#someone is going to wake up tomorrow and scroll far enough to find this

[silvermizuki]

Quick its nearly 4am no ones awake to witness biblically accurate ed sheeran corndog sun

[otakuworks]

❛ 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔. angst

feat. Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader | wc. 2.1K

sum. it was always him who has to go and leave you with the cold sheets, leon didn't know what it felt like until he came home with an empty house and no signs of your warmth. he makes it to his mission to find you.

note. entirely self indulgent since I'm a sucker for this man. no leon in this fic is not as old as he was in the gif.

main m.list re m.list

Today the storm would hit. All the local news channels were talking about the immense storm that was brewing just outside the city walls. You usually prefer the tranquility it brought if it wasn't for the gloomy atmosphere in the room.

Dim lights, closed tawdry curtains and half eaten confectionery. This setting was not unfamiliar to you, in fact, you had grown accustomed to the regular loneliness that it became your best friend.

With your boyfriend far away, it wasn't hard to decipher you were in a relationship with someone who prioritize their work.

It's a bitter thought at first, but as much as you want Leon to switch job you had already adapted this type of life as his S/O. He provided your necessities in his absence, but you still worked your ass to earn your own money

But. . . such glamorous life is not as tempting as being alone in that cold home and befriending with the ghosts that haunt your nightmares.

To a stranger's standpoint they may think Leon Kennedy is a Prince Charming; he may look the part, but to you, he was just an awkward boyfriend with little to no experience when it came to romance. He was rough around the edges and a goal-orientated person, but a natural smooth flirt with you.

Maybe that's what drawn you to him. Leon is a charming and handsome man who only has raw emotions to confess. You remember how adorable he was when he fumbled his confession.

You miss the startup of your relationship; the typical hand holding, the cliche whispers of sweet nothingness, the innocent stolen glances, the often awkward conversation that led to one another.

Relationships do start like a paradise before eventually becoming a dystopian nightmare. It was fun at the start, you enjoyed the times you spent with Leon and you wouldn't trade those memories for anything, however. . . it's been so long since you've seen paradise.

It's always the dawn light basking you in its morning warm before the cold space besides your bed wakes you up to reality.

Today was no different. You wake up, take a hot bath, make breakfast, eat your breakfast, brush your teeth, go to work, make or buy lunch, go home, nap, make dinner then sleep. A repetitive cycle that still leaves you bedridden oftentimes.

You're aware of his profession. No, he didn't tell you anything and he doesn't know that you know. You were smart enough to deduce this much on what's going on with your boyfriend, that's why you understood why he had to be away for such long periods of time.

Hadn't you pieced it together, you'd doubt his loyalty to you. You badly want to confront him with the relevation you found, but he hasn't been answering your texts nor calls. So you let it be.

Until you received a short message from him;

"Hey, sweet cake. I'll be back by tomorrow morning."

You laugh bitterly. Every text he sends is neither comprised with a greeting of his arrival or his departure. Now that you think about it. One strong scroll up to your previous conversations and you'll be overwhelmed by a tons of same texts.

Thunder roared, the heavy rain began pelting down and you took it as a sign to retire to your shared bedroom.

You slumped in the mattress with a blissful sigh, today's work was tiring as usual. Sleep was lulling you in your dreams when you heard an audible thud reverberating in the living room.

*THUD*

Bristling, a frown settled on your forehead and tried to make sense if it was a figment of your imagination due to lassitude or there's someone in the house. The latter made your heart leap and you promptly got up, out of your somnambulism.

The harsh pitter pat plus the occasional thunder outside only increases the building anxiety in your chest.

Was it Leon? It couldn't be him when he just texted me. He usually rings the bell, and that's not how our doorbell sounds.

Albeit slowly as to try not to make any noise, you peak through the small gap between the door's hinges and a shadow immediately loomed the other side.

Out of instinct, you gasped audibly and clamped your hands over your mouth, hoping whoever's outside has a poor hearing sense.

Your eyes darted in the small room to find any form of weapon you can defend yourself. If Leon works for the government, surely he must be hiding his guns somewhere in his home.

However, you weren't quick enough to deduce the possible location before the door is kicked open making you shriek in fright and hid on the other side of the bed.

You had grabbed your phone on the nightstand and began to type to your boyfriend. Hopefully he'll see it before you get killed.

This intruder is not even hiding the fact they're here. If so, they're not your simple criminal who steals at night.

"Never thought I'd hear the rookie got himself a partner in life, he can't even get a partner in his job." A gruff voice bounced off the four walls of the small room.

It's definitely not Leon and you've never met this man before.

A glinting object from the drawers of your night stand caught your undivided attention. With shaking hands, you fumble to open the drawer and nearly sigh out of relief when you came across a simple gun. You immediately snatched it and switch the safety.

Footsteps began to near your spot. "What a shame, though. I love a good hunt and you didn't even give me a proper one. You're disappointing as your boyfriend." In one swift movement, the bed you were hiding was swooped from the other corner.

Your terrified scream were drowned by the sound of the loud banging reverberating countless times in the room, the poor wooden bed easily breaking upon meeting the cold stone wall with such brutal force. The pieces clanked with a rough thud.

You coiled tightly like a spring in the corner with your almost unhinged jaws, full moon eyes, chattering teeth, drenched temples and shuddering shoulders.

In your frenzy state, you subconsciously held the gun at the man, fingers curling on the trigger. "Ah! Ah! It won't do you any good if you pull that. After all, my knives are faster than guns."

"W-Who are you?" You praised yourself for even uttering those words as you look up at the bulky man. The most noticeable feature you noticed is the scar running from left eye to the side of his lips. He's clad in what it looks like a standard military outfit.

An airy chuckle left his mouth, he bends down on your level making you recoil even further at the corner.

"Who am I? Let's ask your boyfriend after he saves you, that is, if he will come save you. Sweet dreams, Y/N L/N."

You were harshly slammed in the head before you could wonder how he knows your name or if you had the time to send Leon a parting message.

A cold breeze morning welcomed the dying rays of the sun, the incandescent amber tones of the twilight illuminated the streets, ever so vibrant; full of life, peope, kaleidoscopic colors, children laughing. The only thing missing is you.

Leon was originally ecstatic about his somewhat safe return in your arms. He hasn't been home in literal months and saying he misses you would be an understatement of the year.

The previous mission took a while to accomplish because of unprecedented occurrences that made it impossible to finish in the given set of time.

But his ardor energy was brought down at the mention of another yet mission to accomplish. It's worse to think he can't even refuse it because it was given to him by the direct orders of the president.

What's even worse is that he has to fly to another country for this.

He was thankful enough that he gets to spend his day with you before departing to Spain. He's both physically and mentally drained to think about it. All he needs is to cuddle with you and convey about the many things he wants to talk with you.

It's the best he could do for you if he'd be away for god knows how long. He feels guilty for keeping you in his life if this is the treatment you'll receive from him.

You never asked him any questions, it's always about his health and everything, but personal questions? You never did. He knows it isn't because you're not interested, it's more like you already know.

He shakes his head at the thought. He's confident he has been discreet enough to not let anything slip on what he deals in his job.

Reaching the shared house, a sudden uneasiness crept in his back. It looks relatively normal on the outside, but Leon can't help the nagging feeling that something is not right.

He dropped his duffel bag by the door and cautiously rang the bell.

Each passing second being unresponsive was filled with anxiety.

Perhaps you're at work. With that in mind, he fished out the spare key to unlock the door. Upon turning the knob, the hinges fell apart until the whole door collapsed on the tiled floor.

On a daily scenario, Leon would've taken out his gun or knife by now knowing someone had broke in his home, where he thought you'd be the safest. You.

But he has been reduced to a state of panic that his eyes became frantic and his breathing became labor. No! No! No! NO!

The most rational thing would've been calling the cops to report this. The thing is, Leon is nowhere near rational. If any living thing crosses his path, god knows what he might do regardless if they're innocent or not.

"Y/N!" He ran straight to their bedroom. What he saw blurred his sense of reality. He can't even fathom what animal did this.

No. . . it's not a work of any animal. He's been around to all types of violence to decipher who did this. Fuck! This can't be happening.

Overwhelmed by the surge of fear, his mind alluded him under the illusion that Y/N could be hiding somewhere in the house. He searches the whole place.

Every room, even ones that don’t make sense— basement, pantry, closet, attic— are thrown open haphazardly in search of you. Each passing room turning out to be empty is taking more of his sanity.

Reality dawned him. You're gone. Taken. Captured. Possibly turned

Before he realizes it, a lone tear cascaded on his cheek.

This man was trained to be a cop, fought zombies on his first day, held his gun at any threats, obeyed any command. He's a soldier who's first instinct is to fight back when he's kicked down, who never gives up when he loses and yet. . .

He was slumped on the floor. Weakened. Hopeless.

The word 'irony' is quite befitting for him. He, who has been fighting all his life, can't even get up at the mere prospect of his S/O's disappearance.

He loves you. He fucking loves you so much it puts the word itself into shame. He didn't show it enough though.

Now that you're gone, he began to realize certain things. How lonely you must be whenever he leaves. What emotions you're feeling when he can't response to your texts. Do you think he's unfaithful? Well, he can't blame you.

He's always choosing work over you and often going behind your back to accomplish simple missions when he's supposed to be with you at night. It's considered as cheating, isn't it?

He gnawed his lip, head starting to clear but the agony stayed. No, he can't be swayed by his emotions like this. If he can accomplish the most impossible missions why can't he do the same with you?

He'll find you.

Once he does, there's nothing on Earth that'll stop him from raining hell on your captors.

©OTAKUWORKS | 2023

[rantingsofthehumanmind]

6

Reader is Vertin, so they are ooc here. The only warning is that this piece is not beta read. It is completely sfw enjoy.

6 is nothing but determined. After coming to the briefcase, he's been putting his best foot forward on assisting you on any issues that need to be addressed. Even chiming in new ideas when needed.

He can't really say he enjoys doing this. No, he'd prefer being back on the island, far from his followers' sights and listening to the waves of the sea beating the shore. Watching as the sky color blends to a soft red-orange hue to a calming dark blue glittered with bright stars. With only the harsh wind as a backdrop to his daily reading. But he can not let his knowledge go to waste. You, Miss.Vertin, were kind enough to offer him a spot here, and maybe that was more fate's decision than yours, but he will be as steadfast as he was when he was the leader of Aperion.

From his observations, 37 seemed to be getting along with everyone well. A social butterfly fluttering around the room engaging and blending into the harmonious combination of the briefcase' occupatants. It seems almost natural for her to be here, while 6 seemed to fade into the background.

As Knight gathered some people around for a story, 6 took the chance to slip away and hide himself away in a study room. Laying out his scroll, he goes over the same words time and time again as he heard the soft scratch of a pen on paper. Before he could inquire about the source of it, he found himself falling asleep to a soft hum and began to close his eyes.

~

When 6 wakes up, he doesn't know what time it is but knows it's night from the soft blue light that feeds in from the glass wall. He's lying down now but awkwardly laying on the chair he was sitting on with his head on someone's lap the same hum from before floating in the room. He looks to see you gazing out the wall, combing your fingers through his hair. You feel him shift and look down at him with a soft smile.

"It seems you're finally awake. I was wrapping up some work with Sonetto when we noticed you sleeping here. I volunteered to stay and let you sleep. I hope you didn't mind."

He's careful to stand up and fix himself. "My apologies how disgraceful it must be to sleep in a place like this."

The chuckle you let out is soft and light like the cloudy sky outside the wall. "No worries, if sleeping was a concern, I dont think Baby Blue would have so many napping spots. But 6 I do have a proposition for you."

"And that would be?"

"A picnic, tomorrow. I'll have the food prepared, but I wanted to get to know you more and thought it would be the perfect chance to do so."

6 is caught off with your invitation and was close to saying no when he looked back at you and saw the moonlight glint in your eye. For a moment, he's starstruck from the sight and finds himself answering before his brain can process the words.

"Yes, I would.. I would be happy to join you."

[happilydistinguishedbanana]

Fallen Pt. 1: Questions

Authors note: Ahhh I’m so excited for this!! This is a alternate reality where the reader wakes up in the Star Wars universe!! I have been wanting to do this for a while, but I have not been the first. I would like to credit Eagleness and Talita01 on AO3 for the idea. If there is anyone else who has done the same, please let me know! This is also pre-Echo era, but he will appear later. Also please let me know if I should choose just a single batcher for the reader to be with or all of them!

Warnings: Blood, vomiting

Summary: One day I’m watching my favorite show in my college dorm room. The next morning I wake up in a hospital with no idea how I got there and two Jedi who are just as confused as myself.

Word count: 2458

Relationship: Undecided Batcher(s) x Female Reader

Part 2

As much as I loved bar hopping with my friends and drinking until I can’t tell the difference between left and right, I hate waking up the next morning with a hangover and a 2,000 word essay due for my college midterm.

“Come on, Sweetie.” My friend Corey moaned, her arm grasping my own with a vice like grip. “Just a few drinks and then we’ll take you home.”

I rolled my eyes. The last time they promised that, I got home after 4:00 am and missed two of my morning classes. Although it didn’t make much of a difference then, I couldn’t afford it this time. “No, I’m not going.”

“What a buzzkill.” One of Corey’s friends whispered to her obnoxious boyfriend. I never liked her and her long nails and her fried hair that she straightened far too often. Her voice sounded like metal scratching on metal and I had no idea how she managed to become friends with someone as nice as Corey. But maybe Corey was the desperate one.

“I’m sorry Corey.” I whispered. “I can’t go tonight, I have stuff due tomorrow.”

She frowned, but dropped my arm and shuffled over to her other friends. She looked back and forth between me and my dorm room's door. “A-are you sure?” She stuttered, her fingers lightly gripping the doorknob. They trembled.

“Corey-”

“Let’s go.” Her friend whined, coddling up to her boyfriend as if she would die if she stood there any longer. I don’t think he minded though seeing as he groped her in the ass. “This new bar opened up, right by that good Chinese place. I’m staaarving.”

“Yeah, come on Corey.” The boyfriend jumped in. “We’re wasting time sitting around here.”

“Leave her, girl.” The girl clicked her tongue impatiently. Sometimes I wonder how Corey got dragged into being friends with people like that. They’re nothing special, and even she doesn’t seem to like them. Maybe I’m delusional.

“Alright.” Corey nodded, giving me one last look before opening the door and leaving with her lackluster friends. I couldn’t help but notice the unshed tears pooling in her eyes.

I pulled out my phone quickly to send her a text, but my battery was dead. Stumbling through my dorm, I frantically searched for a charger. Under the bed, in the dresser, on my nightstand, even inside the mini fridge, but it was like it vanished.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” I ran my hands through my hair. If I couldn’t find my cord, I wouldn’t be able to text Corey, and if her friends are as bad as they seem, they might leave her to find a way back to the dorms. What if she needed a ride? What if something happens? What if she just needs a friend to talk to?

I tapped my foot nervously before deciding that slumping down in my bed and pulling out my computer would be my best course of action. Maybe finishing my essay would distract me enough.

I scroll through what I had written, rereading paragraph after paragraph only to find that everything was finished and edited. All I would need to do was print the damn thing and submit it tomorrow morning. I could have gone out with Corey after all.

But it was too late to do anything about it now. My hands moved to open a new tab and click onto the familiar bookmark that I kept close to my heart. The website started up and I eagerly opened my favorite pastime of my college years. The Bad Batch.

I had watched the infamous Star Wars saga when I was young, usually with a bowl of popcorn and my favorite drink to go with. My father watched the first ever movie when he was just a child in 1977 and after he had kids of his own, he wanted them to experience the same joy he had felt. It stuck with me and I continued to watch any show related to it since.

But the Bad Batch was something I had gotten into a little later than everyone else. Both seasons were released when I started watching it and after several long months, today was the day I was going to finish it. It would have been exciting if I didn’t already know what happened. Spoilers still reached my ears no matter how hard I tried to ignore it.

“Plan 99.” Tech said through the screen, my own lips quoting every word. I watched him fall to his death and despite knowing he was going to die, I still felt sad. But I did not cry, I hardly ever cried when I was sad and this certainly was not an exception. And maybe a part of that was influenced because Tech’s death just didn’t feel solid. It felt fake. It didn’t feel as real as when Echo “died” or when Gregor “died.” Something was missing from the equation.

My eyes started to droop by the time I finished the final episode. I checked the clock to see it was past 12:00. Corey wasn’t home, she wouldn’t be at this time. I tried to stay up to wait for her, to make sure she came back all in one piece. But the draw of sleep was just too hard to resist. I fell into a fitful rest.

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

I did not share a room with anyone, so when I drifted awake, I laid rigidly when I heard several voices just outside the door. Several male voices though they sounded strangely familiar.

When I opened my eyes, I became even more confused. This was not my room. Bright lights were shining on me as if I was some test subject. There were medical monitors and white walls and the stale smell of medicine and disinfectant.

A hospital. I was in a hospital.

I sat up and took in my surroundings even more. I wore a medical gown, there were no handles on the doors, the male voices outside were still there, a… droid was sifting through a drawer on the opposite side of the room?

My breath caught in my throat. A part of me knew that I was not in any danger, but seeing a hunk of metal the size of a grown man, pulling out needles and bottles out of a drawer did nothing to calm my nerves. I certainly did not feel any better when he? It? Turned to me and started speaking in a language I did not know.

“Wait!” I jumped out of the cot when it tried to grab me by the arm. I stumbled back into some of the equipment, glass and metal and wires crashing into the floor with me. The droid skittered around still speaking gibberish as if it became flustered and confused.

I whipped my head around when the door slid open. I audibly gasped when none other than Mace Windu and Obi Wan Kenobi stepped through the door, their lightsabers in their hands like second nature, ready for use.

They were on alert until they saw me on the floor. They sheathed their sabers and gave each other a look I couldn’t read.

Windu went to calm down the droid while Obi Wan headed over to me. He was speaking to me, saying words I’m sure anyone else could understand. I stared at him blankly and suddenly he stopped, turned, said a few words to Windu, and then pulled me up by the shoulder and placed me back on the cot. He then ushered the droid out of the room leaving Windu and I alone.

I could feel pain in my shoulder, and I reached back with my hand to find out why. It came back bloody. I shivered before rushing over to the sink at the other end of the room and vomited. I felt a warm hand on my back and mumbled words which I knew were words or reassurance. But I still couldn’t understand anything.

