pope explained and winked at you.

You liked Will’s family very much. It wasn’t long until Frankie was laying out a huge stack of burgers on the table and you all dove in. Though of course you waited for Frankie to get his daughter Carmen sorted out first. But once she was settled out of harm's way, all bets were off at the buffet.

You spent most of the evening just listening to them all share stories and crack jokes. You poked fun at Will by telling them that he loves the live-action Beauty and the Beast movie, but you held back the part of how you saw him shed a tear near the end. That part was just for you. 

Frankie and Anna built a fire in the pit and as he set it alight, Frankie stepped back and said, “No cold-camping tonight, boys,” though he looked like he regretted his words. 

An icy chill fell over the group despite the heat from the new fire. You watched as the firelight danced across Will’s sad face. You reached out slowly and clasped Will’s hand in your own. 

Pope smiled when he saw you hold Will’s hand, and his smile set a chain reaction through the other guys who followed suit. Will turned to you when he smiled, his sad eyes full of love and gratitude. 

Benny was the only one who didn’t smile. Instead he rocked back in his chair, his arms tight across his chest. 

“You good, Benny?” Will asked, his voice soft but steady. 

Benny cleared his throat, “I’m going to refill the cooler.”

Benny stood and carried the cooler with him back into the house. 

Luckily Carmen breaks the silence by showing a picture she had been colouring to Pope. 

“Look!” she showed off her hard work by shoving it into Pope’s lap. 

Pope picked it up with a smile, “It’s beautiful!” he turned it around to show everyone else, “Isn’t this great?”

You and the others all clapped and Carmen beamed. When Pope tried to tuck the picture away in his coat, Carmen pulled it back with a, “Hey! You can’t keep that, I was just showing you!”

Everyone laughed and Benny returned and passed out the next round to everyone. 

You watched Will watch Benny and knew there was something going on you didn’t understand, and weren’t sure if you were supposed to say anything or not. 

“Where’s your bathroom?” you asked Maria and she gave you simple instructions so you excused yourself inside to collect your thoughts and empty your bladder. 

When you exited the bathroom, Will was leaning against the wall waiting for you. He pulled you into his embrace, one hand on your face, the other sneaking around to palm your ass. 

“I know you must have questions,” Will said. 

“We don’t have to talk about that now,” you said, “Today was about meeting your friends, and I gotta say, I really like them.”

You kissed Will quickly, but before you could pull away he deepened the kiss, pulling you close to him softly but purposefully. 

You heard the laughter from outside and broke the kiss with a sigh. 

“We should go back, I don’t want them to think I’m a bad influence,” you said, holding Will’s hand. 

“They already told me they like you,” Will said with his classic half smile. 

“Well good, because I -” you paused and took Will’s face in your hands, “I love you.”

Will smiled large, the lines around his eyes crinkled, “I love you too.”

Then you kissed him, softly at first, but building as he splayed his palm flat on your back and you pushed his back up against the wall, your hands on his waist. You felt his cock grow hard against your leg and you knew he could feel yours too. 

You jumped back when you heard the backdoor open, your face warm. Will kissed you soft on the cheek, his beard scratching against your own stubble, before he led you to the sound where you found Benny carrying Carmen by the ankles upside down. 

“This munchkin wants s’mores, so we’re on a supply run,” Benny explained as Carmen giggled hysterically. 

“You handle her, we’ll grab supplies,” you offered as you and Will followed Benny and the still laughing Carmen into the kitchen. 

As you gathered supplies Benny looked over to you, “I’ve got a fight next weekend out of town, you’re coming, right?”

Will stepped in before you could answer, “I hadn’t asked him yet.”

“Well I was inviting him, I like him better than you,” Benny said to Will. 

“I’ll be there!” you said, unable to contain your smile. 

Benny nodded and swung Carmen around as he made his way back outside. 

You turned to Will, “I guess that means I’m in?”

“For as long as you want to be here, want me, you’re welcome,” Will said sincerely. 

“Good, I love you, and I love your friends. I think I’ll stay,” you said, and you and Will carried the s'mores supplies outside and your heart felt more full tonight than it had ever felt before. 

[rwbyvein]

Firen Lhain:  Chapter 803:  Échecs:  Part III/III

Yang eagerly followed Ren and Nora down the stairs, Blake with a cheshire grin following them.

* * *

They walked into the library. "Oh, Remnant!" Yang exclaimed, "You're on, Sis!"

"Me and Blake are going to kick your ass!" Ruby replied.

* * *

Aurora arrived with a large carafe of coffee and a platter with several cups.

"So, who called the Little Bit?" Yang asked.

"Called her?" Weiss asked, "I don't believe I've ever called her."

"She simply comes out of the mists." Blake quiped.

"With coffee." Ren said, looked Aurora in the eyes, and nodded.

"If you are going to bring us coffee?" Ruby asked, "Could you?.."

"Cookies are already in the oven." Aurora said with a smile.

"Man, what did we do to deserve her?" Yang asked, causing Aurora to blush, though hard to see through her treefrog colouration.

Weiss moved over to sit on Jaune's lap.

"Hey!" Ruby exclaimed, and Weiss simply stuck out her tongue.

"Did she just do that?!" Yang asked.

"Perhaps my wives are rubbing off on me?" Weiss asked.

* * *

Jaune moved a single piece and then ended his turn. "Is that it?" Weiss asked.

"The first few turns are about building your army." Jaune replied. "You don't want to get too spread out?"

"What happens?" Weiss asked.

"Well, for one, Grimm can attack. And units too far away from the kingdom risk running out of supplies. It lowers your morale."

"I would say it would." Weiss quipped.

"Your morale is how strong your units are." Blake said, while Ruby and Yang were glaring at each other.

"This is why," Jaune added, "the game often takes hours."

"Hours?" Weiss asked, "But, our game..."

Jaune kissed her on the cheek. "You didn't know what you were doing, and let Yang lure you into a trap."

"With her Nevermore." Weiss stated. "Wait, does that mean you can control Grimm?"

"Ehn." Jaune stated.

"Since you got Ladykiller," Yang stated, "you probably won't be so easy this time, I guess I can be honest. The Grimm cards are traps."

"Forced encounters." Ren stated.

"And they all have a chance of backfiring." Yang continued.

"I believe," Ren voiced and paused for a moment, "it represents luring your enemy into a group of Grimm."

"I suppose that makes sense." Weiss stated, "Well, what about Ruby and Blake?"

"Blake wasn't paying attention." Jaune said, "And Yang is too used to fighting Ruby, so she knew how to counter her."

"Is that what happened?!" Ruby asked Yang.

"Shakin' in your little booties, Sis?" Yang asked.

Ruby put her right boot up on the table. "Suck it."

"Only if you win." Yang shouted.

"Seriously?" Weiss asked.

"Okay?" Yang replied, "Maybe I'll lick it, how about that."

"You're on, right Blake?" Ruby asked.

"What do you plan to lick in return?" she asked.

"Hm?" Ruby asked her, and then looked at Yang,

"If I win, you can do what you want with my hair."

Ruby and Yang reached across and shook.

* * *

Emerald paced across the common room in the turret. "If you can't even go inside, how can you possibly get him to trust you?"

"By sucking his cock?" Mercury asked, causing Emerald to scoff.

"You would suggest that."

"I'm actually hoping she doesn't." Mercury added.

"Well, for one, he's not neutral, he actively doesn't trust me." Cinder stated, "For two, he already has plenty of girls on his list."

"None of them can hold a candle to you." Emerald soulfully said to Cinder. Cinder in reply reached out to craddle her face.

"Unfortunatlely, he doesn't agree with you."

"But." Emerald tried to say.

"This is his house, literally." Cinder said. "While we're not allowed into the house, we are allowed?.."

"What?" Mercury asked, "In that mess they call a garden?"

"Bingo." Cinder delightfully stated. "He might not trust me, but he does believe me, and that's a start."

Mercury glared at Emerald, "Which means that any of your bullshit and we lose everything we've gained."

"My bullshit?" Emerald asked.

"Petty theft," Cinder stated, "and your Semblance."

"But?.." a wounded Emerald asked her.

"But, my dear, they are the opposite of trust."

"But... before?.." Emerald asked.

"I recruited you because of your useful abilities." Cinder simply stated, "I'm keeping you because... you both are dear to me."

* * *

Raven walked into the basement to see Qrow and Taiyang.

"Hey, Rae?," Qrow asked her, "did you talk to the kids?"

"Why would I do that?" Raven asked.

"Just admit you're a big softy," Taiyang stated, "and didn't want to interupt their game."

Raven huffed as she walked over. She nervously leaned down to kiss Taiyang on the lips, before looking over at the cell. "Just so you know, I'm the Spring Maiden. If you try to break out of here, you'll have two Maidens to face off against."

Neo used her hand to mimic annoying chatter, causing Raven to glare at her, and the boys to start giggling.

Qrow and Taiyang stood up. "See you, Rae." Qrow stated. Taiyang dipped her to give her a passionate kiss, and the two walked off. Raven struggled to regain her semblance of authority. She looked at Neo, whom was smirking at her widely.

"Don't you have anything better to do?" Raven asked, and Neo looked about her cell. She then looked back at Raven and shrugged.

* * *

Cinder, Emerald, and Mercury were standing in the garden. "It's been all day!" Emerald exclaimed, "Where are they?!"

"We are losing the light." Mercury stated.

"We'll have to try again tomorrow." Cinder voiced.

* * *

Weiss let out a disappointed sigh. "Sorry." Jaune stated, "This is my first time ever playing as Vale, so I honestly don't know what I'm doing."

Weiss gave him a peck on he cheek. "You certainly know far more than I do."

Ruby and Yang aggressively glared at each other while Blake moved pieces on the board. Yang looked back at the board. "Wait, what?"

"You're going down, Sis." Ruby said to her, "That's what."

"I do believe it's our turn." Ren stated.

* * *

Aurora and Taiyang placed blankets on the kids whom had all passed out on the table.