Windu started to dress my wound, though it was done rather poorly. He said nothing more to me, and it gave me a moment to think.

I’ve seen stuff similar to this in movies and T.V shows.Young boys traveling to the past, superheroes ending up in alternate universes, people using telephone booths as a time machine, I’ve even had dreams about similar concepts. But this certainly didn’t feel like a dream. I never had a dream that felt so real, I never felt pain in a dream, never felt the coolness of air filtering in through a vent, never smelt the stale disinfectant smell of hospitals. Could this reality be real?

Windu finished right in time for Obi Wan to return, a datapad in hand. They both chatted to each other quietly, Obi Wan waving the device in the air. Windu nodded and then left the room.

I watched Obi Wan hesitantly. He was one of my favorite characters, but I don’t throw my trust around blindly. And knowing him, I’m sure he doesn’t trust me either.

He approached me and pushed the data pad close to my mouth. He pointed a finger at his lips, said a few words, and then pointed to the data pad. It picked up his words, printing them onto the screen and displaying them in a language that I had seen written on billboards in the show but never took the time to understand.

I opened my mouth to speak and said the first thing that came to mind. “I need to fucking pee.”

It took a moment for the scanner to pick up what I said, but eventually words started to form on the screen. Obi Wan turned it around, looked at it and then laughed. His eyes glittered while he tinkered with the device and then he spoke a few more words into it and handed it over to me.

How badly? It read.

I gave him a knowing look and he laughed again and gestured towards the door. I felt a bit vulnerable in just my gown, but I followed him anyway. We weren’t on Kamino, I knew that much. Maybe Coruscant? There weren't any windows in the medical facility I was put in. The walls were white and medical droids and other patients walked the hallways, but there wasn’t a clone in sight. It must be a local hospital.

Obi Wan was speaking to me as best as he could through the datapad. Simple questions like my name and age and how I ended up passed out in front of the Jedi Temple. That was something I could not answer. I kept quiet for the most part about where I was from or what I was doing before now. If it was true that I fell through into another universe, I don’t think it would be smart to tell a Jedi Master that.

The bathrooms are just up ahead. He said and I thanked him.

Eventually he took me outside the facility, and I got a view of what was the bustling city planet known as Coruscant. Speeders and ships flew through the air, hundreds of people and aliens alike walked the streets as if today was just any other day. For them it was a normal day. For me, it might have been my worst nightmare.

We walked to the Jedi Temple, the sheer size intimidating. I started to think that they might use some Jedi mind tricks on me, break down any sanity I had just to find the truth. And then another part of me thought that they had no idea and really I was just some random girl who showed up on their doorstep. But what worried me the most was if they thought I was some Separatist spy. Thinking that made me question which was worse. Psychological torture or physical torture.

But all of my worries vanished once we were inside. It was like everything suddenly got brighter, happier, and more peaceful. It was like a breath of fresh air, and suddenly I was calm. Jedis clad in long robes of brown and white and gray walked casually about, their footsteps eerily quiet. It smelt like honeysuckle and tea. Old. It smelt really old.

Kenobi spoke again. I glanced at the datapad in my hands. You’ve calmed. I nodded and he continued to talk. You weren’t before. I could sense your unease, but I could also sense that you are familiar with me and Master Windu. Isn’t that right?

I didn’t answer. He wasn’t wrong, I knew him a hell of a lot more than he might think. Windu more or less.

“Why are we here?” I asked as if I was clueless.

To talk. He said no more.

It was intimidating to be in front of some of the strongest Jedis in the Star Wars universe. They all eyed me like I was something to be feared, something to be watched and kept on a five foot long leash. And I felt vulnerable and scared, my shoulders still boring that sickly smelling hospital gown.

Each had their own datapad, all except for Master Yoda. They asked questions, simple at first, almost the same things Obi Wan had asked me earlier, and then they started asking me things that required more complicated answers. Sometimes I would only give half answers, sometimes I would give no answers at all. But I would not lie. It would be pointless if I did.

They came to a verdict at the end of it all. I would be assigned a clone force, I wasn’t told which, but I had my suspicions. I would be watched, listened to, examined and picked apart at.

“Honest, you have not.” Yoda told me. Those were the first words I heard in a language I actually knew. “Find out, we will.”

I was put in a nice room in the Jedi Temple, but it lacked the warmth of a well lived home. Everything was white, the sun shined in, bouncing off the walls and encompassing my room in this bright glow. I hated it. The bed was comfortable, but it didn’t compare to my room back at the college. There were nice clothes in the closet. I could tell they were put there just this day. It reminded me of what Senator Amidala was so often seen wearing in the show. I would hardly compare even if I dressed in the fine and flowy silks.

I’d fallen asleep feeling exhausted emotionally. But deep down, somewhere in that small part of me that was actually excited to be here, I wished that whoever I was put with, I hoped it was the rowdy bunch known as The Bad Batch.

[argothiathedreamer]

One line, any fic

tagged by @bakageta

Rules: Pick any 10 of your fics and scroll somewhere in the midpoint, pick a line, and share it! Then tag 10 people!

I tag whoever wants to be tagged!

I think I will also be doing WIPs and finished fics, especially since the vast majority of my fics are WIPs lol.

-

Auguries (BatFam), Chapter 1: He doesn't jump when fingers entwine with his and a slight weight leans against his shoulder. She doesn't speak, just stands there beside him. A warm presence in the cold.

The Myth of the Bat Part 1 (Batman Mythos series) (Batman fandom) (WIP): Some day, on Gotham's darkest night, when smog and the earth blots out the moon, Vicki is going to strangle Roger with his own stupid necktie.

But You Could Hide Beside Me Maybe For A While (FMA): Opening his eyes Ed tilts his head to look at Ling, finding him looking back. There’s no goofy smile on Ling’s face and Ed takes in again how that makes him seem so much more stern than he is. Still Ed kind of likes this look on Ling better than the goofy grins. This is the real Ling after all and Ling trusts Ed enough to show it to him.

Still Breathing (Rewrite) (BatFam) (WIP): More than anything Dick wishes he could just erase every nasty thing he ever said to the kid and start over from the very beginning. So that right now he could feel like he’d have the right to tell the kid he looks like shit when he wakes up and know that he and Jason could laugh about it. As it stands he knows that it’d just sound like another unfair criticism in a long long line of them.

Terminal Pun Disease (BatFam): Jason grimaces. “If you mean the latest additions to my ‘that’s gonna hurt like a bitch tomorrow’ list, they’ll mend. The case of compulsive pun disease I contracted from a certain someone way back when though, I’m afraid that’s terminal. One day it will absolutely be the death of me.”

We’ll Be Carrying Each Other (BatFam) (WIP): Despite all their arguments and everything Drake represents, Damian does not actually want him dead anymore. He blames Grayson for this. It certainly has nothing to do with Drake's winning personality.

Literal Drake (BatFam): Damian snarls right back at Tim like he thinks his display has anywhere near the same impact and that’s just adorable. Well, it would be, if he weren’t goading an actual dragon directly after Jason just prevented him from getting crispy-fried. Some gratitude. “Pathetic as usual, Drake. Even in a form where you have all the power you defer to Todd of all people! Shamef--”

Heavens Doors, Hell’s Gates (BatFam) (WIP): Hood chuckles, which sounds infinitely creepier through the voice modulator. “Yes, I do. Because you’re not stupid, Robin. You know how dangerous I am and exactly why I should terrify you. Now I suggest you use some of that self preservation instinct I hope Batman drilled into you and remember to stay far away from me. I might not be in so merciful a mood next time, little bird.”

Bad Influence (BatFam): “Well, you see, it’s very simple…” Jason eats the chip he fished from the bowl before continuing, “Fuck you. Fuck you is how.”

Rescue (BatFam) (WIP): “Ow.” Jason grumbles as he bangs his knee on the corner of the vent he's managed to crawl into. He really really hates being so damn huge sometimes. When he was a kid he could have crawled through spaces smaller than this one no problem. Now it's like stuffing an elephant in a horse trailer and this is the biggest vent in the entire place. Replacement owes him big time for this shit.

[moveslikejaggeria]

im very tired, tumblr dot com. im just very much exhausted. i think about how much i wanted to die just a few weeks ago and how happy i am now. but also,,, how i was right. happiness always comes in such fleeting moments. it sucks. the river is smaller, my dear friends, much easier to cross these days. but it doesnt mean its not still there.

i stopped seeing my therapist. and dietician. neither of them really reached out. fair enough. i think we were just dancing around the inevitable. i am therapist-proof: i repel them. its something about me that just pushes them away. its the me-ness.

i want a family so badly. all my friends are dating!! this sucks!! im so happy for them but wheres MY lover dearest. i hate dating apps though, im done with them. i gotta Know someone to date them and thats so hard over dating apps. alas

im so tired. not so much that its reached my bones, but its definitely deep in my muscles. i went and got a massage. it sucked and was expensive. now im sitting in the shower avoiding going to sleep bc as soon as i do tomorrow has to start. bleh

keep this to yourself porn bots but there was this person i really liked last year and god i was pretty infatuated but theyre not single so i had to get over it but sometimes i still have dreams with them in it and its kinda weird. like ik i cant control my dreams but it Feels manipulative to be in a situation where they are at my brains will. even i wont conform to that. plus then i wake up and the bed’s a little colder. alas

the loneliness is so deep in my bones i dont think itll ever leave, like a tumor they cant remove and you just kinda have to live with it and accept your fate. like a constant reminder that youre not normal or healthy and you never will or can be.

UGH i have TWO (2) meetings tomorrow. one of which is gonna SUCK bc i just have to sit there and be silent. i used to be really good at being silent. im twinning with mae from avatar lol.

i wish i lived in fiction. i wish i lived in a story that the author had all planned out and they had this nice little ending planned where everything was gonna finally be okay and id be happy. i think im trapped in a not-happy ending story. where the author tortures their characters relentlessly

how far away is labor day? i think labor day i’ll clean my apartment and finish moving in. maybe i’ll invite some friends over to keep me company, maybe not. maybe they will be busy or not want to. idk

not even a full week of school and im done. BLEH. i wish my therapist had put up more of a fight. or i had a better therapist. but then i wouldnt be talking to you, tumblr dot com! or maybe i still would. thats the question

there are two kind of depressed people: the ones who write happy endings for characters and imagine themselves AS the character to feel whole and those who torture their characters out of catharsis or to not feel so alone. so i suppose this is all karma for my fictional characters. do you think if i become the former life would be better?

OH tumblr dot com, i know you hate the tiky toky app, but they told me i was gonna find a partner this year! oh can you believe it! and if i listened to this one sound and manifested, i would be rich. oh tumblr dot com, can you imagine? someone to just hold and be held by? someone who you can lay your head against and listen to their heartbeat? someone you can trust with your whole you? oh tumblr dot com, how i do love to go on…

one last thing before i let you continue scrolling, mr porn bot. the happiest day of my life that i can remember is that one saturday last semester. i went to the arcade/golf course/gokart place place with my friends and we spent the day there and then we came home and i got to meet lewberger and see them perform and oh! the day before when i got my picture taken with stinger and got ice cream and knew random facts about greys anatomy and oh,,, to be young again. to live in those moments and just be happy. for that fleeting moment

[mcyt-agere]

Take a Break

CG!Dream x Little!f!Reader (Roommate!Sapnap)

Warnings: Involuntary Regression

Notes: First imagine :)

---------

You stare down at the laptop sitting on your lap, but nothing seems to be making sense.

Finals week starts tomorrow, and you know you're not ready enough for all of the tests.

You've only managed to go over one of the study guides so far, and you really wished you wouldn't have started so late.

Your boyfriend and his roommate are both asleep as far as you know, so you know you can't break down now.

Attempting to wipe away your tears with your hand, you sniffle as you try to re-focus on your laptop.

All of the definitions and long questions make your head hurt.

"y/n?", you hear your name being called from behind you.

Glancing behind you, you see your boyfriend rubbing at his eyes.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you.", you mumble, scrolling down a little bit on the assignment.

"You didn't. Why are you up?", one of his hands rests on your shoulder, lightly squeezing as he tries to figure out what you're doing.

"Studying for finals.", you tilt your computer the slightest bit to show him.

You haven't completed a new problem in about half an hour, and you know you're not being productive.

Dream can tell you're putting yourself under a lot of stress, and he knows the best way he can help.

He knows you've been up most of the night, and he can tell you need a break.

"How about we take a break, baby?"

Your heart flutters at the name, but you shake your head.

You can't be small; you have too much work to do.

Dream knows you haven't been little in a couple of weeks, so it's bound to happen sooner than later.

He runs one of his hands through your hair, his fingers lightly massaging your scalp.

"Do you want to go take a nap? Maybe watch some cartoons?", your boyfriend suggests.

You try to fight it as much as you can, but the familiar light feeling in your head is beginning to become overwhelming.

"You don't have to stay big, baby. You're safe, I promise. Just for a short while, okay?", he gently spins your chair around until you're facing him.

You lean forward into his arms, tears falling down your cheeks.

"Hey, it's okay. I've got you.", he coos, still trying to coax you into regressing.

Your cries get progressively quieter, and before he knows it, you're squirming in his arms.

When you pull away, he sees that familiar sparkle in your eyes.

Thank God, it worked.

"There's my precious baby girl.", he coos, gently tickling at your sides.

When you giggle, he breaks into a giant grin.

"How old are you today, sweetheart?"

He knows you love the various names he gives you, so he tries to use them as much as he can.

You hold up two fingers, the thumb of your other hand in your mouth.

"Ah, ah. Not the thumb.", Dream reminds you.

He pulls away, but you cling onto him tightly.

"I'm just going to get your bear and a paci, okay? I'll be right back.", he tries to reason with you.

You pout, but you release your grip on him anyway.

Your eyes well up with tears again after he's gone for longer than you thought he would be, and you start sniffling again.

"Hey, y/n-oh. Hi, sweet girl.", Sapnap kneels down in front of you, still sitting in your desk chair.

"Daddy...", you whimper, wanting Dream to come back.

"Let's go find him.", Sapnap turns around, letting you climb on his back.

The two of you finally locate Dream in the living room where's he has set up all of your little gear.

There's a bunch of fluffy blankets, your favorite bear, some coloring books with crayons, and a variety of snacks and drinks set out around the couch with the tv playing your favorite comfort show.

Dream seems a little surprised to see Sapnap carrying you into the room.

"Someone missed you.", Sapnap laughs as you let out a small "mhmm."

"Thanks.", Dream thanks his roommate as he gently sets you down on the couch.

"Have fun, kiddo.", Sapnap hands you your bear before leaving towards his office.

Dream sits next to you, pulling a blanket over your body.

"Here, daddy.", you whisper, holding up half of the blanket so he can get closer.

He sits directly next to you before pulling you into his lap.

Between the warmth of the blanket and the warmth radiating off of your boyfriend, you immediately get sleepy.

Dream notices, and he starts running a hand up and down your back.

You fall asleep quickly, the pacifier in your mouth drooping down.

Dream uses one finger to gently push it back into your mouth, loving how peaceful you look.

He's glad you were able to finally regress today, and he's happy he can be around to help.

[shyficwriter]

Temporary Home: Chapter 13

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!) Guest starring Nick Fury and Maria Hill

Summary: Seems like that visit had quite the effect on you, enough to send you on a semi-bender. Should they step in? Should they leave it alone? Furthermore, what secret accidentally gets leaked to Yondu while this happens?

Previous Chapter here | Next Chapter Here Or click here to: Start From Beginning

Author’s Note: Thank you to @allylin05 for the scene suggestion (where Reader couldn't reach something!) And thank you to all the others who have suggested scenes they’d like to see in this series! (I’m still working them in!) As always, if you have a cute little scene you'd like to see in this story, feel free to send me a request! It might take me a bit to work certain things in, but I’ll try to add as many as I can! Also, for my records this chapter ends on day 21 of the Guardians living with reader.

Word Count: 5,635

The guardians were getting concerned.

This was different from the other times you'd get sulky and avoid the others. Ever since that night that the couple came to the house, you had barely said a word. All you did was curl up in your room, and when you weren't doing that you were drinking.

They tried a couple times to pull you out of it, to no avail.

For instance, they had decided to begin sparring practice again after Fury's last visit. Two weeks was enough of a break, and they couldn't just sit around going soft while they waited for the negotiations to finish. If they ever did. The first couple times you had refereed for them, seeing as you couldn't join in the actual sparring with your arm injured, but each time they tried asking if you'd like to ref again after the night the couple came, you had refused, not even looking at them as you lay staring at the ceiling or curled on your good side.

Mantis tried using her abilities on you, like she did to make you feel better when Fury punished you, but you barely let anyone near you, and you certainly wouldn't allow anyone to touch you. You either pulled away or sternly told the offender to leave you alone, or in Peter's case, when he got the 'brilliant' idea one morning in the kitchen that you might cheer up if he tried tickling you, a swift knee to the crotch.

Either way, Mantis knew better than to push it. She had a feeling it wouldn't work this time anyway. The effects of her abilities were only temporary, it wasn't a cure. She can ease sadness away for a little while, and if someone was just a little sad they might still feel better even after the effect wore off, but if that sadness was too deep it would only wash back in once the person was no longer subject to the effects of her abilities.

A few times you could be heard walking around the attic, and a couple of those times sounds could be heard like you were throwing things across the room. One of these times one of the gang finally got the courage to go check on you, but they found you had locked the door behind you.

It seemed the "attic is off limits" rule still applied even when you were up there.

This annoyed Rocket, who had been reminded by this recent development that he had never gotten around to sneaking up there to prove to Groot that there were no monsters up there. The fact that you had been throwing stuff around up there didn't help that matter, only convincing the little guy that the noises were in fact coming from the monsters. After a few times of this he angrily went into your room, intent on getting the key and going up there to yell at you for scaring Groot, only to be disappointed to find that the key was no longer in the drawer and annoyed with himself that he wouldn't have thought that you'd have taken it up with you.

The third day of this Gamora pulled Peter aside. They knew Fury would be coming the next day, and she didn't know if telling them would only make matters worse. Did they tell, or stay out of it? Unfortunately Peter didn't have the answer either, he only hoped that'd you'd sober up by tomorrow. He didn't know what was going on with you, but he'd hate to see you possibly get into more trouble with SHIELD because of it.

There was also a bit of a selfish concern for them as well. What if Fury decided you were unfit to look after them and keep them hidden? Would SHIELD remove them from your responsibility and need to split the team up to hide them?

Later that night you left your room and headed to the cellar to pull yet another bottle of whiskey up and take it into the kitchen. No one was in there, just as you hoped. Unfortunately that didn't last forever.

You were mindlessly scrolling tumblr on your phone when Yondu sat down in the seat next to you at the table.

"Mind if we join ya?" he asked.

You glance up to see Kraglin had also sat down, and you wordlessly scoot the bottle in their direction to indicate you didn't care and went back to scrolling and sipping from your own glass.

"So how long are ya planning on taking this bender?" Yondu asked.

You glance up with narrowed eyes and as if to spite him grabbed for the bottle again to top off your glass before putting it back.

Yondu looked displeased. "That ain't an answer." he said cooly.

"Best you're gonna get," you say, slurring a bit.

Yondu leaned back in his chair with an expression Kraglin recognized. It was the same one he used to wear when someone thought they could get away with mouthing off to him. The look of mild bemusement that usually preceded a whistle or a scolding. Only this time he didn't do either.

"Why don't ya tell us what's eating you?"

Your eyes flicked up but you didn't answer. You didn't want to talk. You were sleepy. It was none of his business anyway. What came out was an elegant, "Nothing... your face." This was followed by your also very elegant flipping of the bird before you reached for your glass again.

Yondu, seeing you were clearly past drunk, got to it first, sliding it out of your reach. "I think you've had enough, little lady."

You pout at him. "Give that back."

"No." he responded flatly.

"Dick," you mumble, lowering your head to rest on your good arm on the table.

"Yeah, sit there and pout. That's gonna help." Yondu snarked.

You didn't answer.

"Hey, I'm talkin' to you, pipsqueak." Yondu scolded, sort of hoping that the childish name would get a rise out of you.

No answer.

"You think she passed out?" asked Kraglin.

Yondu reached over to grab your wrist, intent to do the whole lift and drop thing to see how out you were, but you only whined on contact and swatted him away, mumbling something about sleep.

"That answer yer question?"

Kraglin shrugged before nodding to the bottle. "I'm gonna get a glass, want one?"

Yondu nodded, not taking his eyes off you until Kraglin came back with a couple glasses and poured the two of them a drink. Something was definitely eating at you, and the way you were dealing with it just wasn't healthy. Even as a Ravager he still knew that. Sure, it hadn't stopped him from going on a few of his own benders over the years, but it didn't mean he had to just watch someone else go through one. Unfortunately he had no solution. Closest he had to one was cutting you off, which he'd already done, and getting you to talk about it, which you wouldn't, and if you were unwilling then there wasn't a whole lot more he could do.

He and Kraglin sat there for a bit, sipping their drinks and killing time with idle chit-chat. They could hear a movie playing loudly from the sitting room. Probably something from that Netflix Rocket had turned on. No matter. Didn't bother them any. Clearly wasn't disturbing you as you slept at the table.

That is, until the sounds of a crying baby sounded from the film.

Yondu noticed you groggily sit up and rub your eyes. You lightly smacked his arm and, still half asleep, mumbled out, "You fetch the baby, I'll make the bottle, ok?" With that you pat him on the shoulder as you sleepily went to stand.

Yondu's eyes widened in a mix of shock and confusion. He shared a quick look with Kraglin. He had heard it too and his face shared the same sentiments. Baby? There wasn't any baby to fetch??

Before you could stumble away to prepare a bottle he was sure didn't exist, Yondu grabbed your good arm to stop you. "Hey there, where ya think yer goin'?" he said, his eyebrows knitted together. He really hoped this was just some sort of drunken sleepwalker dream on your part, and not you acting on some instinct he was sure there'd only be one way for you to have had. He tried gently shaking you.

You blinked a few times, finally seeming to wake up enough to remember where you were and who you were with, who had hold of your arm.

You didn't see your loved one's face, as you expected. Instead you saw a blurry blue that focused just enough into Yondu. You did still, however, hear the cry of a baby; but it wasn't- you knew it couldn't-

Yondu saw how you looked up and realized the sound, and how your expression changed from sleepy and confused to downright anguished. Your lip quivered and his eyes widened. 'No no no, none of that!' he thought, realizing you were starting to tear up.

You pulled your arm away and covered your mouth, turning so you wouldn't face him as pain tore at your drunken heart.

Yondu stood and caught you by the shoulders, spinning you towards the door at the far end of the kitchen, saying, "I think it's time fer bed! Someone's had a lil' too much t'night." He tried to keep his tone light-hearted, but he shot a glance back to Kraglin as he walked you out of the room. They didn't need words to convey what they were thinking. It seemed they might have just become privy to a bit of painful information you hadn't meant to share.

Yondu guided you up the stairs to your room, all the while he could hear you sniffing.

The clumsy opening of your door startled Mantis awake. She sat up and rubbed her eyes to see Yondu guiding a teary-eyed you into the room.

"Back to sleep, Bug." Yondu said. "Nuttin' to see here. She just had a little too much whiskey.

Mantis ignored him and stood from her bed, approaching the two of you as he tried to persuade you into sitting on the bed. Of course, being drunk and upset you weren't exactly very compliant. You kept trying to walk towards the attic door, much to Yondu's dismay and annoyance as he kept trying to tell you you needed to sleep it off.

Mantis watched the scene and knew what she needed to do. Before Yondu could say anything she had already reached out to your forehead and whispered, "Sleep."

Problem was you were a couple feet away from the bed and you fell backwards into into Yondu, who's arms shot out to catch your dead weight just in time with an 'Oof!' He sighed and maneuvered your now unconscious form to your bed, saying, "Ya couldn't have waited to do that until she was closer to the bed?" He wasn't angry, but a slight annoyance still coated his words.

Mantis twiddled her fingers sheepishly. "I'm sorry."

Yondu stood, having managed to lay you flat on top of the bed. "It's fine, Bug. I know you was only tryin' to help."

"Is she going to be ok?" Mantis asked. "That's the third time I've had to do that in as many days."

Yondu raised an eyebrow. "What's that?"

"At night, when she doesn't think anyone can hear her, she cries. It started after that couple came and said those things to her through the door. I put her to sleep so she doesn't cry." Mantis walked over to your sleeping form and placed her hand on your forehead. Her antennae glowed and she described to Yondu what she read from you. "Her heart aches. She's angry, she's sad, but mostly she mourns."

Yondu swallows. Remembering what had just happened downstairs, another memory came to him. That night under your tree in the forest. He had said something about you maybe settling down and having a few little ankle-biters and then you... oh no. He had a suspicion that he knew what you mourned, and the thought made his heart clench. He still didn't know how that couple showing up might have triggered this pain in you, but if what he suspected from the pieces he could put together was true, then that was a hell of a loss, and it helped explain to him a little bit why you were the way you were. You were in pain.

Before Mantis could say more he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Let's let her rest now, Bug."

***

You woke up earlier in the morning than you would have liked. You could blame it on your throat being dry as sand, the dull ache in your temples, and the feeling like your bladder was in a vice. Oh, the 'joys' of the morning after a night of drinking. Not nearly as fun as the drinking itself. Though, you were sure 'fun' wasn't exactly what you had had last night, even though you couldn't quite remember it.

No matter. Time to shower and get yourself presentable. Fury would be coming today for one of his weekly-check-ins and it'd be unprofessional to greet him wearing last nights clothes and possibly still smelling of alcohol.

Today you had a chance of being told you no longer needed the sling, so you tried to at least be happy for that as you gathered a change of clothes for your shower and thanked whatever higher-being that might be listening that the bathroom was free.

***

Fury showed up about mid-morning with the same doctor as last time.

You pretended to be a good little soldier and sat patiently as the doctor examined you, said you were free to remove the strap from your brace, and adjusted the hinge on your brace for the limited range of motion he would allow your elbow to move while it was still healing. You were given some therapy exercises to do and informed you were still under a weight restriction for that arm.

The first thing you did was utilize the full range of this new, albeit limited, range of motion, stretching your fingers and wincing as you tried to work a bit of the stiffness out.

Before the doctor had begun examining, Gamora quietly asked to speak with Agent Hill alone. They left the kitchen to speak in the hall mostly unnoticed.

"She took the brace off, didn't she?" Agent Hill assumed. "Knew it. She's so damn stubborn!"

Gamora shoot her head. "No, no. That's actually not it. It's something else."

"Really?" Agent Hill looked surprised.

"Yes. She followed all of Fury's orders. It's about something that happened the other day. This couple came to the house-"

Maria looked alarmed. "Did they see any of you? If you were compromised you shouldn't have waited this long to tell us."

"No, it wasn't anything like that" Gamora said, slightly frustrated with the interruptions. She explained that you seemed to know them, how you had closed all the curtains and shut off the lights just before they arrived and pretended not to be home. She told her how they had spoken to you through the door, and that you had been upset and closed off ever since.

Maria frowned. "Do you know what they looked like? What they said?"

Gamora shook her head. "I never saw them, but they said something about how something wasn't her fault, that they forgave her? I don't know what they were talking about, she wouldn't say, but she's hardly left her room since then and we're just a bit concerned and thought we should tell somebody."

Maria nodded. "I'll speak with her."

Gamora nodded in return. She got the feeling that Maria knew the significance of the couple's arrival, but wasn't going to say, so she didn't ask.

They returned to the kitchen just as the doctor was finished. Agent Hill requested to have a word with you in private while Fury briefed the Guardians on the lack of update on their situation.

You rose an eyebrow at her, but obeyed, and the two of you made your way out to the front garden.

Maria spoke first. "How long have we worked together?"

"Almost since I first started, you helped train me. Why?"

"And we've come to know each other decently well in that time, yes?"

You look at her, confused. "Yeah? What is this about?"

"You know you can talk to me, right? If something's wrong?"

"I don't need to talk-"

Maria rolled her eyes. "Oh yes. Ms independent. Ms 'I don't need anyone.' I get it. I do. But maybe letting people in every once in awhile couldn't hurt."

"Are you going to tell me what this is about or not?" you say irritably.

"One of your charges has expressed concerns."

You looked confused and surprised. "Who? Why?"

"Doesn't matter. And they told me that you had a couple visitors the other day. My informant didn't know who they were, of course, but I have a pretty good idea, especially after I was told what they said to you."

You look off towards the road bitterly.

"Would you like to talk about it?" Maria asked.

Your gaze shifted from her to the ground and back a couple times. Finally you relented. "They said they forgave me. What am I supposed to do with that?" Your gaze was hard as you looked into her eyes.

"Accept it?" Maria said with almost a laugh, her eyebrows knitted together. "Maybe take a page out of their book and try to forgive yourself?"

"But it was my fault," you respond.

Maria can see the pain in your eyes. Her eyes soften. "It wasn't, though. It wasn't your fault. You have to understand that."

"No, you don't understand," you say, pain present in your voice. "Put yourself in my shoes. Tell me, that if it was you, that you wouldn't believe it was your fault then!"

Maria didn't answer.

"That's what I thought."

"Look, I have the ability to see reason because I'm not in your shoes. I can see that it wasn't your fault. You can't hold yourself accountable for what other people have done to you."

You give her a hard look but don't respond. After a few moments you see Fury come out the front door with the doctor and you finally say to her, "Are we done?"

She follows your gaze to see Fury before turning back to you. You can tell she wants to say no, but she settles for, "I suppose. For now."

The two of you walk back towards the front door to meet Fury. He tells you that he's pleased to see you followed orders, but to make no mistake, he still has Gamora looking out to make sure to follow through with the doctor's orders until your arm is healed, or until he can trust you no longer need that type of supervision. Whichever comes first.

You begrudgingly nod and they leave, you heading back inside.

***

You had decided to not confront them about who told Maria about the couple. If she was right, and they really were just concerned, then you decided it was better to just not make them concerned anymore. No concerned Guardians, no one getting SHIELD involved with your personal life.

You decided to not head back to your room after Fury and Agent Hill left, rightfully convinced that it had been how you more or less hid away for three days that alarmed them. Probably the drinking too, but jury was out if you'd stop that or not. What were they going to do? Stop you?

Actually... you did have a faint memory of Yondu pulling your drink away from you last night... Oh well. You were sure they wouldn't do it again, but that was a question for later. Now, you were going to go check your neglected garden.

Only, when you got there, you found it wasn't nearly as neglected-looking as it ought to be considering you hadn't visited it in over a week. You cocked your head and raised an eyebrow. Who had kept it?

On cue, Kraglin spoke up behind you. "Um, hey."

You turn to face him.

"Hope ya don't mind. Kinda kept it nice for ya, while you were- you know..."

You were taken aback. "Oh- um. Thank you. You didn't have to-"

"I know." Kraglin said, rubbing the back of his head. "Back before we- Yondu an' me- joined Pete's team we were on a lot bigger ship. Lotta crew. We had an areas for growin' food on board, helped keep fresh stuff around so people didn't get sick. Anyways- used have to shifts in those areas some when I was younger. Still remembered how to do most of it. Figured I should make myself useful when you couldn't do it- Ya know, something to do."

You glance back at the garden. "I guess, um, if you like it, I could let you help me next time, if you want, then," you reply awkwardly. "You did a nice job- thanks."

Kraglin smiled a bit. "Sure thing. Beats sitting around."

You crack a smile at that and look to the ground briefly. "Well I guess I'll find something else to do now, since this is done." With that you walked past him and back into the house.

You get back inside to a commotion in the kitchen.

Mantis is crying and panting and fanning her mouth, Gamora is yelling at Rocket, and Rocket is laughing his ass off.

"What's going on here?" you ask, brow furrowed in confusion and concern.

"Rocket tricked Mantis into eating these," she showed you the jar of jalapeños, "and now she's in pain."

You sigh and glare at Rocket, who didn't look sorry at all. You guide Mantis to sit at the table and pour her a glass of milk, instructing her to drink it slow like you had Yondu when he ate them and informing her that it would help. At least you knew she didn't react to milk the same way he did. Gamora asked to make sure Rocket hadn't fed Mantis poison, but you assured her she'd be fine. It was food, just not something any of them were used to apparently.

Kraglin re-entered the house just then and took in the scene. A teary eyed Mantis sat at the table sipping some milk, and you stood behind her, rubbing a hand up and down her back comfortingly, yours and Gamora's eyes both shooting daggers at Rocket, who was still grinning.

You begin to scold Rocket. "What's wrong with you? I know you did that on purpose."

"You don't know that, how was I supposed to know she wouldn't like them."

Kraglin's eyes narrowed. He spoke up. "Now if I'd known you was gonna use them to be mean to Mantis there, I wouldn't have told ya when you asked me which was the hot things Yondu ate. She's too sweet for you to be mean to her like that."

Rocket gave Kraglin a look of betrayal. "Come on. It was just a joke. Did you really think I was asking because I wanted to eat them."

"I thought you was asking so you wouldn't eat them," Kraglin replied, annoyed. "not so you'd make the bug girl cry."

Rocket rolled his eyes. "Lighten up."

"What's with you lately?" Gamora asked. "You're not even this bad on the ship. You behavior has definitely gotten worse since we've been here."

"Has not!" Rocket denied. "If anything you guys have lost your ability to take a joke!" He crossed his arms. "And how come nobody says anything when Star-Munch and dumbass there-" he pointed at Kraglin, "-mess around, but I always get yelled at! It's like I'm the only one not allowed to have fun here!"

You tilted your head at Rocket, contemplating a bit before saying, "Are you trying to say you're bored?"

Rocket threw up his hands. "Of course I'm freaking bored! What do you expect!? There's nothing to do! I can't blow anything up, or make any weapons, or make weapons that blow up! This place is like prison!"

You hummed and nodded your head. "I see..." You had an idea. You were normally against rewarding bad behavior, but you saw this more as an.. olive branch of sorts. Maybe if you gave him something to do he wouldn't be so restless. Wouldn't be so... rude. Give him a toy to play with, more or less. You nodded towards the back door. "Come here."

"Fat chance. Like I'd go anywhere with you." Rocket scowled, crossing his arms petulantly.

You shrugged your shoulders. "Fine by me. I won't show you the workshop then." A smile tugged at your lips but you suppressed it.

Rocket narrowed his eyes. "What workshop?"

"You already know I built you that bed. Where did you think I did that? The bathtub? It's in the shed."

Rocket eyed you, like he wasn't sure if he wanted to trust you or not. Gamora and Kraglin exchanged pleasantly surprised glances, intrigued that you were offering an olive brach of sorts to the bratty raccoon.

"Ok, but any funny stuff and I'll bite your good arm off." Rocket said, moving towards you in an almost cautious manner.

You roll your eyes. "There's no reason why there would be any 'funny stuff.'" you say. You start to turn towards the door, but stop. "Oh, one thing before we go. Apologize to Mantis."

Rocket glared at you. It was clear he didn't want to, but after a few moments he made an attempt. In a sarcastic tone he said, "Oh gee, Mantis, I'm SO sOrRy-"

You cut him off. "Like you mean it, or I don't show you the workshop."

Rocket grumbled something you couldn't hear under his breath before begrudgingly uttering a, "Sorry, Mantis."

Mantis, whose mouth was now much less burn-y than earlier, told Rocket she forgave him and you headed back outside with Rocket to see the workshop.

Kraglin and Gamora watched as you went, completely surprised that that had worked.

***

You led Rocket to the shed and unlocked it, opening the door and motioning inside. Rocket hesitated, but eventually entered after you took the first steps inside to turn on the light.

A workbench ran along the length of one side of the room. On it sat a chop-saw at one end, and a vice as well as a small cabinet of little drawers where you sorted your nails, screws, and other fastenings. Above this workbench ran a series of shelves housing various drills and tool boxes and other odd-n-ends. Under the bench laid an old forgotten and broken step-stool you had never gotten around to fixing.

A smaller workbench sat on the wall opposite side. Above that was a pegboard where you hung different wrenches and screwdrivers and hammers, and above that hung a short cupboard.

In the middle of the room stood a table saw, and behind that, at the back of the room, is what caught Rocket's eye most.

You had a welding station set up, and he immediately walked back towards it.

"I didn't know you had this in here!" Rocket exclaimed.

"You never asked," you reply, slightly grinning at his obvious interest in the welding area.