"Shouldn't you be getting to sleep, too?" Taiyang asked her.

"I am my mistress' personal assistant." Aurora replied, "It's my job to assist her with everything she does."

"Everything?" Taiyang asked.

"Everything." Aurora nodded.

"Even?.." Taiyang tried to ask.

"If she asked me to, yes." Aurora replied.

* * *

Yang started to rouse, slowly pulling herself up from the table, looking around. Ruby and Blake were cuddled together over the table. Ren and Nora were cuddled together over the table. Jaune was somehow laying on the table, sleeping, but still holding himself from crushing Weiss. How the hell could she be so elegant in such a strange position?

She looked around the room and saw someone sleeping on a couch. It was Aurora, who seemed to know when Yang had awoken and was looking her in her eyes. Yang tiredly waved at her. She slowly stumbled to her feet. She groped around, managing to pull the blanket over her shoulders and shuffled over to the couches. She slumped down onto one of them. Breathing for a moment as her thoughts returned to her. "Okay," Yang whispered, "I know you're like really into this assistant thing, but you don't need to be like, sleeping on the couch here if we need you."

"I'm more comfortable than you guys are." Aurora whispered in reply. "Besides, I started with nothing. Everything I made that wasn't putting food in my belly was developing the skills I would need to join the corporate elite. It didn't matter how good my skills were on paper, though."

"Why not?" Yang groaned.

"The moment they saw my face." Aurora stated. "I wasn't lucky like Blake, who could hide her Faunus nature with a bow, or like my mistress, who had the resources of one of the most powerful families on Remnant. Whenever they saw my face, they knew exactly who I was. I got good at seeing through the token effort they went to pretend like it was an interview. I actually thought that my mistress was one of them."

"But?.." Yang asked.

"Until I held the contract in my hands." Aurora stated, "I still didn't believe it. It was a pretty standard, ironclad, no wiggle room contract, except for one thing."

"Hm?" Yang asked, huddled under her blanket.

"Termination clause. On a one year contract, being paid several years salary upon termination is... actually understandable for an executive... except..."

"Except?" Yang asked.

"My face." Aurora simply stated.

"They would never give it to a Faunus?" Yang asked, and Aurora subtely nodded before sitting up. She slipped from the couch, adjusted her clothing, and walked over to Yang.

"Relax your weary head." Aurora stated, and guided Yang's head to a pillow she did not know was there. Aurora adjusted Yang's blanket, adjusted her beautiful hair. "Sleep tight."

"Mmm." Yang positively moaned.

* * *

Yang woke up with Blake laying on her. Blake looked up in her eyes and smiled, making no movement to get up. Yang looked over to see Aurora's couch empty, except for a folded blanket. She found Ren and Nora together, along with Ruby and Weiss sleeping on Jaune's massive chest.

"Does anyone remember?.." Yang tried to ask,

"Little Bit left you a note." Blake stated, and passed her the note.

Yang read the note, 'It's your turn, Yang. Breakfast will be ready by 0700.'

"Oh, shit, the game's still on." Yang said, and sat up.

[anxiouslyfred]

Moss Graffiti

Summary: Virgil was convinced his soulmate worked in nuclear power from the poem he got describing them. He’s about to learn how wrong that is, and how weirdly some corporations view graffiti.

/\/\

Virgil's soulmate had to do something in nuclear power. He was certain of it. Why else would his poem include the line 'Green pollution close to hand'?

Really he'd taken decades to reach that conclusion, trying to decide what it could mean. Pollution usually wasn't anything green at all, but from those Simpsons opening credits, to the glow shows always used for nuclear radiation, that had to be what was intended. Unless there was something else being done that corporations would try to claim as pollution, but that just opened too many trails for his thoughts to follow.

“Uneven floors present a trip hazard and either need indicating or fixing. That's the most important issue, I've found, shall we continue through the rest?” Virgil shook the momentary thoughts of his soulmate from his head, focusing back on the Health & Safety inspection he was doing.

The offices were just waiting for an accident to happen in a lot of places, and if he had to yell to actually get the manager to come over instead of the receptionist, he would be. There's no point booking him to conduct the inspection if they just wanted to ignore the issues raised in his report.

“Mr Furniss has requested you confirm if the pollution on the outer walls will need a specialist to remove.” The receptionist, Miss Mauby, asked, noting down his comments.

“I haven't noticed any pollution. Do you mind showing me the section he's referring to?” Virgil raised an eyebrow. There had been some graffiti on one of the walls near the entrance, but it hadn't looked like anything he'd need to take note of.

The wall he was led to pretty much guaranteed he would be storming back into the manager's office to give his report. Wasting his time demanding answers that a fool could tell was simply moss was absurd, despite the design and words showing it was all deliberately placed. Virgil already agreed that the company had a lot of issues it needed to be addressing, especially regarding the waste products being incorrectly disposed of at the factory site.

Turning to Miss Mauby he nodded, “I believe it would be best for me to give my initial review to Mr Furniss directly, and I'll send the report over in a matter of days.” He didn't wait for a reply, already returning to the building and the office that was indicated to belong to the site manager.

By the time Virgil was leaving the site, he'd begun to calm down and find it amusing. The manager of the place really did think that graffiti was pollution and not just unauthorised artwork. Perhaps they needed some language lessons to clear up the definition and impact of using the wrong terms. Science classes could help more though.

When he glanced back towards the moss words, he had to call over, “Better get away from there. I think Mr Furniss mentioned getting cameras set up to monitor their walls.”

“I'll find some other wall to protest on then. He can't monitor them all and ignores any emails or government mandates to follow the laws for disposal of contaminated waste.” The person called back, voice shrill and uncaring.

Virgil wandered closer, a little curious to know more. “How did you even manage it anyway? I didn't think you could control where or how moss grows.”

“I made moss paint and spray with water each afternoon. For this lot at least. I've got twenty other sites I do this too and commissions to take for peoples gardens occasionally.” Virgil began to worry he'd asked the wrong thing with the lack of energy compared to the person's original response before they jumped to face him, “I'm making nature fight back for itself when it can't speak. The moss, lichens and plants shall rise to destroy humanity with my aid!”

“Okay, cool, erm good luck with that. I'll leave you to it then.” Virgil backed away at the yell, startled and very concerned that if someone in the office came out to see him talking with the moss graffiti guy he could lose payment for his services.

It was only once he got home that Virgil thought whoever it was looking after that moss seemed to fill 3 of the 4 lines in his soul poem, especially with that companies boss claiming graffiti was pollution.

He checked while swapping his jacket for a hoodie and the idea only grew at the familiar lines:

Uncontrolled by any rule,

Dangerous Attitude, surface cool.

Green pollution close to hand.

Trust fleeting as the sand.

Virgil had gotten the poem as a tattoo as soon as he was old enough to. He didn't want anybody finding out what his poem was and the easiest way to ensure that was to keep the only record of it literally on him.

Perhaps they'd encounter each other again in the city. Virgil did have other gigs coming up for offices of corporations known to be major polluters.

/Over to the Graffiti Artist\

Remus had been curious about the guy who'd come over asking about his graffiti, but he got people running away from him. It happened often enough pretty much anytime he tried to make friends.

He pushed the curiosity out of his mind though, focusing on that morning's project. He was still cultivating the moss on the edge of an animal testing lab for a soaps company and needed to make sure he was using the right mosses so the creature yelling at the company was recognisable.

“Get Away from there! I'll call the police on you for doing-” The angry yelling cut off when the woman got close enough.

Remus smirked, not turning around, but well aware it looked like he was just painting water onto the wall with how diluted he'd made the moss-paint today. He'd expected someone to try and stop him and wasn't going to give away what he was doing, including the fact these were rare mosses that if it got out the company had removed would enrage some environmentalist charities.

“Well isn't this fun. Do you often greet contractors by yelling at someone painting the walls with water, or am I just special?” The curious guy from yesterday was back, and apparently ignoring Remus in favour of greeting the woman. It was an interesting way to try and stick up for him though.

None of the apologies she was now stuttering out got directed to him either, and Remus finally realised this was one of the managers of the building and the guy had to be some sort of contractor. Not that it mattered to him of course, guy got scared off by a tiny bit of excitement.

He was humming while working on an established moss garden that evening when the guy walked passed again, and seriously Remus was beginning to think some cosmic force wanted them to talk.

“How'd you get the different colours?” The guy actually stopped to ask, glancing over the patterns. Dull, boring spirals. Remus had a far more interesting moss garden on the outer walls of his apartment.

“Different mosses.” He replied, turning to get more water for his spray bottle. It wasn't necessary, but he didn't feel like watching someone try to escape him currently.

The guy stayed waiting there, long enough Remus couldn't avoid returning to his work. “I'm Virgil by the way. He/Him. Sorry about that bitch this morning. She really needs to focus more on adequate safety railings and less on how the building looks. Aesthetic is not worth health hazards!” He sort of ranted, definitely trying to make conversation.

“I'm Remus and you're already scared of me, so I don't think you want to hear my actual views. Bugger off to screw in a H&S approved fallout bunker or something.” Remus interrupted before he could say anything else.

“No need to be a jerk, and sorry I'm not interested in losing a paycheck because the boss of a building is an asshole. Yelling and getting attention when I've just finished a place that specifically tried to call your work a biohazard could easily have the company finding some way out of paying for aiding a vandal or whatever.” Virgil snapped back, glaring. “I just wanted to know more because your work looks awesome, but fine, I'll leave asking more for some other day.”

Remus scoffed, throwing his spray bottle to one side and turning, “Yeah, when you decide I'm invisible again because I'm near one of those building's that's contracting you to yell at them. Fantastic chance to ask questions when you won't even glance my way.”

His words must have trigger some confusing thought process for Virgil as his right hand jumped to covering his left forearm, almost brushing over it in an odd pattern. He watched for a moment before turning back to checking the outlines were still clear.