Rocket looked the area over. It was covered in a layer of dust, showing that it had been awhile since anyone had used it. "This still work?" he asked.

"It should," you say with a little uncertainty. "I haven't used it for years, but I'm sure the tank still has gas in it. We could always find out. I take it you know how to use it?"

Rocket looked back at you. "Of course I know how to use it. It's just basic fire welding, not like it's a plasma welder or anything."

You raise an eyebrow. Apparently he knew his stuff better than you thought... "Ok then. Just let me find the striker..." You looked around the welding bench, but didn't see it anywhere. "Hm... must have misplaced it... let me look."

You walk over to the small workbench, looking in the drawers, but came up empty handed. You check the drawers in the long workbench. Nothing. You looked up at the shelves. Nope, didn't see it. You walk back over to the small bench to look in the cupboard above it. No striker. "I know it's in here somewhere." you sighed, looking up at the ceiling.

Then you see it. The edge of the striker glinting from on top of the cupboard. "Damn," you say, your gaze falling to the floor before returning to the striker.

You reach up in vain, knowing you couldn't reach it from the ground, even on your tip-toes.

"Need some help, shorty?" came Rocket's teasing voice. You obviously weren't short compared to him, but it didn't matter. You could have been seven feet tall and he still would have used the jab.

You throw him a look. "Like you're one to talk! And no." You try reaching again and sigh.

"Don't you have a chair or something to stand on?" He was chuckling at you now.

"No." you admit, gesturing to the broken stool under the other workbench. "Never got around to fixing it. Normally I just-" you cut yourself off as you tried to reach up again.

"Just what?"

You sigh. "Climb. Ok? Normally I'd just climb up there, but um," you gesture with your arm in the brace, "kinda can't do that right now." You try reaching again, but you give up. That tactic was obviously never going to work. You look around. "Maybe I can find something to knock it down..."

As you look around you see from the corner of your eye Rocket make a couple jumps to get on top of the cabinet, where he then grabbed the striker and hopped back down onto the workbench and held it out to you with a cheeky grin.

You exhale out your nose as you take the striker and say, "You could have done that this whole time?"

"Yeah," Rocket admitted. "but watching you struggle was funnier."

You ignored him and headed back towards the welding area. Yelling at him never seemed to do anything but encourage him anyway.

You attached a brazing tip to the line connected to the tank, turned on the gas, and clicked the striker up to the tip. It took a couple tries, but the flame finally caught with a whoosh and you laughed in surprise. "See. It works," you say to Rocket. "And as long as you don't burn the shed down or hurt yourself, you can use whichever tools you know how to use."

Rocket eyed you as you turned off the gas, extinguishing the flame. "What's the catch?"

"I just told you. Don't burn down the shed or get hurt." After half a second's thought you added with a slight grin, "Should I add 'don't break my tools' and 'lock up when you're done'?"

Rocket scoffed. "I'm not gonna break your tools. If anyone knows how to care for tools it's me! Hell, they'll probably be in better condition after I use them."

You shook your head in amusement. "Alright." Little guy could be so dramatic. "I know there's an extra key somewhere in the house, but until then you can use mine, ok?"

Rocket nodded but then asked, "Why keep it locked?"

You look out the open door. "Force of habit, mostly... keeps kids from getting in and hurting themselves too," you say, adding, "You know, like Groot. Wouldn't want him to go playing around the tools and getting hurt."

Rocket nodded again. He knew Groot mostly knew better from being with him not to play with tools, but he didn't argue.

"Anyway," you begin again, gesturing to the neat stacks of spare wood and metal material in the corner. "Knock yourself out." you placed your key to the shed on the small workbench. "Key's here. Lockup when you're done and leave the key on the kitchen counter after, ok?"

Rocket raised his eyebrow. "You're trusting me in here by myself?" he asked, sounding more suspicious than confused as you turned to leave.

You turn back to him, slightly grinning. "You said you know what you're doing, and I've already been told you used to work on the ships, so that claim has already been vouched for, so... yeah. Unless you're gonna give me a reason not to trust you, that is."

"No, that's all pretty much right," he said, eyeing you, still seeming unsure. As if he thought it might be a trap.

"Then we're good," you reply. You to leave again when you're stopped by him asking, "What's in this for you?" You didn't know whether to sigh or laugh, so you settled for a mix of both as you turn back yet again. "I figured maybe if you had something to keep you entertained maybe you'd be less of an insufferable asshole."

Rocket looked offended and you laughed. "Now can I leave or do you have anything else to ask?"

"Nah," he replied, taking his eyes off you to now look around the workshop. "We're good. Um... thanks..."

The 'thank you' honestly surprised you, but you only turned your look of surprise away as you exited the shed and said, "Don't mention it."

Rocket watched you leave before turning back to check out the welding bench some more.

Yes. This was just what he'd been needing. He could finally repair the device he smuggled.

[hxseok-honee]

atlas heart || part 37

a/n : uhm,,, so this was 20 pages long,,,, whoops -- hope you enjoy the pain!

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___________________________________

“Jimin… psst-- Jimin, wake up--”

“Wake up, motherfucker!” Jimin’s eyes fly open right before he’s shutting them again, unable to cover his face in time to block the throw pillow that’s being launched at him. It falls to his lap when he sits up, and Jungkook chuckles in the doorway.

“Y/n’s been in here for fifteen minutes, trying to be nice and soft about waking you up, but you sleep like the dead. We’re gonna miss our ride at this rate.” Jimin blinks the sleep from his eyes as he focuses in on the girl that’s kneeling next to him on the bed. She’s nodding along as Jungkook speaks, and even in his half-awake state, Jimin finds her insufferably cute. He also notices that she’s fully dressed and seemingly ready to leave, her backpack by the door.

“What time is it?” His voice is groggy, but the yell he lets out when Hoseok appears suddenly at the door, disheveled and angry, is crystal clear. It looks like the Slytherin’s also just woken up, which is bad news for someone who’s yet to see Hoseok’s infamous ‘morning temper’.

“It’s almost 4:30 in the fucking morning, that’s what time it is. Our ride gets here at 5 -- I’m leaving whether you’re ready or not.” He disappears then, dragging a fearful Jungkook with him back to their room to pack their bags. Y/n turns from the doorway, settling back on her heels as she chuckles awkwardly.

“He’s just really excited to see Yoongi…”

--

When a minivan fit for a soccer mom with 4 kids screeches to a halt in front of the house, Jimin has to rub at his eyes to make sure he’s seeing things correctly. At the wheel sits Jin, an alarming amount of excitement in his eyes as he chugs coffee from what’s less of a cup and more of a vase with a lid. In the passenger’s seat is Namjoon, clinging to his seatbelt for dear life, and behind him are Taehyung and Yoongi, the Slytherin scooting into the middle so Jungkook can pull the end seat down and squeeze into the back row.

He waves Y/n in, and she pulls a stunned Jimin into the back with them. When the end seat locks back into place, Hoseok is throwing himself into it, wrapping himself around Yoongi once the door is closed. His boyfriend smiles with contentment, and even half-asleep, Jimin can appreciate the quiet happiness they share.

Jin slams his concerningly large coffee cup, now empty, down into the middle console and lets out a roar of energy.

“Next stop, Quidditch World Cup!” Pressing down on the gas hard enough that Y/n actually feels the tires squeal against the pavement before starting to turn, Jin takes off, rounding the rest of the massive courtyard before flying back down the winding driveway. Her hand reaches for Jimin’s on instinct, and if she wasn’t squeezing so hard, he might have blushed.

“What’re the chances of us dying before we even get there?” Jimin chuckles at her question, cutting himself short when the car slides into traffic much too recklessly, so he just hums.

“Probably much higher than you want me to admit--”

“Hey, who has my road snacks? I’ve got such a hankering for one of those cinnamon roll thingies--” Jin reaches blindly back into the middle row, searching for the bag of food on Taehyung’s lap.

“Both hands on the wheel!” It seems the entire car’s in agreement, because Jin just returns to his previous position, a small whine leaving him.

“Alright, alright, you big babies. Namjoon -- feed me, buddy.” The Ravenclaw groans loudly, and for a moment Jimin can’t believe he’d missed all these idiots while he was away.

--

When Jin pulls into the campground for the World Cup, they’re all gasping as they take in the scene around them. The arena’s unbelievably massive, towering over them in the distance. The sea of people is endless, crowded beyond belief with spectators and traveling merchants preparing for tomorrow’s match. Following Yoongi’s directions until they manage to find the plot of land his parents had reserved for them, Jin pulls off into the treeline and puts the car in park.

The group stumbles from the vehicle, groaning and stretching, shaking off the anxiety of entrusting Jin with their lives for hours. It’s a little past 11am, enough time for them to set up before lunch. Y/n follows Jimin into the spacious area, admiring the excited chaos of the enormous campground around them. She can hear Jin mumbling a spell under his breath to shrink the car and put it in his pocket, followed almost immediately by Jungkook excitedly asking if he can 'do that with a house -- or Hogwarts!'

Jimin takes her hand, and for a second, she thinks that maybe he’s making a move on her, something that leaves her embarrassingly hopeful. But all he does is pull her close to him, pointing at Yoongi with his other hand. The Slytherin is pulling a tiny tent out of his own pocket and setting it on the ground in the middle of their plot of land. Y/n doesn’t even see Yoongi utter a spell before the tent is growing to full size, and she can only imagine that the inside has been bewitched to fit all 8 of them -- something else that Yoongi’s done without speaking.

“Nonverbal magic?” It slips out without her thinking, and Yoongi hears it, glancing at her and becoming visibly shy under her curious gaze. He nods, pointing back at Hoseok, whose attention is caught trying to convince Jungkook not to try shrinking himself with Jin’s spell.

“We both know it -- most Slytherins do, actually… should I call it a defense mechanism? We don’t like to let people know what we’re thinking.”

“It’s pretty fascinating, if you think about it.” It comes from Namjoon, where he and Tae are unpacking not too far away. “Even in class, Yoongi would always practice nonverbally -- he’d get in trouble for it, too.” The Slytherin shrugs as if performing nonverbal magic isn’t difficult for most people unless the caster is under incredible distress.

“What can I say? A habit’s a habit. I haven’t used verbal magic in years -- it’s just more comfortable this way.” He ducks into the tent then, poking his head out and waving them in once he’s checked the quality of his adjustments to their living space for the next couple days.

They all head inside, Y/n looking around in awe when she sees just how big it is. There’s a section of bunk beds on the far side of the room, and the rest is filled with endlessly cozy spaces -- couches and cushions, corners piled high with blankets and pillows. There’s a small kitchenette in the corner, which Jin makes a beeline for in order to 'preserve his perishables'. Jimin shakes his head at the scene, always amused by the depth of the Hufflepuff’s stomach.

Jungkook pulls Y/n to one of the couches, where they collapse on it in a sibling pile that Jimin’s gotten used to seeing over the last 24 hours. It doesn’t stop the rest of the group (sans Hoseok, of course) from gawking at the pair, everyone unused to seeing the dynamic that’s been essentially nonexistent at Hogwarts. They don’t even notice, Y/n looking up at Jungkook with emotional eyes.

“I can’t believe I have friends to share this with.” She doesn’t realize the group is listening, and they all feel simultaneously touched and saddened by her words. Jungkook only ruffles her hair fondly.

“Get used to it, kid -- things are looking up for us.” It’s then that Jungkook happens to glance up, catching Taehyung’s gaze and seeing glossy tears in the boy’s eyes. Looking around, he notes that everyone’s got a similar expression, and he wonders what they must think of Y/n -- of the girl they don’t know enough about to understand her sentiments. He also wonders why they seem so moved by her words.

The awkward moment’s cut short by Namjoon clearing his throat. He points toward Jin, who’s standing by the fridge.

“We have enough food in there to feed us for a week, but Jin said it’s all ‘snacks’, so it looks like we have to go buy lunch.” Everyone nods, accepting that Jin would probably bite them before letting them into the kitchenette, and they start heading back out into the campground.

--

By the time night’s fallen, they’re all exhausted and a bit giddy. It’s almost 10, the effects of waking up at 4am weighing down on the group as they sit together in front of their tent. Hoseok and Yoongi had set up a small fire for them to gather around, Jimin playing music quietly from the small speaker Tae had packed as they talk amongst themselves.

Namjoon leans against a decently sized pile of rocks, reading quietly with the light from the fire. Y/n suspects he’s not actually reading, having caught his smile every time someone had cracked a lame joke, but she doesn’t call him on it. He looks peaceful there, in his quiet corner. Yoongi and Hoseok sit together on one side of the fire, whispering to each other and smiling about things only they know. Jungkook, Tae, and Jin are huddled, having a small argument about some of the merchandise being sold by the traveling shops that are set up around the campground.

Y/n sits with Jimin, watching the group and jokingly judging Jimin’s music taste as he scrolls through his phone. They’re sitting awfully close together, and Jimin thinks in the back of his mind that they must look about as cozy as Yoongi and Hoseok do -- that thought brings him much more joy than it should.

Despite the endless chatter and liveliness of the campground, the night starts to wind down, the sky clouding over in a way that makes it seem darker than it already is. It’s a perfectly good time for everyone to head to bed, but the chaotic trio has apparently decided to escalate their quarrel, the three of them jumping up at the same time.

“We’re going to check out some stuff -- it’s important!” Jungkook calls out to the rest of the group right before disappearing into the crowd with Jin and Tae. Namjoon promptly shuts his book, standing with a groan and heading in the direction they’d just gone. He offers them a shrug as an explanation.

“Someone needs to keep an eye on them.” He’s gone soon, leaving Jimin and Y/n to make awkward eye contact with Hoseok and Yoongi. Y/n locks eyes with Hoseok, and Jimin gets the strange feeling, from the way Hoseok’s eyes widen and then narrow suspiciously, that they’re communicating telepathically. The Slytherin shakes his head subtly, and then again a little more forcefully, before sighing heavily and rising to his feet. Holding his hand out, he helps Yoongi -- who looks as confused as Jimin feels -- to his feet before pointing noncommittally in the same direction their friends had gone.

“Apparently, I’m hungry enough to go searching for a snack, even though we have snacks in the tent.” Yoongi smirks at the clear annoyance in Hoseok’s voice, tugging him toward the crowd.

“Come on -- let’s go find a tree to make out under.” Immediately, Hoseok’s gaze becomes one of mischievous excitement, and he practically skips after the shorter boy into the distance. Jimin makes a noise of disgust, mirrored by Y/n’s expression.

Jimin only properly registers that they’re alone when his phone automatically starts playing a slower song -- rather, he properly registers that Y/n had asked Hoseok to leave them alone. Turning to her suddenly as if for an explanation, he finds that she’s staring into the fire with the intensity of someone who’s very socially awkward. He can’t help the breath of laughter that leaves him, one that becomes real laughter when she glares at him.

“You look like you just realized the consequences of your actions.” Her jaw drops, and she pushes at his shoulder, affronted.

“Sue me for wanting to spend time alone with you!” Immediately, she’s hiding her face in her hands, groaning. She wonders if maybe -- if she wishes for it enough -- the ground will just open up around her and swallow her whole. Her ears feel like they’re being set on fire when she hears Jimin’s laughter ringing through the air, and she hates that she loves the sound anyway.

“When are you just going to admit that you’re in love with me, Y/n? I promise I won’t laugh.” She mumbles something into her hands, and it sounds suspiciously like ‘you’re already laughing’. Jimin tugs at her wrist, dragging her out from her hiding spot and forcing her to look at him.

“How about we make a deal?” Y/n sends him another glare, but it’s her pout that catches his attention and drives him to the brink of insanity. “We can say it together -- count to three and admit how crazy we are about each other at the same time.” Y/n rolls her eyes and snatches her wrist from his hold, turning back to the fire, which has basically died down completely by now.

“Stop messing around, you big dork.” Jimin holds his hand to his chest and gasps.

“I have never been so serious about something in my life as I am about this.” He keeps talking, a dramatic monologue about his integrity, but something triggers the alarm bells in the back of her head -- the same alarm bells that have kept her alive up to this point -- and she’s immediately distracted.

Glancing around, she finds that nothing’s changed in their surroundings -- families and groups of friends still celebrate the start of the World Cup, the chaos of thousands of people in one place never-ending. But there’s something in the air, something that sets her nerves on edge. Looking up, she realizes that it’s gotten exceptionally dark, the clouds concentrating into one dense curtain in the sky, removing any sign that the stars had been there in the first place.

“Jimin, wait… this doesn’t feel right.” Realizing, based on the pained expression that fills Jimin’s face when she interrupts his secretly heartfelt rant, that she’s said the wrong thing at the wrong time, Y/n shakes her head quickly, motioning out into the distance. “I’m talking about this -- something’s off.” She ignores Jimin’s lingering eyes on her when she stands from her spot on the ground, looking to the treeline and taking in their surroundings. He joins her when he gets a clear look at her face and sees how urgent her gaze is.

The breeze is gone, leaving her with the taste of stale smoke in her lungs, the air still foggy from the bonfire. It seems the sense of freedom had left with the boys, since all she can feel is an invisible weight coming down on her chest -- something coming for her.

And come it does, in Jimin’s frozen form and horrified gaze, staring straight over Y/n’s shoulder into the sky behind her. Whipping around, terrified about what she might find, she’s stepping backwards and colliding with Jimin’s chest before she can even register what she’s seeing. The clouds have darkened considerably and are moving of their own accord, twisting and turning as they take shape in the sky. Jimin begins to shake uncontrollably as the storm clouds become one, revealing the skull with the open jaw, a massive snake emerging from within and wrapping itself cleanly around the top.

“That’s-”

“Guys!”

“Jimin, Y/n-”

“We’re so fucked!” The rest of the group comes crashing into the space in panicked chaos, tearing through their campsite with thinly veiled terror. Taehyung and Namjoon make a beeline for their tent as the sounds of pained screams start to filter in, replacing the comfortable memories of the bonfire with something much darker. Yoongi stands near the fire pit, turning in circles and pulling at his hair desperately as he realizes where they are.

“This isn’t -- this tent, it’s in the middle of --” He stops, breathing hard, hands still buried in his hair as the thought finally hits. “My parents put us in the middle of Slytherin territory.”

Jin comes in behind everyone else, firing curses over his shoulder as he calls out to the group, scanning their faces and doing a mental headcount.

“We need to get out of here -- the muggleborns should go first.” He locks eyes with Namjoon as the older Ravenclaw exits the tent carrying a bag. Namjoon nods, grabbing hold of Taehyung’s wrist and moving toward Y/n, who hasn’t left Jimin’s side.

“I grabbed everything important, so let’s just go.” He reaches for Y/n’s arm, triggering Jimin’s protectiveness. Jimin pulls her closer on instinct, and Namjoon sighs as he releases Taehyung in order to grab both of them. “We need to go.” He addresses Y/n under his breath. “You’re not safe here, either.” They keep eye contact for just a moment, but it’s enough that Y/n is left with the feeling of ice in her blood even after Namjoon’s turned back to the group.

How much… does he know?

Before she can question Jimin about Namjoon’s suspicious behavior, Jimin’s tugging her toward his friends as they move toward the edge of the forest. Pulling back and forcing Jimin to a stop, Y/n points at Jungkook, who has now flanked Jin and is defending one part of their campsite from the oncoming hoard of Slytherins.

“I’m not leaving without him.” The conflicted look that crosses Jimin’s face tears at Y/n’s heart, but she stands her ground, motioning back toward Jungkook. “I have to stay-”

“What? No, you have to go!” The call comes from behind her, and it’s only a matter of moments before Jungkook is by her side, shoving her into Jimin’s arms. “Take her with you! Don’t you ever let her out of your sight-”

“Jungkook, watch out-”

Taehyung yells out to him, just a moment too late. Y/n watches in horror as a red light appears just over Jungkook’s shoulder. It grows bigger and bigger as it flies toward them, accompanied by the disgusted shriek of “Blood Traitor!”, and all she can do is hug Jungkook to her as she waits for the curse to strike him in between his shoulder blades.

Pulling him close, she barely manages to catch the flash of silver that appears, encompassing them as another body slides into view and blocks out everything else. The shield charm is cast wordlessly and so powerfully that it knocks the Slytherin who’d attacked them clean off his feet. Thrown back at least ten feet, he’s left bewildered and sore.

Hoseok stands between Jungkook and the army of Slytherins, breathing heavily as the shield dissipates around them. He holds his head high as he stares down the group, resigning himself to the fact that, after years of hiding his true self from his housemates, his loyalties have been clearly defined in that moment.

The silence that follows is only broken by the soft fwip of a wand being slipped out of a pocket, and it’s as Hoseok is whipping his head around that another red light appears, its caster completely silent. The curse burns through the air, almost as if in slow motion, cutting through the space right under Hoseok’s ear with the sharp precision of a skilled marksman and meeting its target on the other side, searing the ends of Hoseok’s hair as it goes. The Slytherin who’d been poised to attack from the treeline is hurled backwards, disappearing into the forest as everyone watches him go, Yoongi’s wand still trained on the spot where he’d stood.

The cold fury that fills Yoongi’s eyes is replaced with concern as he lowers his wand and rushes to Hoseok’s side, giving him a once over before turning to face the growing crowd of Death Eaters in-training, aligning his loyalties just the same as Hoseok had. Y/n allows herself the small smile that arises when she sees the gaze that Hoseok casts upon Yoongi, filled with the kind of love she could only hope to have in her own life. The moment doesn’t last long.

The group of friends, realizing almost simultaneously that they’re being surrounded, forms a huddle facing outward, wands steady as they prepare for the attack.

“If we make it out of this shit alive, I’m going to throw the biggest fit of my life when I get home.” The mention of the Dark Lord’s most loyal Min family sets off the first wave of curses, their traitorous son the target.

One by one, the group takes down their attackers, tiring out but never giving up. Minimal injuries are sustained on their end, their will to survive too strong to forgive even the slightest mistake. Jimin keeps one hand on Y/n at all times, unwilling to lose track of her for even a moment, as if she’s not been stuck to his side all night.

Curses rain down on them from all sides, the Dark Mark in the sky peeking through the shower of red lights as they fight for their lives. Jimin feels Y/n stagger beside him, but she seems to be unharmed when he looks her over. Glancing in alarm at the moon, barely visible amongst all the smoke and mayhem, Jimin curses under his breath as he remembers the date -- and more importantly, that she hadn’t yet taken her dose for the night. He pours all his energy into his attacks from that moment on, everything suddenly becoming much more urgent.

Time passes so slowly that none of them are quite sure how long they’ve been there, fighting in a war they’d never asked for. Just when Y/n thinks they might be losing -- that they might be forced to pledge allegiance to the Dark Lord, or even killed where they stand -- there’s a loud pop and a gush of wind passes over all of them.

From within their circle comes the angered cry of Sirius Black, who manages to deflect a rather mean curse headed straight for Jin’s chest. He’s followed by James and Remus, the three of them throwing themselves into the mix so carelessly that it catches the Slytherins by surprise. James takes advantage of the delay, surging out of the circle toward the largest density of Slytherins and pointing his wand at the ground closest to them.

“Confringo!” The earth beneath their feet shudders under James’ command, collapsing in on itself before exploding outward, sending no less than 10 people flying through the air and creating a chaos too intense for the rest to handle. The world around them becomes fuzzy and confusing, and Y/n feels nothing except the hands that pull at her and urge her forward into the forest.

They all manage to stumble far enough away from the mess to gather their bearings, but the shouts of their enemies are not far off. As soon as they confirm that they’re all alive and relatively unscathed, Remus takes Y/n by the elbow and pulls her gently to him. Jimin is reluctant to let her go.

“I need to talk to you -- we have to go somewhere safe.” Sirius is collecting the rest of the group and giving them the location of a safe place to meet, a small cottage in the countryside where he and Remus had been living.

“You guys head there first, we’ll meet you.” He hands the keys to Jungkook, who nods in understanding as he sees that Remus has no intention to rejoin the group. Jimin starts to reach for Y/n, unhappy with their separation, but Hoseok speaks up from the back. He’s being half-carried by Yoongi, his leg having suffered a bit of damage from James’ blasting curse, but not so much that he couldn’t walk. Y/n bites back a smirk, suspecting that Hoseok had just been looking for an excuse to need Yoongi, who is absolute garbage at hiding how pleased he is.

“Make sure you come back soon. I trust you guys, and I know you need to talk in private, but I don’t like not having Y/n close in times like this.” Remus nods, acknowledging Jungkook as well, before leading Y/n away. The boys start to apparate away, James helping Hoseok and Yoongi get to the house safely before returning to join his friends. Remus has led Y/n a safe enough distance away that the Slytherins would have a hard time finding them and is explaining the gravity of the situation to her.

“-- to infiltrate a pack of werewolves living in the mountains. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, Y/n.” Y/n examines Remus’ face, noting the new scars and the exhaustion that lies heavy in his eyes. He looks nothing like the bright school boy from just a few months ago, and she knows he’s seen unimaginable things in the short time that he’s been working under Dumbledore. They all look drained and, frankly, terrified. The lives they’d been promised from a young age were fading away into this dreary nothingness, this thankless job where nothing is more uncertain than the future.

“You’ll be careful, won’t you? Just tell me you’ll be careful -- all of you.” Remus looks taken aback by her words, and Sirius can’t suppress the soft chuckle that escapes him, amazed at this girl standing before him, not nearly as reserved as they’d all thought her to be.

“Of course we’ll be careful, love. Don’t you trust us?” Y/n shakes her head, smiling despite her scoff.

“Trust you guys? I didn’t realize you were an aspiring comedian, Sirius.” They laugh openly now, thankful for even just this moment of reprieve from the hell they live in. Remus leans over, patting her adoringly on her head, as if they weren’t damn near the same age.

“Good, that’s good. Don’t trust anyone, Y/n, you hear me? Don’t trust anyone you wouldn’t die for. Can you do that for me?” Y/n nods, the picture of those boys in that cottage in the countryside coming to mind so easily.

“I know who my people are. There’s no one else besides them -- and you guys. So try your best not to get yourselves killed?” James salutes her once as Sirius nods. Remus moves to agree, but the sound of leaves crunching not too far away triggers an immediate response in him. Lunging forward and taking her into his arms, he throws Y/n over his shoulder and takes off running, knowing better than anyone else what it would mean if she were caught. Y/n watches with horror as two Death Eaters appear out of what looks like thin air, sending James and Sirius into action. She can do nothing but watch as they deflect curses while maintaining their ground.

Remus sets her down a long distance away, trying to warn her again, but her attention is on the action they’d just managed to escape. She tries to push past him to go help James and Sirius, but he grabs her by the shoulders quickly and forces her to look at him, shaking her roughly in the process.

“Listen to me, Y/n- listen to me!” She meets his eyes, alarmed by the frustration in his voice. “The public knows. They know now just to what extent the werewolf population is siding with Voldemort. Everything before this summer was just speculation -- of course the evil magical beasts should side with the Dark Lord, right? Well, the Minister of Magic just released a statement this morning. Everyone knows now. And it won’t matter how much we cry and beg and plead for our lives -- if they catch us, we’re dead. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Y/n can do no more than stare into Remus’ eyes, wishing this all away -- wishing that they could just be back in school, a bunch of kids with no worries about the war. But the longer she stares into his eyes, the longer she realizes that they don’t just have to worry about the war now. They’re part of it. Two werewolves with way too many people keeping their secret. James, Sirius, Peter, Jungkook, Hoseok, and now Jimin? And --

Does Namjoon know, too? Just who the hell else has to be put into danger because of what I am?

--

Y/n steps through the front gate of the cottage, having been dropped off by Remus -- she’s not of age yet to apparate alone -- before he disappeared again, presumably to help his friends escape. She’s barely within ten feet of the front door when it’s flying open, Jimin appearing before her with wild eyes. He rushes at her, taking her into his arms with a desperation he didn’t even know he felt. She pats at his back, unsure of what to say, still dazed from everything Remus had told her.

“I was only gone a few minutes…” Jimin pulls back, looking at her as if she’s insane.

“I don’t care. Those were the worst few minutes of my life. I hated not knowing if you were okay.” He looks her over, patting at her arms gently. “You are okay, right?” When she nods he sighs before glancing around them urgently as if realizing they’re out in the open. He tugs her inside, shutting the door tightly behind them. He’s about to motion her down the hallway into the living room, where the rest of their friends are regrouping, but she stops him. The look she gives him is suspicious, and he’s unsure why.

“Jimin, you told me you would never breathe a word of what I am to anyone…” He looks at her with alarm, shaking his head.

“I didn’t tell anyone anything -- why? What happened?” She examines him for a moment, seeing that Jimin’s as confused as she is. She proceeds with caution, realizing that if Jimin really hadn’t said anything, then this conversation is about to be very uncomfortable.

“I think… Namjoon might know something…” Jimin feels like he can’t breathe then, the air stopping short in his chest as his heart drops out from under him. He swears without thinking, the word slipping out as he processes what she’s saying.

“Fuck… shit… fuck…” Y/n squints at him, unsure of where his mind’s just gone. Jimin squeezes his eyes shut, another swear falling from his lips as guilt overcomes him. He opens his mouth to explain, but he can’t bring himself to look her in the eyes.

“Before I figured out… everything, I would talk to Joon about things that confused me… about you.” He opens his eyes just enough to glance at her before looking away, but he’s surprised that she isn’t fuming with anger. She’s only thinking carefully about his words.

“So, he probably put it together on his own.” She comes to the conclusion as she ponders, offering the reason for Namjoon’s comment to her earlier. Jimin lurches forward, taking her hand in both of his, eyes pleading.

“I swear to you, Y/n, I didn’t say a word of this to him after I figured it out. I completely dropped it, and when he asked me why, I just told him I was respecting your privacy by minding my own business -- I promise, I never said anything--”

“Jimin!” His name cuts through the air, and his mouth snaps shut immediately to give her room to talk. “I’m not mad at you. I’m more worried than anything… I wonder who else knows…”

“Uhm, actually--” The new voice has them both turning to look to the end of the hallway, where Tae’s standing awkwardly in the doorway to the living room. He’s flanked by Jin and Yoongi, Namjoon standing with Jungkook and Hoseok just inside the room.

“--I think we all know…” The blood drains from both Y/n and Jimin’s faces as Jungkook and Hoseok look to each other in alarm. Jin nods, Yoongi smiling awkwardly to confirm what Tae’s saying. The air in the house is cold, no one willing to break the tense silence while Y/n processes what she’s just heard. She meets Jungkook’s eyes then, his gaze betraying the immense fear that he’s feeling, much like the ice running through her veins.

None of them even notice the front door opening behind Jimin, the three Marauders stumbling into the house, disheveled but generally unscathed. They stop short at the scene before them, glancing amongst themselves before James is breaking the silence himself.

“Are we… interrupting something…?”

--

“Okay, someone start talking before I go insane.” They’re all crowded into the living room meant only for a few people, Y/n and Remus sitting together on a couch in the middle of the room, everyone else taking up the extra seats and floor space. It looks like a club meeting gone horribly wrong, if the discomfort in everyone’s eyes is anything to go by. Y/n looks around after demanding an explanation, finally looking to Namjoon, as he’s the only one she’d been aware of until a few minutes ago. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

“After Jimin suddenly stopped all the obsessive theorizing and curiosities, I got suspicious… I had a feeling he’d put everything together, and I was worried that he was getting himself into some kind of trouble because that’s just the kind of nosy Ravenclaw he is. I just put it together myself so I could help him if I needed to…” Jimin grimaces at Namjoon’s words, knowing them to be true but disliking the description all the same.

The glare of irritation Jungkook’s been shooting him doesn’t help, but Hoseok pulls the Gryffindor’s attention away with a bump of his knee against Jungkook’s thigh. When Jungkook drags his burning gaze away from Jimin to look at Hoseok, Jimin’s shocked to see that Hoseok’s simply shaking his head at the Jeon heir, silently telling him to back off. Jimin’s eyes widen then, never having experienced such a sense of stunned relief as he feels in this moment with Hoseok’s quiet support.

Jungkook turns his annoyed gaze over to the spot where Taehyung, Jin, and Yoongi sit. He locks eyes with his roommate of six years.

“Tae?” The boy in question looks down at his hands sheepishly, glancing at Y/n in a way that seems almost apologetic. When he lifts his head, he speaks directly to her, feeling that his explanation should be for her and her alone.

“Jimin’s my best friend… it would be weird if I wasn’t worried about him with him acting so strange. I didn’t really figure it out until the beginning of the summer, when I started spending more time with you -- I noticed how sick you’d get around the same time each month, and you’d always look so tired afterwards. I know we don’t know each other as well as Jimin knows you, but I was worried about you, so I… did my own digging and put the pieces together. It also explained a lot about all the times Jungkook would run out of our room in a panic in the middle of the night. There were just… a lot of things that made sense once I’d started to think about it.” Y/n keeps her eyes on him, trying to process the guilt in his eyes and wondering why he sounds so upset. “I know that you’re probably terrified of us knowing, but I promise I was just worried about you. I’m sorry I was snooping in your life…”

Y/n sees then that Taehyung feels the same kind of responsibility that Jimin had always carried in his eyes -- one of fear that his actions would bring her harm. He’d been sitting with that for the whole summer, quietly trying his best to keep her safe by pretending he knew nothing at all. She opens her mouth to tell him that he has nothing to feel bad about, but Jin’s clearing his throat.

“I, uh-- we--” He gestures to the space between himself and Yoongi, whose gaze is one of cautious observation as the conversation goes on around him. “We… were on our way back to Yoongi’s room and overheard you and Hoseok talking -- something about Jimin finding out… Hoseok was really upset, and he was kind of yelling. We didn’t mean to eavesdrop -- it’s just that we were right outside, and you were trying to calm him down, and he was just saying a lot of stuff that was confusing and weird, but it was obvious what was going on.” Jin glances over at Yoongi as if to confirm his story, and the Slytherin only nods. He turns back to Y/n, finishing his explanation. “We found out together--”

“Actually--” Everyone’s attention turns to Yoongi, who shifts uncomfortably under the weight of their gazes. He clears his throat, scratching at his neck while he finds his words. “Actually… I already knew by then. I think, based on what everyone’s been saying, that I probably knew before any of them…” He trails off, leaving the group to devolve into strained chaos.

“Wait, you knew?”

“How long have you known?!”

“When did you find out?” Ignoring the barrage of questions, Yoongi only looks to Hoseok, whose eyes tell how shocked he is. Flicking his gaze to Y/n, Yoongi continues.

“Do you remember when we first met? That night in the Hospital Wing -- it was before winter break.” Y/n’s jaw drops as her memories fly all the way back to December -- almost a year prior. “I went to visit you, originally because Hobi had mentioned something about going to visit a friend and I was looking for an excuse to see him.” Hoseok laughs under his breath, still stunned into disbelief about the situation, but Yoongi hasn’t stopped talking, almost rambling now.

“I had just found out that you guys were even friends -- it was really weird for me to think about, you know? Until then, he’d only ever been friends with Slytherins, and even then he seemed hesitant about getting close to them. I mean, I get it, that’s how I was, too. But to find out that my roommate since first year had a secret friend group with people that made no sense for him to know -- I was curious about you. I wanted to see what you were like. Especially because Jimin was, like, obsessed with you -- sorry, Jimin.” The Ravenclaw grimaces again, hating that he’s been described only as obsessive but knowing that that’s exactly what he’d been like.

“So… what does that have to do with finding out about me? How did you know?” Y/n leans forward, elbows on her knees as she looks intently at Yoongi. He sighs in response.

“Look. My entire life, I’ve been trying to separate myself from my name. My parents are objectively fucking insane, and I want nothing to do with them, especially now that they pulled that bullshit with the World Cup reservation. I can’t be like them, okay? I would rather die fighting on the right side of this war than ever pledge my allegiance to that nose-less freak. But that doesn’t change the fact that I still live at the Min Estate. And the Min Estate -- it’s like a beacon for the wicked and evil. I’ve seen every kind of creature walk through the doors of my house whenever my parents hold their Death Eater meetings. It’s like a monthly book club, but for murder. So I know what werewolves are like. I know the signs and the symptoms, and I know how cruel and vicious they can be.”

Y/n breaks her gaze then, staring down at her feet as he confirms every fear that she’s ever felt -- that she would be seen as a monster, an evil beast with only the instinct to kill. All the same, it hurts to hear him say it out loud.