“I can't put my chances of making the rent at stake, but fine, next time I see you I'll find time to stop and at least say hi. I'm going to get to know you, Remus. You can trust me on that, whether you believe it or not.” The words were threatening, and Remus wanted to come up with some actual threats Virgil could have used, but still didn't want to watch him run away.

“Only the naïve trust people instantly. Or the people wanting to use you and twist you into a different shape. I'm neither of those and the only time someone else controls how I twist is when they're bending me over.” He dismissed the promise and started humming again, pretending to focus on his work.

If they spoke for much longer of course he'd say something to have this brittle connection thoroughly sever.

That night Remus was still wondering about Virgil. How concerned he sounded over losing pay, and some vague terrible happening that could follow it.

There was definitely something of his soulmate poem in how the man was speaking and acting, but it just felt like another thing for Remus to hope for and end up destroying.

He had to listen to that old song again, if only to confirm it couldn't be Virgil at all:

Lashing out just to be heard

Worry infusing every word.

Cautious but convinceable,

Dreams their friends invincible.

/Days passing by\

The warning Virgil had given on the first time they encountered each other had been proven right. That company had put up cameras over the footpaths on the buildings, with only a few sections left clear of surveillance.

Remus had refreshed his free-running skills enough to get up onto one of the ledges. He wasn't expecting to get yelled at to get down and that it wasn't safe while checking if there was another layer of moss-paint needed or not.

“Virgil, you're really going to attract attention if you don't quiet down.” Remus sing-songed, leaning to look down from the ledge he was stood on, and grinning at the glare he was being given.

He wasn't expecting Virgil to walk a few steps back before launching himself up the wall. “And you're going to do yourself a freaking injury. Is constantly climbing up here really necessary for you to get the message across?”

“Yes, they're going to keep having the message painted until the listen and actually sort out the waste disposal of the factory.” Remus nodded. Virgil had been speaking to him, and actually seeking out the places Remus would turn up ever since threatening to get to know him. “Besides, a suicide on the property with this message growing afterwards would definitely make the news, get public interest sparked over everything they're doing wrong. Sounds like the perfect storm for them to face.”

“Except the part where you die. Not allowed. You act like you're invincible and I wish to whoever's listening you were.” Virgil snapped, and snatched the brush from Remus's hands for some reason. “Come on, tell me where I'm painting this one, and I'll help. Sooner you get this done, the sooner I can get you safely down from here!”

Remus blinked at the change, wondering whether this was what 'cautious but convinceable' meant before shaking it off. “That's for the darker bits. Currently just look like some discolouring. I'll do the pale bits since the difference for those can't be made out yet. Why would you want me to be invincible anyways? Most people would be glad to see something break me, even if they wouldn't wish me dead. A sever injury, maybe causing paralysis, and they'd all sigh knowing where I am and thinking they could control how much trouble I cause.”

“Sounds like you know a ton of jerks then. You're my Friend Remus. Not many people can say that and I'm not going to let you jeopardise my friend's life all to make a point against horrible business practices.” Virgil lectured, already following the lines, although his shoulders were so tense Remus wondered how his movements with the brush could be so fluid.

In more interesting news that literally sounded like the 2 lines Remus had mentally been insisting couldn't relate to Virgil had fallen into place and suddenly fitted him perfectly. He was singing the soul poem without thinking it, performing a short dance when he realised Virgil was staring.

“So are you writing poems about me now or is that, you know?” Virgil muttered a few moments after he finished singing.

“My soul Poem!” Remus squealed and the only thing that stopped him bouncing was Virgil's eyes quickly falling to his feet. The edge was close behind him and he wasn't going to fall after deciding that Virgil was his soulmate. “Seems to be perfect for you, right?!”

Virgil just nodded, shoving up the sleeve of his jacket and holding the arm out to Remus. “Get away from the edge, read this and have a laugh at what the manager of this place called your art.”

The tattoo was brilliant, with letters that looked like they were bleeding, and thorns twisting together to frame it. Realising the poem actually did describe him only made it better.

“So we are simply meant to be.” Remus grinned.

At least he knew this health and safety inspector wasn't completely against breaking the rules occasionally, at least if it meant they could keep each other safe instead.

[bookandcranny]

Beatrice - Chapter Four

“Doc-- Petra,” she greeted with a polite nod. She wasn’t really in the mood for chatting, but she tried to relax her expression into something resembling friendly nonetheless. It wasn’t her fault she was so on edge.

“Where have you been?” the professor asked. “I came looking for you but everyone I asked said you were out sick.”

“I was, but I’m better now.”

Again and again she replayed the events of that day in her mind. At night she lay on her side staring at the lowered blinds until frustration or exhaustion or both forced her to roll over and at least try to sleep. She was still struggling to make sense of all that Dr Rappaccini had told her, unsure how much of it she should even take to be true considering how obviously unstable the old man turned out to be.

In the end she decided it didn’t matter. Whether Beatrice was some test-tube baby in the shape of a second-coming, whether she was the daughter of a mad doctor straight out of a 1970s B-movie, first and foremost she was Beatrice. She was still the girl Gianna had fallen for. There had to be some way to reach her, to free her from her father’s control.

In the meantime however, between bouts of mourning her relationship that wasn’t and fanatically drafting and scrapping plans to whisk her away from her troubled life, there was work. Now feeling recovered from whatever had been ailing her, Gianna couldn’t justify taking off any more days, not even for her own heartbreak. She allowed herself the weekend to sulk and then woke up early the next morning prepared to throw herself back into her work.

Despite her best intentions however, the encounter with Beatrice’s father still weighed heavy on her mind. She tried to let work serve as a distraction, but then out of nowhere she would look down and remember the weight and feel of a hand twined with her own, or find herself touching the back of her fingertips to her lips, light as the flutter of a butterfly’s wings, and wondering what might have happened if she’d had the courage to kiss her before her father had walked in.

The strange dreams had begun again as well. She wasn’t exactly surprised. All through the night her head was filled with visions of a feminine figure draped in green, then red as the blissful scene became dirty and blood-soaked before her eyes. Gianna would wake up gasping, grasping for someone who wasn’t there and aching down to her marrow with the absence.

Shaking herself, Gianna stepped out of the arts building and gave herself a moment to linger in the breezeway, taking in fresh air that never seemed quite fresh enough anymore. Once again she was fighting a losing battle with her impulse to brood, when a familiar voice called out to her.

“Gianna, good heavens,” Dr Bagnol exclaimed as she hurried across the courtyard. 

She was acting like they hadn’t spoken in years, Gianna thought with some annoyance, when she knew it had only been… how long? A few weeks? A month? Time has been moving so weirdly lately.

“Doc-- Petra,” she greeted with a polite nod. She wasn’t really in the mood for chatting, but she tried to relax her expression into something resembling friendly nonetheless. It wasn’t her fault she was so on edge.

“Where have you been?” the professor asked. “I came looking for you but everyone I asked said you were out sick.”

“I was, but I’m better now.”

“I asked after you for days, Gianna.”

For some reason, the old woman’s concern grated on her.

“Yep. I was out for a few days, but I’m better now. Was there something you needed?”

Surprised hurt flashed in her eyes for less than a second. “I’d remembered something I wanted to ask you about. It had to do with that thing we talked about, about Dr Rappaccini. After you left I got to thinking, reminiscing on those days when we worked together. I decided to dig up some of my old research and journals and such from around that time and I realized there were some… loose ends I never followed up on the way I should have.”

Gianna bit her lip. This was the very last subject she wanted to talk about. “I don’t know how I could help. The guy’s just my neighbor, you know.”

Petra’s eyes raked over her face and her expression grew stern. “Ah. So you did speak to him after all, didn’t you?”

“We met, briefly,” she confessed with a grimace.

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I haven’t been avoiding you. I was out sick.”

She hummed her disbelief. “Well you look well enough now. Very well in fact. Why, you’re glowing, Gianna. And,” She paused and tilted her head to the side. “What’s that smell?”

Gianna felt a prickle of cold sweat on the back of her neck. It was true; that tea must have packed a bigger punch than she thought because, in addition to waking up feeling fully restored the next morning, her hair had also gained a vibrant shine and her skin was softer and clearer than it had been since she was a young child. She half wondered why the Rappaccinis were sitting on a recipe like that when every celebrity influencer would probably trade their left tit for the brew. But then again she supposed it wasn’t as thought Dr Rappaccini needed the money. As for the smell though, she hadn’t noticed.

“Acetone? Epoxy resin maybe?” She nodded toward the building she’d come out of. “Actually, I should probably get back in there.”

The professor grabbed her wrist. “Has he taken you into his garden?”

“Hey, that hurts.”

Her grip tightened. Petra was surprisingly strong for her age. “Gianna.”

“I barely spoke to him!” she insisted. “I only went over there once, to see Beatrice.”

“Beatrice? You mean, the girl is still alive?”

Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean by that? Of course she’s alive. She’s… she’s wonderful. And she’s not like her father at all. She’s smart and sensitive and loving--”

“Gianna, listen to me,” Dr Bagnol interrupted. “Dr Rappaccini does not have any children. He has experiments. However dangerous the doctor himself is-- and he is-- whatever else is living with him in that place is far worse. This girl… you can’t trust her. You can’t trust anything she tells you.”

Gianna tore herself away from the professor, disgusted, and took several steps back. “Don’t you say that about her. Beatrice is-- I’m in love with her, don’t you understand that? Doesn’t anyone understand that? I don’t care what you think she is, I know Beatrice.”

Petra called out in one final attempt to reach her, but she was already gone. 

It revolted her to turn her back so coldly on someone she’d considered to be a friend, but she couldn’t stand to listen to those lies any longer. Whatever animosity lay between Petra and the old doctor, his daughter did not deserve her spite. And the way she spoke about Beatrice was just as bad as the man himself! They acted as though she weren’t even human.

But I’m not really any better, thought Gianna. Walking home alone that night there was nothing left to keep her from these idle guilty thoughts. She might feign righteousness, but when Beatrice had gone all silent and subservient like that, she’d been unable to get past her own discomfort and defend her. Between her bizarre behavior and her insane father’s outrageous claims, it had just been way too much. 

So she had left her there, abandoned.

I spent all that time building her up in my head, thinking of her like she was some perfect heaven-sent angel, and ditched the second the reality became too complicated for me. That can’t be how I act with someone I care about. That can’t be how we leave things.

Gianna charged into her apartment and wrenched open the blinds. She had braced herself for the worst but when she looked down on the terrace, there was Beatrice, watering her plants like nothing had happened. 

“Beatrice!”

The woman looked up, mouth hanging open, and for a moment Gianna thought she looked hopeful. Then again, it might’ve been wishful thinking on her part. As she descended to the lower platform Beatrice pursed her lips together and looked away, focusing intently on her work.

“I-I’m not supposed to talk to you.”

Gianna glanced over at the sliding door half-hidden in greenery. “Is he listening?”

She hesitated a moment then shook her head. “I don’t think so. He doesn’t come out here very much on his own. There are cameras hidden in a couple of the planters-- that’s how he knew I was meeting with you, I think-- but they don’t pick up sound. As long as I keep working like normal I don’t think he’ll bother to check up on me.”

Gianna frowned but bit her tongue. “Well, good, I guess.” 

An uncertain silence fell between them.

“I sort of thought… I was afraid I wouldn’t get to see you again,” she admitted.

Beatrice kept watering, watching drops of water roll off the waxy bell of a foxglove.

“Father can punish me all he wants but he can’t keep me away from my garden. Someone has to take care of it and he doesn’t have the strength anymore.”

This time Gianna couldn’t control herself. She scowled. “About that, Bea. You’re an adult. He can’t treat you like this. It’s sick, you understand that, right? Spying on you, ordering you around, talking about you like you’re his property. That’s not normal.”

“I know that,” she said. “But there’s nothing I can do.”

“Of course there is! You can leave!”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“I mean, if it’s a matter of money or needing a place to stay…”

“You don’t get it. I’ve never even…” She trailed off, closing her eyes. She took in a deep, quavering breath. “He’s my father, Gianna. He’s all I have.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way. I--”

“You don’t understand!” she repeated. The watering can clattered to the ground. “This is all my fault. I was stupid to think I could have this. Look, take a look at this plant.” 

She pointed to one of the many flowering shrubs. Gianna squinted at the merry looking pink blooms.

“Um, Latua Pub-- Pubiflora, right?”

“You remembered.” She smiled despite herself, giving the specimen an affectionate touch. “It’s common name translates to something like ‘sorcerer’s tree’. Most people are more familiar with its cousin, the deadly nightshade, although ironically she’s probably the less poisonous of the two. Now look at this one.”

Gianna looked and saw blood red blossoms in a sort of fan shape. “I don’t think I know that one.”

“That’s because, officially, it doesn’t exist. It’s a hybrid species of my father’s own making, the only one of its kind. It can’t survive in the wild. It needs to be pollinated by hand because the smell of the nectar it secretes kills any insects before they can so much as touch it.” She knelt and lowered her face into the flowers’ embrace, breathing deeply. “She’s just one of my father’s many projects. And me too, I’m the same way. I’m a hybrid, a splice, a hothouse orchid; designed to be pretty from a distance but never touched. I can’t survive outside of the walls of my father’s world.”

“What do you think will happen if you leave?”

She wrapped her arms around herself. “I don’t know. Something terrible.”

Gianna leaned heavily on the railing. “Beatrice… I know you’re scared, but you can’t let him keep brainwashing you for the rest of your life. You’re not a flower. You don’t stay rooted wherever you’re planted. Don’t you want more than this?”

“You know I do,” she sighed.

“Then run away with me!” she blurted out. “We can leave all this bullshit with your dad behind. We’ll get out of the city, go somewhere where you can stretch your legs, where you can feel the earth beneath your feet, someplace beautiful and green. We can figure out the details later, just-- the way he talked to you, the way you looked. I never want to see you look like that again. It was like you weren’t even really there.

“You told me before that you didn’t want to lose me. Well I don’t want to lose you either. I care about you, Beatrice.” She felt her eyes grow wet. “I care about you so much. And I wasn’t strong enough to say so before. I wasn’t strong enough to help you. That’s why I was afraid to face you. I should’ve done something, I should’ve seen what was happening sooner.”

“No, Gianna,” Beatrice shuddered out. “It wasn’t your fault. I knew the risk when I went against my father and I took it anyway. I’ve never wanted anything as badly as I wanted to be able to touch you. I still do.” She balled her fists. “I’d take that risk again a thousand times. I will. I’ll go with you.”

-----

Day by day their plan began to coalesce. Gianna did all the research, staying up late into the night scrolling through articles and the firsthand accounts of abuse escapees, mapping routes and making plans, but it could still be argued Beatrice had the harder job of the two. 

While they could see one another under the guise of her daily gardening, Dr Rappaccini had been keeping a sharper eye on his daughter than ever. The man hardly went outside as it was so finding times to meet and share their findings without prying eyes was tricky, and trying to arrange the time and date of their ultimate escape that much more so.

Then Gianna had an idea. Although the other caretakers came and went in the Rappaccini home, Beatrice remained the most consistently responsible for her father’s care, and prepared many of his meals. With her expertise on medicinal plants, it would be a simple thing to mix the right combination of herbs into his food and put him out of their way. 

At first Gianna was afraid she was asking too much of her, that requesting she drug her own father was going too far, but when she cautiously proposed it as an option, Beatrice lit up.

“That’s perfect! I’ll just give him something to make him sleep for a while. I used to do the same thing with my babysitters when I was a kid so I could stay up late.”

“And there’s no chance that you might, you know, give him the wrong dosage or something?”

“It’s harmless,” said Beatrice. “I’ve known these plants my whole life, I know exactly what to do.”

In spite of all their scheming, when the day finally came, Gianna felt as much dread as she did excitement. Everything had seemed so certain, so flawless in that initial flurry of adrenalin and heady heartsick longing. Only when she was staring down the suitcase laid open on her bed did the enormity of what she was about to do strike her full-force. 

It felt like just yesterday she’d been unpacking this same bag, getting ready to begin her new life in the city. But she had made a promise to Beatrice and she didn’t intend to go back on her word now. She needed for her to be safe, for her to be free. The rest, she figured, they could work out along the way.

Bag packed with some time left to kill, Gianna made a quick detour to the market a block over, where a regular vendor could be found selling flowers from a stall outside. She bought a bouquet in rich romantic hues which she hoped would make her friend smile even when she was forced to part with her own beloved garden. She knew she loved that terrace more than anything. She would probably stay there all day and night if she could, sleeping on a bed of earth with leaves for a pillow. Hopefully they wouldn’t have to be parted for too long. 

Gianna was feeling more lighthearted by the time she arrived at the apartment. 6pm on the dot, giving Beatrice enough time to serve the old man his dinner and let the drug take effect. She punched in the passcode, but in place of a chime and cheery green light she was met with a low, admonishing tone. Someone must have changed the code. Perhaps Rappaccini himself had had a word with the super or whoever after their attempted date. No problem, Beatrice could just buzz her in.

“Hey, it’s me,” she said into the receiver. 

“Gianna?” The break in her voice was lost under the buzz of feedback and Gianna was too silly with love to notice.

“Yup! I’m downstairs. Are you all packed?”

“Gianna… I’m sorry.”

“What’s wrong? Talk to me.” It didn’t surprise her that she might be having second thoughts now that the moment was at hand, but she was confident that whatever her hesitation, they could work through it.

There was a pause, then a muffled voice in the background, a shuffle of motion. 

“This was a bad idea,” Beatrice said in a near whisper. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The intercom cut off. Growing panicked, Gianna yanked furtively on the door but the lock held firm. 

“Shit. Shit!” She dropped her bag. She dropped the bouquet. She didn’t stay for long enough to see it wither and die.

--

next chapter

[imjeralee]

Comfort in Despair: Chapter 16 - Leon with Flowers

Leon x F!Reader

Disclaimer: Do not own Pokemon

Summary:

Galar is rich in folklore and tales of the supernatural.

As a Pokemon Researcher who specialises in ghost types, this is a great opportunity for you to investigate and learn more about the paranormal.

Along the way, you meet Leon (in the most awkward way possible) who becomes embroiled in your adventures.

^ Basically this story is about ghosts :/

Rating: General/Teen

@marydragneell​ - here is the latest update

@crikeygatormate, @alisakagi​ - apologies for the late update

Leon with Flowers

…

…

["We're just two lost souls Swimming in a fish bowl Year after year."

- Wish You Were Here, Pink Floyd]

…

…

Leon arrives outside the Wild Area Pokemon Nursery and pushes open the door. It jingles with a light tune upon his arrival and he sees a lone nursery worker behind the counter. It's Raihan's girlfriend and her Goomy and Dreepy huddle together on one of the sofas, watching TV whilst she works, juggling several large canisters of baby pokemon food and moomoo milk in hands.

“Hi Leon,” she greets him politely as soon she spots him, despite the hectic atmosphere. Her voice is very soft on the ears.

“Hi,” he replies, and Goomy and Dreepy gurgle and chirp at him happily; Goomy uses one of its horn to press down on a random button on the remote control beside them, changing the channel from a drama to a cartoon show.

Throwing a quick glance to the clock on the wall, she says, “You’re early.”

“Ah, yeah, I managed to get everything done…I can come back if you’re not ready.”

“Not at all, give me a minute.”

“Sure.”

“Please have a seat,” she gestures to an empty couch and so he plops himself down.

Raihan’s girlfriend finishes filling up the shelves on the wall with the bottles and the milk before she ducks behind the counter and he hears more glass containers rattling within and she stacks two or three more on the shelf before she says, “Would you like some tea?”

“No, thank you.”

"Okay."