“And that’s why I knew you were nothing like them.” Y/n’s head whips up, and she sees that Yoongi’s focused on conveying to her with his eyes that he means what he’s said. He doesn’t see the affection that fills Hoseok’s gaze, replacing the icy fear he’d been feeling the entire time Yoongi’s been talking.

“You’re nothing like them, Y/n. You’re kind and considerate, and you’re so shy around new people that even I’m in pain just watching you struggle to talk. You’re really fucking weird, and your sense of humor has been shaped by growing up with a crazy ass Gryffindor brother and this sarcastic asshole--” He points then to his boyfriend, finally feeling confident enough to look Hoseok in the eye as he cracks the joke before returning his attention to Y/n.

“So, yes, you’re a werewolf. But you’ve got nothing to worry about with me. Or any of us, to be honest.” The rest of the group nods then, and Y/n feels the air returning to her lungs after so long of holding her breath. It’s only when she looks to Remus, who still seems unsure, that she remembers how complicated their situation is.

“I appreciate that, I really do. You guys have no idea how scared I was that you’d find out… but it’s not as simple as you think -- not that any of this has been simple to begin with. It’s just… more complicated--”

“So, are we talking about Remus, or something else?” Taehyung speaks up, looking genuinely confused about what she’s alluding to. James and Sirius tense where they sit on either side of Remus, whose gaze has just become very guarded.

“I’m not sure what you mean--”

“The ‘you being a werewolf’ thing? Yeah, that wasn’t hard to figure out once I knew what to look for in Y/n.” It’s Jin who cuts him off, Yoongi and Namjoon nodding along. Jungkook throws his hands in the air, flopping back against the couch with an exasperated sigh.

“Just how bad are we at keeping things a secret around here?!” Remus groans in response, but James and Sirius seem to be taking the news in stride.

“Look on the bright side, Moony -- now we have an army of hooligans to keep you guys safe!” Remus rolls his eyes in irritation before looking to Y/n for help. She stares down at her hands, feeling more exhausted than she’s ever felt in her life -- and she experiences monthly painful transformations that leave her bedridden for days after.

“This isn’t a joke, James.” The Potter boy snaps his mouth shut when, for the first time since meeting her, Y/n’s voice carries an edge when she addresses him. “The number of people that are in danger now because of what we are has just doubled. And now there are muggleborns involved -- what’s going to happen if anyone gets wind that they know something about us? With what the Ministry’s just released… it’s too much. This is all too much.” Namjoon hums then, pulling Y/n out of the dangerously dark mental dive she was just about to take.

“I mean, we’re involved in this war whether we know about you guys or not. We’re already fighting for our lives -- what difference does it make if we know what you are? If anything, it gives us a reason to fight harder.” He gestures among all of them, all eleven of them in that room.

“We’re all we have left in this war -- why wouldn’t we do everything it takes to keep each other safe?”

[hops-hunny]

Pride Lost, Feelings Found

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Reader

Pronouns: They/Them

Word Count: 2.2k

Request: @summerstardust  “Could you do a Neville with a gender neutral reader. It can fluff/smut/bit of both 🤷, whatever you want. With the prompts: 4. "You think she looks at me? Am I invisible?”, 12. "I’ve always liked you, you’ve just never noticed.” and 17. "Make me fall in love with you.”

Maybe where Neville is secretly crushing on the reader from afar and the reader is told, in some way, about this and he just runs away from the scene. Then the reader follows and finds him and tells him that they want to get to know him.

Don’t feel pressured to use this idea, though. I am just feeling a bit angsty at the moment. Thank you! :)”

Summary: It all crumbles down before Neville’s eyes, but it’s replaced with something he’d never expect.

Warnings: angst but it turns to fluff!!

A/N: Ok ok, if you want a part 2 with what happens after reader says that? Lmk and I’ll probably write it! I’m so sorry this took so long esp for one of my favorite readers. I hope you enjoy <3

4. "You think she looks at me? Am I invisible?” 

12. "I’ve always liked you, you’ve just never noticed.” 

17. "Make me fall in love with you.”

Sometimes Neville wish he had never noticed (Y/n). But when you shine as bright as they did, how couldn't you notice? They bewitching, enchanting everyone around them with a simple smile, him included. However when miracles as amazing as (Y/n) come to be, so does a lot of attention. He adored everything about them, the way they always smeared their ink on their scroll when they wrote, how they’d walk into class every morning with that same sleepy expression, even down to the way they’d always have to pull their socks up because they got the wrong size and they’d fall down. They was his dream partner. But sadly, that’s the thing about dream lovers, they’re meant to stay dreams.

From as long as Neville could remember, he had been on the bottom of the social ladder. Hell, when your familiar (who is also a toad) causes a wild goose chase during your first years at a new school, it’s really not hard to understand why. If it had been someone else instead of him, he would've made fun of them too. He was a loser and no one would ever let him forget. Not his friends, not Malfoy, not anyone. But they did. In all his years at Hogwarts, (Y/n) had never made him feel like a loser. Every interaction the two of them had made him feel normal, like himself.

Granted every interaction they had was small. Accidentally bumping into them in the halls, a tight lip smile when eye contact was made. One time he thought (Y/n) was waving to him but was in fact waving to their friend behind him but luckily they hadn't seen (Malfoy definitely did..). Out of all the people who could have noticed the way he looked at them or the way his cheeks would turn red when they'd pass him it had to be Malloy. That was awful for a multitude of reasons. One being that for some reason, (L/n) and Malfoy were the best of friends. Everyday he wished that it was him who got sat next to them in potions instead of that weasel of a boy. The second reason being that despite knowing how Neville felt for them, he still had yet to do anything with the information. To most people, they’d be relieved if Malfoy found out one of their most personal pieces of information and had yet to do anything but, Neville knew better. Draco was a vile creature and if he hadn’t teased him about it yet, that surely meant something even greater was coming. Something truly awful and devastating. 

The first week after Malfoy found out had Neville staying up to the break of dawn, stirring around restlessly at the thought of what he’d do. Would he spill something on him when he was set to have a class with them, tape a note to the back of his shirt with the information on it, or worse...no, no. Not even Malfoy was cruel enough to do that! If anything, if he was going to tell (Y/n) he’d probably do it when Neville wasn’t around so they could come up to him and reject him at random. Although it was sad, what got Neville to sleep at night was imagining that they already knew. That (Y/n) was more than aware and it was only a matter of time till they’d reject him and his life would go back to normal without any pesky thoughts of how beautiful he found them to be.

--------------------------------

Seamus’s words went in one of Neville’s ears and right back out of the other, sounding like white noise to the boy. He couldn’t listen to whatever idiotic thing he was going on about. How could he when (Y/n) was a few feet away, looking just as gorgeous as they usually did? It was hard not to focus on them, the way their pretty lips would curl into a smile, giggling at something one of their friends had said. He felt a smile grace his own lips at the sight, letting out a noise of protest as Ron chucked a cushion at his head.

“Are you even, listening Longbottom?” he heard him ask, still not ripping his eyes away from the (y/h/h) across the hall.

“You think they look at me? Am I invisible?” he asked in a hushed tone, as if he was to speak any louder, they would somehow hear them despite them being so far away. Seamus let out a loud snort, beginning to cackle as he slapped the boy on the back a bit too hard.

“Fat chance, Longbottom! You think (L/n) would notice you? They wouldn’t even notice me, and that’s saying something!” Seamus wheezed out. Neville shot him a pointed glare, fuming from the boy’s words. He shoved him off the couch, rolling his eyes.

“It’s not that people don’t notice you Seamus….it’s that they do for all the wrong reasons.” Dean pointed out, causing the other 3 to laugh, growing louder as Seamus failed to push himself off the ground. 

“Oh don’t worry, Longbottom. (L/n) will be sure to notice you soon enough.” he froze at the sound of the cold voice, turning around to look at the platinum blonde prince himself. Draco stood their, smirking. Crabbe and Goyle tried to nod along when in reality, they had no idea what their leader was going on about. Neville gulped, standing up to face him completely.

“W-what do you mean?” he asked him, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants. Draco simply shrugged, beginning to walk in the opposite direction. He turned around briefly looking the boy up and down.

“Means exactly what I said. Nothing more, nothing less. Well as much as I’d love to stay around and lose brain cells with you idiots, I’ve got better things to attend to.” and with that he left.

“Don’t worry, Nev. Draco is always just talk, I’m sure nothing will come of it.” Harry said, offering the boy a reassuring smile. Although Neville knew he meant well, he couldn’t stop the sinking, tight feeling in his chest. Draco had yet to do something so he had no reason to feel this way, but it was just a hunch that the worst was yet to come.

Even hours later, as Neville lay in his bed that night, all he could think about were the words that echoed throughout his head over and over.

“Oh don’t worry, Longbottom. (L/n) will be sure to notice you soon enough.”

He didn’t know if he was grateful for how vague that was or if it was the bane of his days. Draco could’ve meant anything by that, all he knew is whatever it meant the intent behind his words were less than kind. He turned again, sighing as he looked out the window. There was a full moon tonight, a beautiful silver halo of light dancing its way around it. 

“Merlin, save me please.” he pleaded quietly, to no one in particular. Every bit of hope, every positive thought laced in his words. Although he prepared for the worse to happen, he had a sliver of hope that it wouldn’t. That tomorrow he’d wake up and his day would be as mundane as usual, just the way he’d like it. And if he was lucky (Y/n) would give him a small smile in the hall.

---------------------------

Neville’s small sliver of hope had grown into an entire cake. Looking back on earlier in the week, he was worried for absolutely nothing! Malfoy once again was all bark and no bite which for once, he was glad for! He let out a sigh of content as he made his way from the library, heading in the direction of the main corridor. He saw Seamus give him an uncharacteristically serious look from the small crowd that was gathered around something. As he grew closer, in the middle of the circle he saw Draco stood on a crate as (Y/n) sat next to him, listening as he read something from a paper. 

“Nev, you might wanna...might wanna leave.” Seamus whispered to him. However, he looked as people stared at him, some giggling while some look sympathetic.

“Why? What’s going o-”

“Here’s another one I found in his bin! ‘Dear (Y/n), although I’ll never give you this letter, I can’t help but write about how amazing you are! When I saw you help that injured bird the other day, I wanted nothing more than to help you tend to it. I find it funny how even when you’re sad, you manage to brighten up my day.’ God how dorky is this loser? I can’t believe he fancies you so much (Y/n)!” Draco howled in laughter, a few others joining him. Neville found himself at the forefront of the circle, frozen in his spot. That was his letter! He had started writing them as a way of coping with his feelings, knowing that the person he fancied would always be out of reach of him. “Anything to say for yourself, Longbottom?”

Neville felt tears well in his eyes, the warmth of them mixing with the heat of his red flushed face. “I...I..” he looked at (Y/n) who look like they had something to say however, he didn’t wanna stick around to hear it. Without another word, he ran off, tears streaming down his face as soon as he was far enough from anyone. In his time of despair, he ran to his only place of comfort. The one place that he wasn’t Neville, the loser who just had his feelings ripped from safe keeping in front of half the students in his year. The place where he was just Neville.

He took in a deep breath of the familiar muggy air of the greenhouse, relaxing slightly as he took a seat on the ground. “God I’m so stupid!” he wailed, tears flowing down his face. His crying grew harder, harsh hiccups shaking and jolting his body as he screamed into his knees. He knew there was a matter of time before (Y/n) was to find out, he just didn’t know it’d be like this. If this was just the pain from them learning about his feelings, he didn’t wanna know how bad he’d be wounded when they came to reject him. Neville’s head jolted up at the sound of soft footsteps making their way over to him. He noticed the familiar pair of black shoes, turning his head as they kneeled down in front of him.

“I thought you may be here! You always seemed so passionate about plants during herbology so I thought it wouldn’t hurt to check here first.” (Y/n) said, placing a hand on the boy’s knee. He looked down at where they connected, feeling his face flush slightly from the contact. “You know, your friends care about you a lot. After you ran off, Ginny came up and socked Draco straight in the face. It was quite a sight really.” they let out a soft giggle at the memory. “Hermione went in to drag her off but when she saw how smug Draco looked, she couldn’t help but to join in. While they did that, your other friends set off looking for you and I did too.”

“Why?” he asked, catching their attention. The (y/h/h) gave him a confused look, tilting their head to the side. “Why did you come looking for me? Don’t you hate me now? Gross, stupid Longbottom having a crush on Hogwart’s sweetheart. How pathetic, huh?” he sniffled, ripping his eyes away from them. He knew if he was to continue to look, a completely new set of tears would be triggered.

“Why wouldn’t I? I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t! Although I don’t know much about you, I do know you’re a kind individual and you didn’t deserve what Draco did to you.” they said in a soft tone, moving into the spot next to Neville. They sat in silence for a moment before (Y/n) cleared their throat, looking over at him once more. “How long?”

“Pardon?”

“I mean, how long have you liked me for? I wasn’t even aware until today.” they queried curiously.

“I’ve always liked you, you’ve just never noticed. I don’t blame you for not noticing though, we’re from two different worlds. You’ve got everyone in hogwarts begging for a moment of your time and you hang out with some of the most elite and prestigious people in the castle.” he sniffled some, wiping his nose on his sleeve as he set his hand down on the cold cement ground. “It was stupid of me to let my feelings last for so long.”

“Why was it stupid?” they asked, scooting closer to him. Neville turned to look at them, losing his breath at their closeness.

“Because you don’t feel the same..not that I expected you to. You didn’t even know I existed until today.” he let out a huff of air. (Y/n) bit the inside of their cheek before placing their hand on top of Neville’s, tangling their fingers together.

“You’re right, I don’t feel the same,” they started, tightening their grip as the boy began to get up. “But that doesn’t mean I never will. Let’s get to know each other a bit more.” they leaned in closer, the feeling of both of their breath being exchanged like whispers amongst their lips. 

“Make me fall in love with you.”

TAGSLIST:@vayeya11 @pink-hufflepuff  @clancyscookies @beewitchedlou​ 

@nevillelongbottomsgirlfriend​ @redpanda-poetry​ @vibingaesthetically​

[runtedfiction]

the best

day 5: domesticity @zelinkweek2021

ao3

AN: i could spend a lifetime writing sleepy domestic scenes. also shoutout to @itcantbe, whose sweet and thoughtful comments have kept me going all week :)

* * *

Four times there’s someone waiting at home.

* * *

“You’re sure moving in together is a good idea,” Zelda says when all their boxes are already combined, stacked neatly on the floor of their new apartment.

Link laughs. “You’re asking me this now?”

“I’m asking you this now.”

He kisses the top of her head. There’s natural light, oak hardwood, and a kitchen with an island. This is everything they wanted, so she’s not sure why there’s dread gnawing at the bottom of her stomach. The loss of privacy? The merging of two lives? The thought of there always being a loving, patient partner to come home to?

He smiles at her when she hands him the scissors to open the first box. “I’m sure.”

* * *

They move in over the course of a weekend, and Monday is right back to work. It’s a rough Monday too--there’s a memory leak in one of her team’s apps and she spends all day trying to plug it. When she takes the train home she nearly gets off at her old stop. Remembering that her new place is slightly farther is enough to put her in a crabby mood when she comes home.

“Hey,” he says when she walks in the door. A waft of something warm and savory scents hits her. He didn’t mention that he’d be cooking today.

“Hello.”

Link looks up from the cutting board--her “Hello” did sound a bit terse coming out of her mouth. “How was your day?”

She flops down on the couch. “Ugh.”

“Ugh?”

“Ugh.”

“Well,” he says, sprinkling something on top of whatever’s in the pot, “dinner is ready whenever. I’m killing the heat now.”

“Mmhmm.” She pulls out her phone and starts scrolling.

“Man,” he says, and he goes to the couch. “Bad day?”

She puts her phone down to bury her face in his shoulder. “The worst.”

(“Better that you’re here now” goes unsaid. She wants a bit more time to mope around.)

He threads her finger through hers. “I’m sorry bud. You wanna talk about it over dinner? I made that veggie soup you like.”

She perks up, just a bit. “The one with the pasta?”

“The one with the pasta.”

* * *

The rest of the week isn’t much better. When Purah messages her asking if she wants to grab drinks after work on Friday, Zelda reacts with every “yes” they have in their company Slack.

“Fucking hell,” she says, sipping on a too-expensive drink in a too-nice bar. “Memory leaks on Monday, urgent stakeholder requests later, and unredacted log info today?”

Purah shakes her head. “They don’t pay you enough.”

“Amen.”

Robbie and Impa come, and Purah buys everyone a tequila shot. Then Zelda buys a round, because why not, and soon the four of them are out on the street giggling and searching for a karaoke bar.

Her phone buzzes. It’s Link.

“Hello?”

(“Ooooooooh Liiiink,” Purah coos. Zelda chooses to ignore her.)

“Hi,” he says. “I’m heading out from Daruk’s thing; I’ll be home in like 30.”

“Ok,” she says, and checks the time on her watch. “Oh, it’s one already! Don’t wait for me, I’m not too sure how long it’ll be.”

“Ok,” he says. “Have fun stay safe.”

“Yeah, I will!”

They find a karaoke bar that’s charmingly shitty with a two drink minimum. As soon as they walk in, someone is doing a very bad but very passionate rendition of “My House” by Flo Rida. They also queue up for the stage--Impa is willing to do a basic Taylor Swift song with her because she’s a stellar friend--and spend the rest of the night dancing and drinking.

It’s somewhere between four and five when Zelda makes it back home, still drunk but mostly tired. She changes into pajamas and brushes her teeth far too quickly, careful to not turn on the electric mode so Link doesn’t wake up.

She climbs into bed as quietly as she can considering her head is swimming and she can feel the blood rushing through it. Link stirs a bit, and she’s relieved when his breathing goes back to normal. But then he turns towards her, and fuck, maybe she really did wake him up.

Except all he does is sigh sleepily and reach for her.

Zelda, who was so exhausted and cold and tipsy a moment ago, melts.

* * *

The first time she plans dinner when he’s running late is mostly a success. She picked up a bottle of fancy French soda, the garlic bread is in the oven, and the sauce will come together soon.

There’s just one complication.

“You burned the spaghetti?”

She looks at the pot of clearly burned spaghetti. “No.”

He laughs, and redoes his ponytail to wash his hands and start slicing garlic. “Why didn’t you just get a bigger pot for the noodles?”