Leon casually glances around the small waiting room until he casts a glimpse at her; Raihan’s girlfriend is a pokemon breeder and she’s the complete opposite of the dragon tamer: calm, quiet and certainly not flamboyant in any manner. Apparently she’s good at handling him and there are rumours flying around that he is madly in love with her. Despite her meek outward appearance, looks can be deceiving because Raihan’s girlfriend is also an EV trainer with an arsenal of high-levelled, competitive pokemon.

And he’s asked her for help.

She dries her hand on a Bellossom tea towel and finally heads to the gate, opening it. “Thanks for waiting! Well, come on in. Sorry about the mess.”

“No problem,” Leon gets up from his seat - looks like she trusts Goomy and Dreepy to be left on their own - and he closes the gate behind him, follows her inside the interior and often unseen part of the nursery.

She leads him towards the baby pokemon room; it's covered with pastel yellow wallpaper dotted with little stars and moons and there are plenty of baby mobiles hanging from the ceiling, soft play toys, alphabet play cubes and various squeaky toys and Leon is greeted with the sight of Cleffas, Pichus, Smoochums, Magbys and Bonslys running rampant around the available space and generally causing mischief. She runs inside at once, pulling at a Mime Jr that’s about to leap off a high shelf before she separates two Munchlaxes who are squabbling over a bowl of berries.

“So sorry,” she exclaims as Leon glances around, unsure where to really look due to the chaos, “I swear they can be very well-behaved. So…what do you think?”

Leon chuckles and folds his arms. “Of course, but…” as the babies bawl and drool and roll around the playmats, he puts a hand under his chin to ponder, “...Something’s not quite right. I’m not saying she won’t like a baby pokemon but…it’s not really her.”

Her shoulders droop. “Oh, r-really? Well…maybe not a baby pokemon then?” Copying his action, an Igglybuff taps at her calf as she rubs at her chin. She glances down and it points to a bottle it cannot reach on the table. She picks it up and hands it to it and Igglybuff rolls away, and she says, “What about an abandoned pokemon?”

Leon raises a brow. “There are abandoned pokemon here?”

She nods sadly; a Riolu tugs on her leg next, wanting to be held, “Unfortunately, yes, the number of pokemon dropped off at the nursery and subsequently being abandoned has risen," she says glumly as she picks the fighting pokemon up and pats him on the head.

“Where are they? Can you show me?”

“Of course,” she puts down Riolu, goading him to play with the others and all the baby pokemon look at her expectantly, “You guys be on your best behaviour, okay?”

There’s a response of chirping, squeaking, high-pitched trilling and a few nods of the head. She looks at them worriedly but has no choice but to leave the room for now. Regardless, the baby pokemon don’t seem to be intent on wreaking too much havoc.

She leads Leon out of the nursing room and further along the corridor, stopping at a random door and opening it; she holds the door open for him and his eyes grow wide when he sees a dozen or so pokemon littered around the room, resting in baskets or perches. However, there is something terribly gloomy about this room and he realises the dullness is emanating from the Pokemon within.

An Eevee in the corner is tightly curled up against the wall but looks up when they enter and its large eyes meets Leon’s. Its ears are flat against its head and its fur is dull and matted. It's clutching a squidgy berry toy to itself.

It’s….miserable.

Raihan’s girlfriend sighs under her breath, “We initially put them together with the other pokemon, but they seem to be doing better with other abandoned pokemon so…my boss put them altogether in one room. Some pokemon have actually broken out and run away…these are the ones that are still waiting for their owner.”

Leon glances around, inspecting the remaining pokemon; a Corvisquire with rough-looking feathers sits on the perch with its head under its wing. A Skwovet hides underneath its thick tail, its wet eyes looking up at the duo. A Minccino is crying in another corner; she runs to it immediately and scoops it up in her arms.

“…This isn’t new, but the numbers are growing rapidly,” she replies as she holds the small pokemon tightly to her chest. It responds to her embrace, closing its eyes.

“What’s wrong with Eevee?”

“We diagnosed it with a permanent leg injury. It can no longer battle.”

Leon bites down on his lip; the sight of abandoned or injured pokemon makes his heart clench with grief. “Arceus, I want to take them all.”

“You can’t. Not yet. They’ve actually not passed the period yet,” Raihan’s girlfriend replies, “My boss set a month, at least. If their owners don’t return, the pokemon are officially under our care."

Leon emits a sigh under his breath until he spots a small and malnourished fox pokemon sitting quietly by the window, staring outside at the scenery. It hasn’t seemed to have noticed their presences and he observes it for a fraction longer than usual before he takes a step forward. Once he's at its side, it turns round and a single, glassy brown eye blinks at him whilst the other appears to be missing. Furthermore, it only has one tail.

Leon moves to crouch on one knee before the small creature and it regards him silently before throwing its gaze to the window once more, though it wags its small tail.

“Oh! Vulpix…” Raihan’s girlfriend murmurs, “….Poor thing, she's been here more than a month and her owner never came back. She's absolutely lovely, she would be a great choice if it suits your friend."

“I’ll take her,” Leon says, without a moment of hesitation, “Will that be alright?”

She nods with a wide smile. “Of course! I'll get the paperwork ready."

"Paperwork?" he realises he's beginning to dislike that word.

"Yes, it's mostly for our records, then you can pick her up in three days minimum."

"Thanks, I'm looking forward to it!" he exclaims, and she grins in response, picking Vulpix up and off the ground.

"Thank you, Leon!! Isn't this wonderful? You're going to have a new home soon," she coos, lifting one of her paws and wiggling it gently. He can't help but grin.

Raihan's girlfriend hands him the Pokemon and slips her into his arms; their gazes meet and Vulpix blinks her single eye, wags her tail gently, then reaches over and licks his cheek.

She's perfect.

...

Although you’re not quite sure how you managed to get a wink of sleep for the remainder of that night considering what had happened between you and Leon in the garden, you wake up in time for further checkups and the doctors inform you that you will be discharged by end of the day. It's good news, though you will need to make routine visits to get your dressings replaced for a further week or so.

And when you check Rotom, you have received several messages.

Graves will come to pick you up before you are formally discharged and instructs you to get packing. He also briefly tells you his findings about Edward Rose: he was not a satanist but he did not have a good reputation amongst the Rose family. Being one of the lesser known 'Rose', he was remembered for his descent into madness and there is no record on how he obtained or why he chose to use human blood, skin and hair for his painting.

Fifteen paintings are alleged to exist and he was about to complete one more, but this final piece was apparently incomplete and subsequently went missing following his death. The existence of these paintings are bordering mythical. No-one has seen them before and there is no evidence. Just rumours.

But they do exist, and you tell Graves you had found the final painting in the basement of Rose's art gallery, but Graves remarks that there was no such thing when they searched it.

Therefore you realise Rose has already taken it and with that in mind, your fist curls until your knuckles turn white. Realising anything to do with Rose sets you off into an irrevocable rage, you move on and try to think of other things.

Magnolia and Sonia will visit you.

And so will Leon.

You hold your breath as you nervously swipe his message open, letting your eyes roam over the screen. Your mood lifts in a split second and your heart beat speeds up. He asks how you are doing and that he has returned to his duties but he will do his best to visit you before you leave hospital. On this occasion, there is one emoji included but the remainder of the message remains rather professional and straight-forward. You reread it a few more times before a smile worms its way over your face and your heart flutters.

However, you're able to subdue this profound giddiness and your response is a very neutral sounding 'okay' and you hope that's a satisfactory enough answer.

Thus your day begins and it starts off with Sonia and Magnolia visiting as promised; they’ve bagged the first slot and somehow your poster that says 'One Visitor at a Time' no longer applies as they've also brought little Yamper, Cutie and Poltea with them and once they enter the room, you are pounced on as everyone is simply dying to embrace you. Overjoyed to see them, you hug for a lot longer than usual, before Magnolia tells you off again for the danger you had put yourself in but you tell her you will no longer be working on cases and that you will be taking a break.

Pleased with your decision, Magnolia nods to herself.

"I had a dream," you murmur as Cutie and Poltea move to sit on your shoulders, "when you came to pick me up from the psych ward."

Magnolia and Sonia watch you quietly.

"...And I'm really grateful," you add, your fist clinching over the sparse, thin duvet, "for everything. For taking me in, for looking after me. Thank you."

Sonia reacts with a cheerful smile and throws her arms around you again, holding you as tightly as possible and you do the same, whilst Magnolia nods briefly as she balances her cane with both hands.

“That was such a long time ago," Sonia replies, "Don't think about it; it was a bad chapter of your life."

You can only nod.

"How are you feeling anyway?" she adds, when she finally lets go of you.

"I'm okay," you say, and you show her your arm, "...could be better, I guess."

"Hmm... at least the doctors say it's gonna heal. And I heard Leon stayed with you most of the night."

"Yeah, he saved my life."

Sonia giggles whilst Magnolia tells her to keep her voice down, thoroughly reminding her that they're in a hospital. You chuckle as Sonia pouts in response.

They’ve brought you breakfast and lunch in case the hospital food is not sufficient (and it is) and unfortunately they cannot stay for long; their visiting time is over. You and Sonia exchange a long hug and soon, they depart; though you long to tell Sonia what has happened, you feel it’s not particularly the right moment.

In your empty room, Gengar appears from your shadow and though you're aware he dislikes emerging during the day, you're glad he's here and he is happy to see that you are well too; floating over to your side, you and Gengar proceed to share an embrace. You sprawl your arms around his rotund body and back and rest your cheek over the top of his spiky head whilst stubby arms cling to your sides.

"Aww, I missed you too,” you say, and Gengar looks at you with a concerned expression, "I'm fine."

Gengar lets go of you, then puts his hands on his hips and waggles them for a bit and you're wondering what he's trying to say until he glances around the room for a while before he spots an old magazine left on one of the counters. He grabs it, returns to your side and after flipping through some pages, points to you again and then to a random page.

And Leon is on this random page. It's some kind of advert, where he is sitting on a throne with a crown atop his head.

It can only mean one thing.

"Did you see us??" you ask nervously.