“Leave me alone,” she says, bumping her hip into his.

“No.”

He drops the knife to hug her. She tries to wriggle her way out of his grip to no avail.

* * *

When Sidon’s birthday rolls around, Zelda gets home earlier this time. Link insists that she go to bed, but he said he’d be home before three and she can wind down with some TV anyway.

(And if she checks his location every fifteen minutes and glances at the door every twenty to see if the lock will turn, what of it?)

When he does come in, she tries her hardest to look casual, and not like she’s been pining for the last two hours, and knew exactly when he would come home.

“Hello,” she says.

“Hi,” he replies, voice a little croaky. His hair is down fully, and he looks tired.

“Fun night?”

He shakes his head and smiles. “A little too fun. We went to that karaoke bar you recommended.”

“Nice!” She pats the seat next to her. “What’d you sing?”

“‘Home’.” When he sits down he smells like beer. “That Edward, something, Magnetic one?”

“Oh yeah. That’s a good one.”

“What’re you watching?”

“Oh.” She turns back to the TV. “Something silly. Paris Hilton has a cooking show now.”

“Huh.”

“Here’s a glass of water.” She lifts it off the coffee table. “Drink up so tomorrow morning isn’t that bad.”

His smile turns sheepish. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“You know,” he says later while they watch Paris Hilton make the worst French toast in the world, “sometimes I hate going out.”

“Why?” she asks, surprised.

“Home is nice,” he explains. He puts his head on her shoulder. “Warm and clean. And”--he hesitates, and she wonders if he’s going to say something cheesy because he always stops before that—”you’re here.”

“So cheesy,” she says.

He scrunches up his nose. “I know.”

She laughs and takes his hand. “But I get it. Welcome home.”

* * *

Months later, over a bowl of vegetable soup, he asks her if she’s sure this was a good idea.

Zelda looks up from her phone. “What?”

“When we first moved in together,” he explains around a bite of pasta and carrots and beans, “you asked me if I was sure this was a good idea.”

She laughs, and takes a sip. The tomato flavor is especially tangy today. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Yup.”

“Well,” she says with a shrug, “this place is everything we wanted. Hardwood, big kitchen, good light.”

He rolls his eyes. “You know that’s not what I'm asking.”

She smiles. “I know.”

She places a hand over his. He raises an eyebrow and asks, “So?”

“I think,” she starts, giving his hand a squeeze. He squeezes back and smiles. “I think this was the best idea ever. Having someone to come home to is nice.”

His smile grows soft. “The best?”

She nods, sure of it. “The best.”

[amor-immortalem]

Can I Stay Up Here With You Forever ch. 3

Previous

Warnings: Implied sex

“So, what were ya gonna make for dinner?”

“Stir fry... unless you’d rather have something different,” Her green eyes peer at Mammon over the other side of the refrigerator door. “I don’t mind if you want something different. We can always have it tomorrow.”

“No that’s fine,” The demon nods. “Ya want me to help?”

“Sure,” Arella started placing the ingredients on the counter. “You can start by slicing up the mushrooms, the peppers and the scallions.” She started to get out the pans she’d need before going to wash her hands. “I’ll start with the meat.”

He nodded as he washed his hands and began with the task given to him.

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“So how did you enjoy it?” The pair were cleaning up after their meal.

“It was good. I think I didn’t cut the peppers thin enough though,” The demon answers as he dries up one of pans that were used.

“They were still good though,” Arella shut the water off and drained the sink. “They weren’t undercooked so it all turned out fine.”

“Coulda been crunchier though... Either way, ‘snot like it was bad...” Mammon started putting away the dry dishes into their proper places.

“Yeah, you’re not wrong there. I probably could have fried all the veggies a little longer, but this is the first time I’ve ever made stir fry on my own so I didn’t want to burn them. Anyway, you want to watch a movie after this?”

“Sure, although...” The demon trailed off, “Never mind. A movie is perfect.”

“Was there something else you wanted to do instead?”

“Yeah, a little...”

“What did you want to do then?” She moves to cage him against the counter, her hands placed over his. “I think we’re far past the point of you being shy about what you really want, baby boy...”

“I...” the demon closes his eyes and inhales as she presses against him just right almost as if she was trying to tease him, “Don’t tease.” Mammon pushes the smaller human back against the island behind her, looming over her.

“Is that what I’m doing?” She asks playfully, winding her arms around his neck. “I couldn’t tell... What are you going to do to me if I don’t?” The human bites her lip at the growl he lets out, hooking a leg around his hips to pull him closer while she continued to tease him with quick, soft touches over his body. He’s so easy to rile up.

The Avatar of Greed’s response is only a rush of hungry kisses that leave his human breathless by time he pulls away. They stare into each other’s eyes as they catch their breath for a short while before Arella pulls him toward the bedroom.

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She scrolled through her human world social media the next morning as she ran a hand through her boyfriend’s hair while he slept with his head on her chest. He’d probably be out for another hour or two at least, but Arella was more than content to just lay here and snuggle. She flipped through both local news and news from England after she’d caught up on all her socials, receiving a text from her childhood friend, Aubrie.

Aubrie: Reeeeeeeeelllllllssssss

Aubrie: How’s REDACTED?

Arella: REDACTED? Lmao

Arella: Aubrie you make it sound like my address is the location of one of those SCP files you love to read about online.

Aubrie: Well you won’t tell me where you moved to so...

Aubrie: Anywho

Aubrie: how was the move? Is your new house set up yet? Can I come visit you at some point? When are you going back to the Devildom?

Arella: The move went fine and yeah, if youre that dead set on visiting then fine you can come under the condition that the address doesn’t get back to Lucifer in anyway shape or form.

Arella: And I don’t know when or if I’m even going back at this point

Aubrie: Why can’t I tell Lucifer? Did you do something the last time you were down there?

Arella: No, nothing of the sort

Arella: Its just... I told you about how Lucifer and his brothers treat Mammon right? Like he’s the scum of the devildom and they’re always degrading him or accusing him of things he didn’t do with no proof. How Lucifer gives him punishments that sometimes aren’t deserved

Aubrie: Yeah but I thought you’d had a talk with his brothers about that?

Arella: I did but after a month everything reverted back to how it used to be...

Arella: to make matters worse Mammon ended up breaking his elbow after he and Lucifer got into scuffle over a bloody credit card bill yesterday.

Aubrie: wut

Aubrie: Is he alright?

Arella: He’s fine now.

Arella: Solomon was able to heal his arm and then I summoned him up here with me. Honestly the way he talks sometimes he sounds like a dv victim whose too afraid to leave his abusers. Either that or he’s apologizing it away and I can’t stand seeing him like that.

Arella: So I hope that without his brothers around, he’ll be able to decide if he’s truly happy with them or not. I know he loves them more than anything but... idk you can love someone without sacrificing your own happiness you know? And when his brothers talk to or treat him the way they do, he just looks so hurt after.

Aubrie: Yeah I understand. I hope you guys get that all sorted out then. I’ll talk to you later. I have start getting ready for work.

Aubrie: Bye Rells

Arella: good bye Aubrie.

Arella set her phone on the nightstand as the demon resting on her chest began to stir.

“Well, good morning, Sleepyhead. How did you sleep last night?” The human chuckles as Mammon on buries his face into her chest.

“I slept pretty good- better than I have in the last few days. Thanks.” He reply was only slightly muffled before sitting up and stretching. “What about you?”

“I slept great. You certainly did enough to tire me out last night.”

“Who were ya texting?”

“It was just Aubrie. Sorry, did the sound of the vibrations wake you?” She sits up as he shakes his head.

“No I was just waking up while you started texting. I just wanted to lay there a bit longer... I’m hungry, you want breakfast?”

“Yeah, breakfast sounds great,” She moves to grab his shirt from last night off the floor but the soreness in her thighs and hips stop her as she lets out a soft groan.

“I can make it don’t worry. Just stay in bed and rest for now. Yer gonna have to settle for eggs though...”

“Eggs are perfect, Dear.” Arella sighs as she flops over onto her side and Mammon kisses her cheek.

He climbs off the bed and slips on his boxers from the previous night. He’d have time to get his suitcase from the front room and put the clothes away later, but now is time for food.

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Next

Find more on my masterlist

[huihuiheart]

Spiked - Minho

Part of @clandestine-lixie ‘s Smutmas Collab and a great excuse to get some more Minho on my page! 

Summary: It’s pretty much tradition at this point that Changbin spikes the eggnog at the annual Christmas party. What happens though when secrets slip through drunk lips and aren’t forgotten the next morning? At least not forgotten by the very person you confessed to. 

Pairing: Minho x F! Reader

Warnings: Drinking (not drunk when having sex), drunken confessions?, cursing, some angst in the beginning, smut, lovemaking, unprotected sex (stay safe kids), oral (f! receiving), lots of petnames, moments where Minho is kinda smug, lots of praise, it’s sugary sweet, mild sir kink for a moment, fingering, some playful teasing.

I sincerely apologize but I haven’t had time to edit this yet, so...please excuse any errors and stuff I’ll be getting to those when I have some time. I wrote over half of this today with a migraine so we’re working on fumes here. Also if something seems off I apologize, I’ve never celebrated the holidays before so I honestly don’t know what Christmas is like....sorry.

Word Count: 4,992

“Awe don’t tell me you’re already finished taking bets? I haven’t even got mine in on how long before Changbin tries to get us all drunk.” You tease the rambunctious group in the living room as you remove your shoes by the door. Christopher joining you a moment later to help you with your coat, hanging it up for you as he often did. 

“Hey, don’t look so glum. Felix was just getting to the interesting wagers now anyways. Bets of any kind are in Minho’s care this evening. Gifts for tomorrow morning under the tree as always.”  Chris caught you up with where the ever excitable boys had already impatiently gotten up to, before stepping away with your coat so you could join the others.

“So what did I just miss then? You know the topic that had you all in a giggle fit?” You raise a brow as you claim a spot in their circle, between Minho and Hyunjin.

“Oh we were just discussing the last bet. Not that you’d be able to participate anyways seeing how it was about you.” Jisung smirks wickedly until you match his gaze with your own that was just as devious, making him fold in an instant, or so you think, “Just betting on whether we thought you’d stay the night or not this year.”

“That’s not interesting though, I stay practically every year cause I’m too drunk to go home alone and none of you will take me.” You chuckle shaking you head, “ A better bet would be who will get drunk the fastest, my money’s on Hyunjin.” 

Minho took your bet money counting it out before the other boys made their wagers too, writing them all down as more and more bets danced through your group. Both those typical for the Christmas party and those unique to this year for whatever reason. Debates starting up over a few of them as they always did.

“No I’m telling you Y/N will be the first one to admit it. She always gets loose lipped when she drinks.” Jisung teases despite the validity of his statement, something you’ve proven true to them at more than just the previous Christmas parties. 

“Still who she likes is the secret she guards more than anything else, she’d have to be so shitfaced for that to come out it would be ridiculous!” Changbin counters, “ My money is on Felix, he was practically giving it away unprompted last year. It wouldn’t be too hard to get it out of him if we really tried.” 

“Maybe that’s just cause Y/N doesn’t trust some of you to keep your mouths shut.” Christopher shrugs as he takes a seat, though all eyes are on him not because of the motion, but because of his words. Giving away that you had already confessed your crush to at least one person in the room. 

“Wait. So you told him, but you didn’t tell me? What do we even gossip for? Let I’m lowkey offended right now.” Hyunjin whines used to being your partner in crime when it came to exchanging secrets about your group, even the things you’d never tell anyone else. Trusting the other to lock it down tighter than even their own secrets, even if you exploited that information at times. Like when Hyunjin conveniently ended up paired with his crush for every game of the spring break party.

“In my defense I was distraught and looking for you when it slipped. Chris was just the only one around, so he’s the one who got that information.” You counter knowing there wasn’t any taking it back at this point anyways, Hyunjin barely accepting your answer with a grumble. You were somewhat glad that it was the case though, he’d surely exploit the information tonight if he had it. In this case you should be safe, or so you thought before you noticed the subtle smirk on Christopher’s face before he glanced between you and the very crush you’d revealed to him....Minho.

“Hey, the boys sent me to see if you needed any help.” Minho steps into the kitchen watching as you moved to pull something out of the oven. Most of the food had already been prepped before you arrived so you offered to be the one to actually cook it. This being the fourth time in an hour and a half that Minho had been sent to check on you, each time he showed up besides you though he announced himself with those same words....the boys sent me. Them digging a little deeper into your heart whenever you’d hear them again. It implying that that he never actually chose to come to you of his own will, only coming to you since the boys told him to.

“I’m fine Minho. You can go back to the others.” Your words were sharper than you intended and it nearly made you wince, even if he didn’t return your feelings he was still your friend and you shouldn’t be so harsh to him. Sometimes your feelings managed to rear their ugly head before you could stop them though, something you’d feel regret for later

“Rose....your thorns are showing again.” Minho’s gentle voice says the familiar phrase as he moves to stand at your side. His nickname for you with a subtle announcement of the fact that your emotions were slipping out quicker than you often registered, something he always managed to stay calm through no matter how snappy you sometimes got, “I don’t know what riled you up, and I don’t have to. You should go take a minute to calm down though. I’ll watch the food.”

The way he spoke to you was enough to calm you down enough to regain your composure, but not wanting to be so close to him and unintentionally get worked up again you conceded. Slipping outside into the frigid air for a few moments to collect yourself before finding the others in the living room again, sitting besides Christopher now.

“The eggnog spiked yet?” You question with a soft sigh as you lean against his shoulder, causing him to chuckle and nod, “Good, cause I’m going to need a drink to make it through the night.”

“You drunk yet Y/N?” Changbin teases as he pours you another glass. Internally cursing him out, he knew damn well he put something stronger in the eggnog this year without any warning. Knowing that you and Felix at least would try to keep up with everyone else despite being two of the light weights of the group. The others in that category smart enough to stop before they could make a fool out of themselves, even accidentally.

“Not drunk enough to lose to Felix or spill any secrets yet, if that’s what you’re asking.” You call him out, brow quirking as if to challenge him to tease you again. The alcohol buzzing through your system making you more confident in challenging them, even if it slowed your wit slightly. 

“Nah just wondering if you’re drunk enough to at least confess you’re spending the night? Well officially anyways. We thought of a way to determine who you’re going to stay with tonight.” Changbin brings his own glass to his lips, hiding his smirk knowing that Christopher had come to him and Hyunjin with a plan to rig it so that you’d end up with Minho. 

“Fine, I’ll confess to that.” You chuckle not catching onto their schemes, “So how are we figuring it out then? What’s your big, genius plan?” 

The sarcastic way you’re carrying yourself makes Hyunjin snicker, leaning towards Christopher, “Oh if only she knew...” He shakes his head slightly before shaping up, to hide any suspicious acts from you, “Simple, you’re just drawing the name out of a hat. You know the deal though, you only get to pick once and that’s who you’re stuck with.”

“Yeah, I know the deal.” You sit up further waiting for them to bring the hat over, the liquid courage running through you making you feel really good about your odds. It was only a 1 in 8 chance that you’d end up picking Minho, you were most likely safe from your crush. Well the possibility of embarrassing yourself while alone with him anyways. Or so you thought until you managed to pull his name out of the hat.

“Well.....I guess I’m rooming with Minho tonight....”

"Alright I think that's enough for one night." Minho takes the glass from you before you can get it refilled yet again. You'd lost count three drinks ago, hoping you'd get passed out drunk instead of having to face him. Luck wasn't on your side this evening though as Minho still had his wits about him and he refused to let you do something dangerous to your health.

"But Minho, if I'm not drinking what am I going to do?" Your whine is only added to by the small subconscious pout adorning your drunk face.

"We've both had enough and are going to bed now. It's 4 fucking 37 in the morning and you know someone's gonna be waking is up too goddamn early hangover or not. So if you wanna drink something it'll be water on the way to bed." Minho insists moving to help your inebriated form up from your seat on the floor and towards his upstairs bedroom.

"You can use the bathroom, I put some clothes in their for you so you can sleep comfortably." Minho sits on th edge of his bed, pulling out his phone to scroll through seeming almost entirely disinterested as you wobble off to the bathroom. Not getting far though before you have to pull the door open with a blush, your shirt wedged half on with only one arm successfully out.

"M-Minho I got stuck, c-can you help me?" Your words held no room for any hidden implications, especially not when panicked tears started to well in your eyes.

"Hey, it'll be okay. I'm gonna help you and you'll be just fine." Minho coos trying to reassure you, not knowing your panic was partly due to having to face him like this. His warm hands gently in the way they helped untangle you from the shirt you'd somehow managed to get trapped in.

"There you go, all better. Now go get those warm clothes on and get in bed before the cold settles in too much." He insists gently wiping away the last of your tears before you returned to the bathroom.

Silence filled the space when you returned, saying nothing as you switched places with Minho. Sliding into the bed while he was in the bathroom. It wasn't like you'd never slept there before, staying with the boys frequently meant that you'd slept in all their beds at some point but never since your feelings for Minho had developed so much had you stayed in his. Never after you'd felt like you'd embarrassed yourself beyond repair in one evening either. Not realizing you were sniffling with a fresh batch of tears until Minho returned.

"Hey what's wrong rose? You've been upset all day. Please talk to me, we don't like when you're upset." Minho's brow furrows as he uses the paw of his sweater to gently wipe away the tears again.

"I-It's just so hard Minho. I don't know if I keep doing this." You feel exhausted from the alcohol, the excitement throughout the evening, and now an emotional breakdown too and yet you needed to get this off your chest or even that might not be enough to let you get rest tonight.

"What is? What's hard? What can't you do?" Minho asks feeling his heart bleed at your distress even if he was able to stay as calm as he was.

"L-Loving you...."

You had passed out nearly the moment those words had left your lips, but Minho couldn’t, not after your confession. It had been the last thing he’d seen coming after trying not to look desperate to you all day. Yet you’d confessed to him of all people and it weighed too heavily on his mind for the next two hours to even consider getting any sleep. Only getting maybe two hours in before an excited Jeongin bound in to try and wake you both up so everyone could come downstairs for Christmas. Though Minho ensured he never got to you before he shoved him out with hushing sound. Slipping down behind him to grab some water, coffee, and pain meds for when you’d wake up. Telling the boys you’d had a rough night, probably drank too much, and should be left alone to sleep as long as you needed. Not expecting you to already be shifting awake when he returned to the room. 