Gengar nods and grins mischievously, before he uses a hand to sweep his imaginary hair back and catwalks down your room with a hand on one hip. You didn't realise Gengar had this much sass.

"What's that supposed to mean?" you huff, as his feet leave the floor so he can float up into the air to chuckle. Pointing to you and then to Leon's picture on the magazine, he then clasps both hands together and bats his eyelashes and performs a full three hundred and sixty degree circle in the air.

You roll your eyes in response.

"Harhar, yes, very funny," you reply, but you're smiling.

Gengar returns to rest and you realise you’re missing your other pokemon so you search your room briefly but to no avail; you can’t find the ragdoll anywhere so you leave your room only to see Mimikyu seated outside on one of the empty chairs with her head drooped, crying.

Alarmed, you head over to the pokemon at once, crouching in front of her and big, fat tears drip from the two glowing dots where her eyes should be, staining the dull fabric of its disguise.

“Mimi? What’s wrong???" you exclaim, "Are you hurt? Did someone hurt you?”

“Mi…mi….” she squeaks as she shakes her head, weeping, “Me show you.”

“Okay,” you reply, and as you lower your good arm, she takes a few tiny steps forwards, hops over your elbow and climbs up to sit on your shoulder.

"Mi...are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. It's you I'm worried about."

"Mi...it's okay," she replies, and she uses a shadowy tendril to pat you on top of the head.

"What do you want to show me?"

"This way, mi mi."

She stops crying as she leads you away from your room and out of your ward in its entirety, guiding you to the direction of the paediatric ward and though you’re not sure if you’re allowed inside, Mimikyu asks you to stop at a certain corridor and as you glance at the nearby nurse's station, the nurses don't seem bothered with your presence at all.

“Mi…look,” Mimikyu says, pointing at the wall.

It is covered in crayon drawings of many pokemon that stretches all the way deep into the children’s play area and into the visitor’s hall which you cannot enter. There's even a crayon drawing of a purple pokemon that says 'eKaNs is SnAkE sPeLlEd bAcKwArDs'.

“Me saw,” she adds as you inspect the wall carefully, “No Mimikyu. Other Pokemon, yes. Pikachu…lots of Pikachu. No Mimikyu. Mi….me hatePikachu…” Mimikyu growls before her eyes gleam furiously with murderous intent under her disguise and a dark, wispy miasma begins to escape from her body. Her shadowy tendril twists into a tight claw in response to her anger, shaking with rage, “Me kill Pikachu…”

You try to reassure her but she shakes her head, trembling fiercely with hatred. Underneath the rag, the sounds of teeth grinding can be heard along with a bizarre clicking noise.

"Hey Mimi?"

"What is it, mi?"

"Why do you not want to look like Pikachu?"

Mimikyu blinks at you in shock before her eyes narrow, the glowing dots burning brightly, "....Mi...me wear the skin of the enemy....?" she growls, and this time her voice positively turns low and demonic, "Me think not..."

As Mimikyu hisses and seethes, you place a finger to your chin as you contemplate how different your Mimikyu is compared to others. Considering Mimikyu is upset that there are no pictures of any Mimikyu here, an idea hatches in your mind and you carefully comb through the ward until you pass a room full of screaming children who jump in their beds and throw pokemon dolls around in the air.

A little girl sitting on her own at a play table is busy doodling princess castles on pieces of A4 paper (and unfortunately, onto the table) captures your attention and you head over.

"Hi."

She looks up at you, blinking her big blue eyes. Then she proceeds to stick a green crayon up her nose. Lovely.

"Can I borrow these?" you ask, gesturing to a pack.

She nods, then grabs a brown crayon and sticks that one up her remaining, empty nostril.

Luckily for you, you don't need those colours so you grab several clean crayons and untarnished paper off the play table closest to you and leave the ward and return to your own; you close the door shut and climb over the bed.

“Mi…what are you doing?” Mimikyu asks, baffled, as you spread the paper over the table and lay the crayons out.

“I’ll draw you,” you utter and Mimikyu looks at you with shock.

“You…draw mi?”

“Yep.”

Mimikyu blinks at you blankly before she lets out a high-pitched squeak of glee that makes your eardrums rattle and a lurid snap rips through the room and you throw your glance to the window where a small crack has appeared in one corner. As Mimikyu continues squeaking, albeit at a lower pitch, tears of joy stain the fabric of her disguise once again and two shadowy tendrils proceed to slither out from her mouth and ensnare your head. It's a rather bizarre and cold, clammy sensation as Mimikyu hugs you.

Whilst you smile at her reassuringly, the door to your room opens and you look up to see Jace and two others you didn’t expect to see: Tanner and Cole.

“Duckie!” Jace exclaims with relief and he dives for you but Mimikyu hisses at him, her ragdoll features contorting horrifically and he comes to a skidding halt, letting out a rather high-pitched shriek in progress. "W-what is that?"

“Mimi, this is Jace," you say as you flick a casual glance to the pokemon, "Jace is good.”

“…Jace good?” she says.

“Yeah.”

“Mi…okay.”

"Jace, this is Mimikyu. She prefers being a ragdoll disguise than a Pikachu one."

"Oh, I see."

“That thing can talk,” Tanner says with wide eyes as Mimikyu slowly releases you and slides down to occupy an empty space on your bed, her tendrils slither back inside her mouth which closes up, the stitches returning to their proper place and Jace is free to approach and embrace you with no issues.

“Yeah, she can talk,” you reply, and Tanner and Cole stare at the ragdoll, bewildered. Regardless, you’re more occupied with Jace.

“Are you okay?” you ask as you let go of each other.

He nods wildly, rubbing at his eyes and nose which is very wet. “I’m fine! Are you okay?!!!”

“Yep.”

As you pat Jace reassuringly on the back, the Ghostbunkers glance at each other awkwardly as they stand in the room and everyone looks at each other and it’s as though everyone is thinking the same thing.

“I had to bring these guys,” Jace moans aloud as he jabs a thumb to their direction, “They wanted to tag along.”

Tanner steps forwards. “Yeah. Um, I know you probably don't wanna see us. Me, in particular, which I can totally understand....but we wanted to apologise. We’re really sorry. I’m sorry,” he murmurs. He looks badly battered and sickly in his fraying chalky-white hospital gown. The possession must have taken its toll on him.

“Me too,” says Cole. Unlike his best friend, Cole is in better shape.

“Can you forgive us?” Tanner asks morosely, and he gulps as though he's terrified of your response but you nod and he emits a huge sigh of relief. “Thanks. Oh god, I can't really explain it but I was still conscious when…” he gestures to your poor, bandaged arm, “I’m really sorry. Like so, so sorry. Hell, I don't think sorry's good enough so I brought Runerigus. I think he should stay with you. He's actually really nice... a totally chill guy. Cole, bring him here.”

“Yeah, sure," Cole searches in his pockets and pulls out the capsule which Tanner scoops up; he takes a minute step and leaves it for you on your table then returns to stand sheepishly before you with Cole at his side.

“We’re sorry,” Tanner says again, hanging his head low, “I’m not gonna let this slide, you know. Rose is a double-crossing, no-good Raticate bastard.”

You and Jace nod in agreement.

“I made him richer,” you murmur, “I can’t believe it.”

Cole and Jace appear confused and toss their gazes to you.

"His ancestor Edward Rose was a painter," you explain, "and he died before he could complete a painting, which was the one we found in the basement. It was a map, and it led to a treasure. I asked Chief Inspector Graves to investigate the art gallery but he says they didn't find any painting so obviously Rose has taken it and now there's no evidence of its existence. By now I'm pretty sure Chairman Rose has used it to find the hidden treasure, sold it or hid it away."

"Damn it, he's a clever bastard, I'll give him that," Tanner grunts out, "Cole, what about our video? We recorded it, right?"

"....I hate to say it but the video footage doesn't work. The moment we went into the basement, the recording went fuzzy."

"Yeah, that was probably Edward Rose's doing," you reply, “Rose will make sure it’s as though it never existed so we can’t persecute him or claim compensation.”

“Well, we’re not going to let him get away with it. I’m still going to press charges. Two can play at this game, ya know? I’ll let you know what happens, okay? It’s not fair on us. He used us. We’ve all been played and what happened last night was…crazy, it was so crazy, man.”

“Yeah, it was crazy,” Cole echoes, nodding.

And Tanner shrugs helplessly, lifting a hand and pinching the middle of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “I have no words, man. I mean I don’t really wanna Ghostbunk anymore,” he admits, “Cole doesn’t want to either.”

“Yeah, I don’t wanna Ghostbunk,” Cole says, nodding again.

Although it is of no particular interest to you, you discover Cole is different on his own; once he is paired with Tanner, he seems devoid of personality and reliant on the more confident and boisterous Tanner.

“Anyway. We’ll let you know how we get on,” Tanner finishes.

“Sure. Good luck.”

“Thanks. Good luck to you too. Here, uh…this is our number, if you ever need our help.”

“I doubt it,” Jace whispers, only for you to hear, but you elbow him and smile politely at Tanner.

“Thank you.”

Without anything else to say, Tanner and Cole apologise once again...for almost everything - for making fun of you, for mauling your arm etcetera; you accept their heartfelt apology and they leave your room silently.

"Wow, they were so sorry." Jace says and you nod. "Damn, I should've recorded it."

“Jace-"

"I'm kidding!"

"Well...I’m sorry too,” you mutter.

“Huh? What...? No, no, what are you apologizing for? You did nothing wrong, chuck.”

“It was too dangerous. I should’ve known. You got hurt because of me.”

“Oh c'mon, look at me. I’m fine!!! I'll always be fine,” he says, before he plops his hand atop your head and ruffles your hair; you muster a weak smile as he punches you in the elbow and shoulders playfully, “So...Leon saved you…?”

“Yeah. I’ve told him to stay away from me.”

Jace crosses his arms and nods to himself. “Good, he’s partially responsible for this.”

“I didn’t have to take the case; it was my decision.”

“Yeah, but if you didn’t, you would’ve made Leon look bad.”

You sigh gently. “It’s not like that at all, Jace. Look, it’s happened and no-one’s to blame. Magnolia and Graves don’t want me to work on these cases anymore and I'm going to listen to them. I’m going to go on a break. Well, there's still Spiritomb to catch but from now on, I'm just going to take it easy.”

Jace seems surprised with your resolution. “…I see."

“So, let's not dwell on this anymore. What’re you going to do now?”

“Oh, uh, I've been told I can go home," Jace utters, rubbing the back of his head, "and my friend from Sinnoh is actually coming to visit Galar, he's gonna be a guest judge for the Beauty Pageant, he's got some kind of exhibition match, he wants to try and see a Galarian Zapdos. Oh, and he's also here to inspect the Energy Plant."

"He sounds like a really busy guy."

"He is! Did I mention that he's a gym leader too? And he’s gonna stay at my place so I gotta clean up my flat and-"

You wait for Jace to finish only to see that he is staring limply into space before he whips his head to you and you stare at him in confusion. "What’s wrong?”

“By Jove, I’ve got it!” he exclaims loudly, his jaw hanging open, “Duckie, now that you're not gonna take on any cases, I take it you're pretty much free for the next couple of days???”

“Yeah, I guess…”

“Okay, okay, I’ll give you a call, alright?”

“…Uh, sure.”

“Right, I gotta go. Will you be okay on your own? Anyone picking you up?”

“Yeah. Graves.”

Jace hesitates, then says, "Arceus help you."

"Thanks," you reply, with an all-knowing nod.

After exchanging goodbyes, Jace dashes off and you’re on your own again; glancing at Runerigus’ capsule, you will deal with him at another time. Apparently he's a chill guy.

You’ve still to finish your drawing of Mimikyu and she’s been sitting quietly and very patiently beside you on the bed, occupying herself by playing with some loose threads of your blanket so you resume your sketch of her before colouring it with the crayons and once you’re done, you lift the paper high in the air with a grin and show Mimikyu who looks up and she hops onto your shoulder again to peer at your drawing, pleased with your efforts.

“Mi mi,” she croons, “Me look good.”

You giggle as she squeaks with delight. “Come on, let’s go hang this up,” you say with a grin, and Mimikyu nods.

Leaving your room for the second time, you make your way to the children’s ward and find the same room where you had asked to borrow the paper and crayons, and with the box in hands, you swiftly return the items where the little girl from before is now sticking crayons into her ears and a nurse is trying to stop her.

Returning to the main corridor, you locate the wall with the drawings and scour for an empty spot and once you’ve pinpointed an empty space, you use some blu-tack from another portrait, splitting some of it up, and use it for your own drawing. You proceed to stick Mimikyu’s picture on the wall, pressing hard on the corners to ensure it’s sticking well and Mimikyu nods with happiness and claps using two tendrils.

“Thank you, mi mi,” she says, nodding vigorously with gratitude.

“You’re very welcome, but it would be nice if I could see what’s under your disguise and draw the real you.”

Mimikyu blinks at you, then shakes her head vigorously, “...If you see mi, me will kill you and me....me don’t want that. Me actually like you.”

You stare at your Pokemon in surprise then giggle lightly.

It’s time to return to your ward but Mimikyu tears off several of the children's drawings of Pikachu along the way, prompting you to run and escape the ward as quickly as you can and before you're spotted although you're certain there might be CCTV around. It's too late to reprimand her anyway and as you pass the communal area where you see the door that leads to the yard, you remember last night’s events where Leon had tried to kiss you and your cheeks flare up.

You had almost kissed if Oleana didn’t interrupt.

“I wonder what Leon is doing...” you forlornly utter under your breath before you could help yourself.

You miss him, and you hope he's doing well and you’re brought out of your reverie when you hear someone ‘pssst psst psst’-ing at your direction and glancing over, an old man in a robe seated at a chess table by the window is beckoning you over. You look left and right, then point to yourself.

He nods. “Do you know how to play chess?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh lovely. Would you like to play against me? None of these bozos can.”

Graves won’t be coming for another three hours.

“Sure,” you say, with nothing to lose and tonnes of time to spare.

Thus you head over and sit down on the drab-looking chair, staring at the worn pieces before you pick them up one by one and begin fixing them into their appropriate positions on the board. The old man helps, setting up his own pieces on his side.

The old man looks familiar and he too seems to recognize you. He says, “Aren’t you Leon’s girlfriend?”

“Uh, no, we're not...we're not together.”

"Yet," he says.

You cringe.

“I remember you were together though,” he adds.

"Yeah, I was visiting him when he was in hospital.”

“And now it’s your turn.”

You nod as he snorts with laughter; he asks you what happened but you tell him it’s a long story, to which he tells you he has all the time in the world, so you recount the tale of Rose and the haunted art gallery as the game begins.

“Uh-huh, I see, then what happened?” he asks; he moves his pawn to forward to which you counter.

You tell him about Runerigus, Tanner, Cole, the possession. Everything.

“What other cases have you worked on?” he asks. You're surprised he's listening and not questioning your sanity as most do.

You tell him about the ghost of South Miloch as your game progresses and you're taking the lead and soon, your story has caught the attention of a passing old lady using a walking frame.

“Did you just say the ghost of South Miloch?” she says with a slight, nasally pitch to her voice, and she turns to you and the old man questioningly before she adds, “I saw it with me own eyes!”

“Sally, this young lady solved the case and broke the curse,” the old man says, and the woman subjects you to an incredulous look.

“Oooh, did you, sweetheart?” and old Sally hobbles to the closest seat nearest to your chess table and plops herself down. “Molly, come here! This is the girl who solved the Miloch case! I told you I wasn’t seeing things! I told you I saw a ghost!”

She’s addressing another elderly woman who’s seated near the telly on a plushy couch with today’s newspapers propped up in her withered hands. Upon being called, Molly looks away from her paper behind her spectacles and glances over; Sally excitedly beckons her over to join with a little wave and a toothy grin and she sighs and gets up slowly, then shuffles over and joins her on the couch.

Glancing at the OAPs, it seems you have gathered an audience who are interested in listening and learning about all your exploits.

“Well? Go on then, dear, tell us more,” Sally says with a gummy smile, and you blink wide-eyed at them.

“Oh, um…well, it was to do with a will and a massive family inheritance..."

And so you share with them the details about the case, from the very beginning of the investigation, through to the middle and to the very end though you do omit names for privacy; the chess game seems to have become forgotten and before you know it, you’ve attracted a small crowd so you move to one of the sofas near the television which grants you a full view of the entire communal area so your small group can listen and gather around you properly. They nestle themselves on the couches, listening keenly as you eagerly recount your tales of hidden treasures, lost loves and spooky phantoms.

Suddenly, a nurse enters the room and calls your name loudly.

Pausing in mid-sentence, you glance over and see Graves standing beside her. He takes one look at you, then at the elderly patients who have gathered around you and raises a brow.

“We’re going now,” he barks.

Time had flown by so quickly.

“Okay,” you rise and leave your seat and your crowd of elderly patients begin to whine but they’re quickly dispersed by the nurses. You tell them your online blog contains more details though you’re aware that they probably don’t really know how to work the internet and they should ask their tech-savvy grandchildren.

Checking the clock on the wall, it's then you realise Leon hadn’t come to visit you after all.

...

Leon has been trying to visit you but is always prevented to do so at the very last minute. He's had a photoshoot that's taken up his entire morning and afternoon, then once he's finished and he thinks he has time to go to the hospital, if it isn’t a fan asking for a photo and autograph, it’s Rose asking him to head over to a route to help sort something out before he's directed to a city or another route for something else.

He’s keen to visit you and checking the clock on his phone, he sees the hours trickle one by one yet the moment he thinks he has a minute to spare, he is lulled into a false sense of security as something else crops up and he’s forcibly whisked away.

You got him a gift last time and so he is set in his mind to get you a gift too; he’s already got Vulpix but she isn't available to be collected yet so he's keen to get you something else.

Aware that you’re going to be discharged soon, if not now, he quickly finishes up his task and uses this opportunity to venture to the hospital before he's missed. He sends you a quick message to let you know that he is coming.

On his way, he enters a gift shop on the outskirts filled with quaint décor and with Charizard, he commences some casual browsing where he eventually settles to purchase a bouquet of multicoloured flowers which he is quite certain you will like. The florist has reassured him on this, too.

Without further ado, Leon heads to the hospital.

And as you’re packing your bag in your room, Graves knocks on the door, enters and asks, “You ready?”

“Yeah,” you say, as you sling the bag over your shoulder and you make sure you have Runerigus and Mimikyu’s capsule whilst Gengar lingers in your shadow.

You try one more time to message Leon but your reception suddenly decides to go kaput and you have been unable to get through to him or receive messages for the past hour or so.

Graves waits outside as you spare one more glance to your now-empty room, at the pristine bed, the empty table and chair. The blinds are pulled up and the sun’s setting, casting a beautiful orangey glow within and your face falls when you check the clock again and throw your glance to the door as though you’re expecting a certain purple-haired someone to come rushing in, panting and looking adorably sweaty and breathless whilst unnecessarily and continuously apologising for being late and you will smile and tell him it’s fine and –

“Alright then, let’s go.” Graves says, swinging a set of car keys with one finger.

"Did you talk to Rose?"

"I did. I'll fill you in later. Let's grab something to eat first.”

"Okay."

You leave the room with Graves carrying your bag for you and promptly head down the corridor, arriving at the lift. Graves presses the button, whistling. He spots a nurse who smiles at him and he clears his throat.

“Good evening, ma’am.”

“Hello, Chief Inspector Graves. Is this your daughter?”

“Uh….sort of.”

The nurse passes sweeping looks between you and the much older Graves, and he appears to have also realised his mistake; whilst you roll your eyes, Graves splutters out an explanation but the nurse leaves with no further follow up.

“When’s this stupid lift coming,” Graves ends up complaining loudly. “Hurry up, damnit.”

There are two lifts but it seems they are exceptionally slow.

Downstairs and Leon with flowers anxiously waits for the lift to arrive, hoping he’s not too late.

People are actively staring and he will wave and smile but they appear to respect his privacy and so he's mostly left alone though the massive bouquet in his hands causes some brows to raise. Charizard helps preen him, licking his claws and tidying his hair, pinching loose strands together and flattening them over the sides of his head. Leon grins at his pokemon and Charizard attempts to give him a thumbs up.

The lift arrives and he steps in; the lift begins to ascend.

Upstairs and the lift doors open and Graves mutters, “Finally, took it long enough,” he grumbles and grunts but lets you enter first and then hops in himself, pressing the button for the basement where the carpark is.

And as the doors begin to close, you hear the sound of the lift opposite yours opening with a loud ‘ping’ and as you look up, the doors of your lift slide to a close, but through the tiny one inch gap, you think you see a familiar shade of purple -

-  and Leon steps out, just as the doors to the lift opposite his has closed and begins descending.

He rushes towards the direction of your room with flowers in hand but the door is open and the bed is neatly made and the room is empty.

Confused, he returns to the nurse’s desk and asks for your whereabouts.

“Oh, she just got in that lift,” the nurse says, pointing to the aforementioned elevator, “Literally one minute ago. You just missed her.”

For the first time in Leon’s life, he was devastated.

...

[blueeyedgeorgie]

Close My Eyes (5)

I close my eyes and I make believe  You’re the one that’s holding me

Gif cred. @sdmngifs​

Pairing: WillNE x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k+

Pronouns: She/Her

A/N: Final chapter.

_____________________

Y/n stared at herself in the mirror. This was finally happening, she was going to get her happy ending. Y/n stared at herself in the mirror, she wore a white gown, her hair and makeup were done. She was going to be Mrs. Lenney later tonight. It had been a couple of years since Will and Y/n got together. They were now in their later 20's. When planning out their wedding, Will had been so kind. Y/n had as much control as she wanted over the wedding. She decided to get married at the Temperate House and Nash Conservatory in Kew Gardens, so that's where they were. "Y/n, someone wants to speak to you!" The h/c bride pulled herself out of her thoughts, turning to see her maid of honor. Gaby was dressed in her bridesmaid gown while she held her phone out to Y/n/ Glancing at the caller ID, Y/n noticed the name 'Will'. She took the phone, muttering a small 'thank you' to her friend. "Hi, Will. Miss me already?" Y/n stepped away from the window, moving to look out the window. "Of course I do," Will could be heard on the call. "Y/n, I know how your engagement ended last time. I just want to make sure that you know you don't have to get married if you don't want to. I hope you don't think I'm trying to force you to marry me, I love you. If you wanna call the wedding because you don't wanna do it, I understand." "You're not getting cold feet on me, are you?" "For you? Never." "Will, do you plan to emotionally, verbally, and physically abuse me?" "Never. I could never hurt you, N/n." Y/n smiled to herself. She knew it was the right choice to carry on with the wedding. "Then I know I want to marry you, William Lenney. I love you. You've always made me feel safe, protected, and loved." "I love you too, Y/n." "I'll see you soon, my husband." Will felt butterflies in his stomach when Y/n said those last two words. He was going to be her husband. He was the happiest he could be. When it was finally time to walk to the pastor and Will, Y/n was excited. She was going to be married to the man she loved. The man she had known since forever. As Y/n stepped out to walk down the aisle, everyone's attention was turned to her. Will could feel himself getting teary-eyed at the sight of her.  She was gorgeous. This was actually happening. He was going to have a future with this woman. The wedding went smoothly. When the couple reached their vows, Y/n had to fight back sobs from how happy she was. Will kept himself from crying, but his eyes were still glossy. As soon as the pastor spoke those final words, "you may now kiss the bride," Will pulled Y/n in for the most passionate kiss he could give her. After the wedding, everyone had left, leaving the newlyweds alone to get a few photos together and to just have time to themselves before their reception. "This all feels so strange," Y/n held her husband's hand in hers as they walked through the garden. "But it's a good strange." "It feels amazing." Will couldn't even focus on the garden, he was much more interested in his wife. "It does. But it's still crazy to think we wouldn't be here if he wasn't an idiot." Will knew exactly who Y/n was speaking about. He was happy she didn't bother to mention his name on their wedding day. "No, I think we'd be here. I think if he never showed up in the first place, we would've been married sooner." Y/n's smile widened. "God, I love you, Will." "I love you, Y/n." After getting their photos taken, Y/n had left Will be to go and change out of her wedding dress into something lighter she'd be able to party in. "How does it feel to be, Mrs. Lenney?" Gaby had helped Y/n out of her wedding gown. "Gaby, I'm so happy. Everything feels right. This is what I wanted in life," Y/n smiled as she picked up a white dress she got when choosing out her wedding dress. "I'm so happy for you, Y/n. You're like a sister to me. You deserve happiness after what that cunt put you through last time." Y/n shuddered at the thought of Everett. "That's the second time he's been mentioned today. I don't think I wanna keep mentioning him, especially today." "Yeah, I'm sorry about that." Gaby let out a short sigh, "I'll put your wedding gown up." "Thank you, Gaby." "Anything for you, Y/n," Gaby smiled at her friend.

When everyone met back up at the reception, Will couldn't help but smile at his wife. "Somehow there isn't a moment when you aren't gorgeous." "I hope you'll still be saying that in 40 years when I'm old and gray," Y/n smiled at her husband, pulling him in for a kiss. "I'll tell you that every day to remind you how much I adore you," Will muttered quickly, leaning his forehead against Y/n's as soon as they ended their kiss. "I think it'd just be easier to remind me how much you love me every day." "I can do that too," Will grinned. After a bit of bantering and getting settled, everyone was seated at their assigned seats. Will decided to make a small speech to the crowd soon after it seemed everyone was ready for the reception to start. "Hello everyone, I'd like to thank you all for coming to celebrate Y/n and my wedding." Will stood up from his seat, an excited grin was spread on his face as he spoke, "I am beyond happy to now be able to call Y/n my wife. She means everything to me. I don't know where I'd be today if I hadn't met her. With every day that goes by, I'm happy to say she's so important to my life. Y/n, I love you. You don't know how lucky I am to have you as my wife." Y/n could feel her eyes water from Will's short speech. She had always felt so loved by him. She had muttered a small 'love you,' to him as she smiled at her husband. As the night continued on, everyone had been served dinner. One thing Y/n had noticed throughout the night was how Gaby and George seemed to be getting really close. Y/n had even pointed it out to her husband. "I think they'll end up hooking up by the end of the night," Will whispered into Y/n's ear during their fifth dance. "As much as Gaby is a hookup type of girl, I think she'll end up wanting to get in a relationship with George. She's been talking about settling down with someone. I think they'd make an amazing couple." Y/n replied, her head was buried in the crook of Will's neck as he held her close. "It'd be interesting to see them in a relationship. They're so different yet they also have a lot in common." "That's what I was thinking," Y/n pulled away from the crook of her husband's neck to look up at him. As soon as the dance had ended, Gaby had appeared on the dancefloor. "Hi Will, I'm gonna have to steal Mrs. Lenney for this next dance." Before Will could respond, Gaby had already pulled Y/n away, placing her hands on Y/n's waist as the next dance began. "You won't believe what just happened to me five minutes ago." "You're pregnant?" "Not yet, luckily. I don't think I'll ever be ready for kids," Gaby blew a hair out of her face. "George asked me out." Y/n grinned, "Will and I were just talking about how close you two were acting tonight." "When did you guys notice?" "We thought you two looked cute when you guys walked down the aisle together before me, we noticed at the reception." "Well I hope we'll be able to have a few more dates after the first, I've always thought George was attractive." Gaby glanced over Y/n's shoulders, making eye contact with the boy they were talked about that very moment. George stood by the tables, speaking to Will, he kept his eyes on Gaby. "How long have you been crushing on him?" "I'm guessing I realized it was a crush about four months ago." "Well, the newlyweds think you two would make a great couple." Y/n giggled, "Thank you for being my friend, Gaby." "Not to steal from your husband's speech or anything, but I don't know where I'd be without you, Y/n." "Remember when we were younger and we made a promise to each other that if we reached 35 and neither of us was married, we get married?" "I guess that's not gonna be happening now." Gaby grinned as she spoke. "Well, maybe you'll end up marrying George," the bride winked playfully at her bridesmaid. "Maybe I will." Gaby smiled at her friend, "But enough about my relationships. On to the next topic I wanted to speak to you about, who are you naming your first kid after, and do I get to be the godparent?" The night followed with Y/n and Will cutting their cake together and a bit more partying. Will had made a couple of jokes about shoving Alex's face into a slice of cake like he had done years ago on one of the first Eboys videos. (He didn't shove Alex's face into cake tonight, don't worry.) But Will also had one more wedding surprise to give to Y/n. While Y/n was able to sort everything she wanted about the wedding, Will had asked for permission to have one surprise for her. When the surprise was ready, Will had asked for everyone to come outside. On their way out, Y/n had tried to figure out what the surprise was. A new car? A celebrity was here? What did will do? For a moment, nothing happened once everyone was outside. But everyone's attention had been pulled to the sky when a firework had been set off. Y/n's face lit up brighter than the fireworks that had started to go off. "I can't believe you did this for me," she smiled, turning to face his husband. "Of course, I did. I know you love fireworks." Will smiled down at his wife, "I love you Y/n Lenney." "I love you, Will Lenney." Y/n felt her lips connect with Will's for another sweet kiss. When the kiss had ended, Y/n had noticed something else. People were holding sparklers now. "I don't know how you've sorted this all out. I'd say I'd marry you for doing this, but I already have." Both of them knew that very moment, there wasn't any chance they wouldn't end what they had. This is all either of them wanted. Y/n wanted Will. Will wanted Y/n. They both had each other. They had their happy endings.