“Hey, you can sleep more if you want. It’s alright.” Minho gently brushes the hair out of your face as your eyes slowly blink open, leaning into the warmth of his touch without realizing, “I brought you meds and coffee if you’re felling hungover.”

You accept his help to sit up and take the meds, willing your fuzzy mind to clear enough to recall what happened the night before, “Minho...d-did I do anything last night? I-I can’t remember.”

Minho froze debating how he should answer that, he wanted to be honest with you, but after seeing how upset you were the night before he didn’t want to embarrass you at all, “W-Well, umm....”

“I-I said something didn’t I?” You could read his face for once, the calm demeanor gone and it telling you something had happened. The way his eyes widened at your question was enough to confirm what you thought as panic bubbled up and made your throat feel tight, “W-Whatever I said I didn’t-”

Minho cut you off by pressing his lips to yours quickly, feeling his own panic, “P-Please don’t say that you didn’t mean it. I think I would die if I lost the hope that you actually loved me back.”

The panic stopped almost instantly, feeling it dissipate as you processed his words, “L-Love you back?....Y-You mean you love me too? B-But you were acting like I was such a bother yesterday.”

Minho sits on the bed, pulling you into his arms before you could cry again, “I didn’t mean for it to come off that way. I-I just didn’t want to look desperate when I couldn’t think of a reason for you to love me too.” 

“You’re an idiot, I was literally like so obvious.” You whine softly and he chuckles though his focus seems to shift as his gaze falls to your lips, “You can kiss me again you know....a-after all we both just confessed so it would make sense to...”

Minho’s eyes flick back up to yours as a smirk forms on his face, but he makes no smart comment as he gives in to what both of you are wanting. Leaning in to kiss you again, less panicked this time as his lips softly meld with yours. Though the both of you were pouring too much emotion into it for it to become anything less than desperate. Now that you had each other you needed that more than air itself, it remaining sweet despite the way you both chased after each other as if afraid this would all disappear if you separated for any real stretch of time.  You feel the faintest trail as Minho’s hands move from holding you against his chest to cradling your head as he lays you back onto the bed. 

“If you want to take things slower then just say so. I-I just don’t want to let you go.” Minho’s voice comes out so light you wonder how you hear it over the beating of your own heart, especially with how it races when his lips press a fleeting trail down your jaw between his words. 

“Y-You don’t ever have to slow down Minho, I’ve wanted this.....wanted you for too long to do that now.” You insist with a low moan as his lips press a little firmer against a sweet spot on your neck.

Minho hums against your skin too caught up in you to care about words when he could show you how he felt better anyways. His hands gripping at your sides, thumbs rubbing soft circles as if he’s afraid he’ll break you by being too firm. So you decide to make a larger move, reaching to grip the hem of his sweater and pull it off him, letting your hands and eyes roam his newly exposed skin. The feel of his warm skin beneath your fingertips heating you up inside, the flame of desire flaring up faster than you would have thought possible if the person before you had been anyone other than Minho. Minho’s hands gripping yours before looking up at you for permission, hesitating even as you nod.

“You sure you won’t be too cold?” Minho’s fingers peak under the hem to rub gently at your skin beneath it.

“Well if I am then I guess you’ll just have to warm me up.” Your words seem to light the same fire in Minho as he doesn’t hesitate a second longer to his sweater off you. Hands running over your stomach to squeeze your breasts through the bra, leaning down to kiss you again.

“Guess I will.” Minho speaks against your lips, tone deepening as he lowers again moving to rid you of your bra as his lips trail towards your chest. You nipples pebbling slightly from the frigid air and his advances, but noticing the unpleasant chill that runs through you he presses against you more, letting his warmth radiate onto you. His warm mouth closing around your one nipple as his hand toys with and warms the other, switching between them with a new path of kisses to make sure they get equal attention.  Until he gets impatient to show his affections elsewhere and his mouth lowers while adding soft nips between kisses to reach the hem of the sweatpants he gave you to wear. His fingers nimble as they work on the tie, though he doesn’t do more than that until he has permission from you to pull them down and leave you in only your panties.

“Oh the thoughts I had while helping you get untangled from your shirt last night my flower, and to think now a few of them are becoming reality.” Minho places a kiss to your hip, as his hands gently spread your legs, loving the way he’s able to fluster you so easily, “I’ve been dying for a taste and you’re not making it any easier for me. May I?” 

The way he drags his thumb over the wet patch of your panties makes it hard to respond when you’re moaning and focused on that surge of pleasure, but the thought of getting something more urges you to form words, “Y-Yes please, I’ve been wanting to feel your mouth.”

“All you had to do was ask precious.” Minho gently blows against the wet patch making you squirm before kissing your thigh and slipping off your panties and lowering himself between your legs, placing the gentlest of kisses to your clit. The way you whine impatiently makes him chuckle against your core only making you squirm, his thumbs rubbing softly against your plush thighs as he grips them firmly to keep them open instead of impeding his work. He has no intent on tormenting you with teasing, not this morning anyways, but he still wants to savor the moment. The way he licks through your folds slow yet firm enough to spark delicious waves of pleasure through you, enough so that you can’t complain too much about his pace. Minho’s tongue and lips working everywhere to get every last drop of you that he can, while also focusing on your reactions to find what makes you feel the best. Knowing that his own patience will wear thin soon enough and he wants to know how to throw you over that sweet edge with more intensity than you thought possible, wanting to make all of you feel as amazing as his heart did upon hearing your confession. 

“M-Minho please, I want to feel all of you.” Desperation bleeds into your words and actions as you squirm against his grip, hips trying to roll against his mouth and it has his eyes darkening with a new surge of lust. Nearly giving into you pleas, but you’re his first priority and it has him pulling away slightly making you whimper.

“Shh pretty girl, shh.” Minho coos softly, grip loosening as he runs his hands over your thighs and hips trying to get you to relax some, “Calm down, don’t get so worked up. I’ll give you what you want, I promise. You just need to calm down so that I can get you ready for me. We’ve waited a long time I know, but you can be good and wait just a little longer can’t you?”

This time a simple nod isn’t enough for him as he’s a little firmer with you in this moment, pinching your thigh lightly as he demands your words, “Y-Yes sir, I can be good for you.”

Minho has to take a deep, shuttering breath when he hears the word sir fall from your lips so perfectly, now was not the time to lose control, not when he wanted to show you every emotion he’d had trapped inside for so long. Not when he knew there’d be plenty of time for that later. Yet, it does have him snap a little as he dives between your legs again with more purpose. Lips suckling and kissing your clit like his survival depended on it, eyes locked on your face as he feels your fingers weave into his hair. The soft tug you give has him moaning against your clit, only adding to that pleasure as he eases a finger in, though it’s not long before he’s able to add another. Curling them with each thrust in search of the spot that would have you trembling against him, thriving off the pleasure he’d able to feed you right now, nothing else in the world mattering more than your cries for him and the way you lose yourself to the sensations. He knows he’s found that spot, when you’re clenching around him, practically sucking his fingers in, thighs shaking as your edge hovers so close and yet just barely out of reach. 

“Minho, please I’m close. Please make me cum or give me your cock, I-I don’t know how much longer I can wait.” Your pleas sound magical to Minho, it being enough for him to give you what you want, speeding up his fingers as his tongue flicks against your clit as he brings it between his lips again. Willing to throw your over the edge for the first time, so that he can have you losing his own patience as your nails drag lightly over his shoulders. The was you fall apart beneath him is like a work of art, the most beautiful Minho has ever seen as he slips his fingers from your spasming core to gently lick over you and ride you through the pleasure until you come back to him. Kissing you briefly before licking his fingers clean while keeping his eyes locked on yours.

“You’re sweeter than I ever could have imagined my flower.” Minho hums in approval, his smirk almost showing more in his eyes than on his lips. You’re quick to respond though not wanting him to drag it out any longer.

“I bet we’d taste sweeter together, but there’s only one way to find that out now isn’t there?” You purr back as your fingers work to untie his sweatpants, gripping both them and his undergarments to impatiently push both down at once. Freeing his beautiful, hardened length to you finally. Not giving him to to ask for your permission before you rub his tip through your folds, leg locking around his waist to urge his hips closer. Your actions seem to be enough as he places his hands on either side of you, slowly pushing in and leaning in as he gives you a moment to adjust to him.

“You were awfully loud earlier flower, if you don’t quiet down then all the boys will know what we’ve been up to. Do you want that?” Minho’s question is somewhat serious, but it also holds a teasing to it as he’s proud of the fact that he can make you feel good enough to be so loud. You getting him back by rolling your hips against him and earning a groan from him. Hands slipping around his neck to tug him down and tease his lips with your own.

“Why don’t you shut me up then?” Your words are almost daring and they have him crashing his lips messily against yours as his own hips start to move against you. The patience between you both is gone as he finds a quick pace and yet he’s not manhandling or overly rough in his treatment, the erotic scene still one of passionate lovers. Baring their emotions to each other in the most desperate of ways despite not being able to handle a slow pace any longer. It being everything you could have asked for and more, right now you didn’t need the soft, slow lovemaking. You need this the desperate lovemaking, the kind that showed that Minho had been longing for you just as much as you’d been longing for him. The kind that showed that you were his now and that he would show you that in every way possible for as long as you would ask it of him. Where every move he made was to find what made you feel best, because you were what he most cared for in this world and where it was so much better than he could have imagined that he wasn’t sure if he could hold off. Though he was intent on your pleasure coming first as he angled himself to perfectly hit the spots he found brought you the most pleasure with each drag of his cock, thumb rubbing quick circles into your clit as his other hand tangled into your hair to keep your lips pressed against his. Taking in all of your moans as your pleasure explodes once more, the feeling of you cumming on his cock enough to send him spiraling into his own high as he moans into your mouth in response. Slowing his thrusts as he rides you both through your highs. Hands gently tracing shapes over your heated flesh, finding you glowing in the aftermath of your climax.

“Come on my flower, I’ll help you shower before we join the others.” Minho kisses your forehead softly before scooping you up to take you to the bathroom. Getting you in the steaming shower as quickly as he can so that you won’t have to face the cold while bare for too long and so that you two can be quick enough to be able to get some food in before the others ate everything. Not that he wouldn’t cook you up a good breakfast if it came down to it. Willing to shower you in all affections imaginable after what you both had just done. Though before long Minho had you both cleaned up and in warm fresh clothes, going down the stairs to join the others.

“Weren’t you wearing something different this morning?” Jisung questions Minho slyly as if they hadn’t all heard what you two had been up to earlier. Minho knew what he meant, but still didn’t give him the satisfaction.

“Yeah well I took a shower, so I put on something else.” Minho shrugs pulling out a seat for you, before taking his own so you two could eat breakfast as well.

“Oh did Y/N shower too? Her hair is all damp still.” Jisung innocently inquires taking a bite of his pancake trying to hide his smug expression. Minho gently moving your damp hair away from your bare skin so that it wouldn’t get too chilled.

“Well then you obviously know the answer.” Minho rolls his eyes adding his portion of whipped cream and other sweet toppings to your plate instead of his own.

“Hm I just find that interesting considering we only heard one shower running.” Jisung smirks at you both as the others snicker and chuckle, teasing you all through breakfast while exchanging knowing looks. 

The teasing had died down some later as you all gathered around to exchange gifts. Feeling your heart stutter as you hold Minho’s in your hands, the man seeming flustered as you go to open it. Finding a small necklace inside one that looked like a lifeline with a heart at the end, flipping it over to find his initials on the back besides yours. 

“So if things had been different this would have been when I confessed.” He admits in a soft whisper into your ear,  a blush adorning his cheeks so beautifully as you laugh softly.

“It’s alright I liked the way things turned out much better anyways.” Minho admits before the guys pretend to gag and whine at all the pda they were witnessing.

“Alright enough of the mushy stuff, you have to open mine next.” Hyunjin dramatically insists shoving his gift in front of you, a pretty envelope sitting on top and beckoning you to open the card first. Your attention immediately drawn to a special little note at the bottom...

PS. Minho’s name was the only one in that hat.

“Well guess I ruined your little plan huh?” You tease, flustering along with him as he presses a soft kiss to your cheek in front of everyone.

[onewithnomightypowers]

clandestine (chapter 7)

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 7: rabbit hole

A/N: i do not encourage cheating. omg THE LAST CHAPTER!!!! i hope you guys like this chapter!! feedback is always appreciated. thanks for reading <3

warnings: drinking, cursing, hate comments

word count: 1.6k

important: bold and italic are character thoughts

series masterlist   main masterlist   chapter 6

Love, easy it comes and easy it goes. Y/N and Haz’ calamitous love had no tracks ahead of it. The only thing they could do was jump off the train before it crashed and burned. Y/N took that step and fell on Tom’s doorstep. When Haz saw her leave, he understood that hurt couldn’t save a dying soul, so he jumped too, causing their marriage to fall off a hill.

They left the hobbit’s room with a sea of change in their aura. Both had bloodshot eyes from all the rivers they swam through. “I will go settle the tab”, Haz said without meeting her eyes. Y/N walked towards her driver, Arnold, who was standing near the main entrance, eager to tell her about the situation outside.

“There is a herd of paparazzi out there, ma’am”, he said.

Y/N hummed in acknowledgment.

“Shall we go?” Haz walked over to them.

“Yeah”, her voice was small and dry.

Arnold opened the door and stayed ahead to make way for them in between the storm of people. They were all screaming something over one another, making it hard to understand. Haz and Y/N had their heads down, trying to hide the stained cheeks from the blinding lights. Haz clutched Y/N’s hand protectively, out of habit.

They made their way inside the car, parked not so far away from the pub.

“You can stay with me tonight, you’re leaving for New York tomorrow morning anyway”, Y/N said looking outside the window.

“It's fine Y/N, I can get a hotel room”

“No, I insist”, her eyes focused on the lamp heads passing them by.

“Okay, I’ll take the couch”

“You can sleep on the bed, with me”

Haz found Y/N’s hand in the dark backseat and squeezed it affectionately.

That night was the last time they slept together in the same bed. When Y/N woke up the next morning, he was already gone. He left a note on the refrigerator that read, ‘thank you for everything’. A bittersweet smile took over her face.

Y/N needed some time to herself, but she also needed to inform people about her decision. She craft an email to her manager, agent and her lawyer. All of them were sent the exact same email.

Harrison and I have decided to end our marriage. I would like to file for divorce as soon as possible, and the process should be civil. I will be unavailable for a few days, so do what you have to with the news.

Y/N

She also sent her parents that email but as a text on the family group chat.

It’s short and to the point, let’s hope they don’t call me with a million questions.

When it came to Tom, she noticed that he had sent her an image a few seconds ago. It was a screenshot of a TMZ article. The headline was, ‘Y/N left her movie premiere early to meet her husband’, it wasn’t jarring but the photo underneath the headline was. Haz was holding Y/N’s hand as tightly he physically could, both of their bodies looked tired and Y/N’s makeup was all messed up. She hadn’t noticed any of that in the moment, last night.

Tom sent her another text.

Tom: Are you ok?

Y/N: not really, I’m filing for divorce

Tom: oh, do you want me to come over?

Y/N: I think I want some time to myself right now

Y/N: I’ll probably watch Gilmore girls the whole weekend

Tom: ok, I’m here if you need anything

Tom: love you

Y/N: you too

---

On Monday, the news broke. The whole world now knew that their marriage was over. The news outlets tried their best to be creative with headlines.

‘Their kingdom has come and gone: Harrison and Y/N file for divorce’

‘Harrison and Y/N, Hollywood’s perfect couple not so perfect anymore’

These were some of the most impressive ones according to Y/N’s management team but they decided to keep it to themselves. No one had heard from Y/N since Saturday. Even though she had told them that she would be unavailable, they still sent emails, warning her to stay off social media sites, especially twitter, the creator of hate wagons.

Twitter was not kind to her at all. Their divorce was trending in the entertainment section. Many people thought that it was their right to comment on this situation. They had a lot to say, mostly about Y/N.

Y/N would often find herself diving into the rabbit hole of her trending tag. She would read almost everything they had to say about her, the good and the bad, but the bad overwhelmed the good.

‘She was only in it to get famous’

‘She ugly if I was Harrison then I would drop that ass too’

‘She is so fake’

‘Harrison is better off without her’

‘She was def cheating on him’

‘Why would someone even love Y/N’

She didn’t notice, but this was getting to her. She would constantly stare at her reflection, picking her appearance apart because someone on the internet called her ugly. Y/N would rethink everything she ever said in front of the media wondering whether she sounded fake or not. She would wake in the middle of the night, pacing like a ghost, thinking she didn’t deserve Tom at all and that he would realise soon enough.

All would be lost.

Even though she thought no one noticed that she was slowly losing her mind, Tom did. He would look at her touching her face, getting lost in deep thoughts. He could feel her tossing and turning in the bed, every night. He would look through her while she’s looking through her phone. Her leg would never stop fidgeting while at rest. He noticed everything.

He took it upon himself to save her from the demons. It was late evening, Tom picked Y/N up from the set. The whole ride home, Y/N was on her phone, mindlessly scrolling through her twitter, reading every inch and every corner. No words could escape her.

When they reached home Y/N informed Tom that she was going to take a shower. Tom was in the kitchen getting the food ready, when he saw Y/N’s phone unattended on the kitchen island. He was tempted to go through with his plan.

He picked up her phone and unlocked it, he knew her password. He went on deleting every social media app from her phone and also changed his contact DP on her phone. Earlier it was an embarrassing childhood photo, he changed it to a scanned Polaroid photo of them together.

Y/N came out with a towel tied up her head. She grabbed two plates from the cabinet and set them on the island.

“What are you making?” she asks him.

“Rice paper rolls”

“So we’re having Vietnamese today, interesting”, she grabbed her phone to check her Instagram.

Where the fuck are all my apps?

“I think my phone has some defect, the Instagram and twitter apps got deleted”, Y/N says vigorously swiping through her phone.

“That’s not a defect I did that”, Tom served the dinner.

“You did what? You have no right to go through my phone and delete apps without my permission, Tom.”

“It’s for your own good, all of that shit was getting to your head”, he said calmly.

“No it wasn’t” she poorly defended herself.

“Yes it was, you were letting some random divs tell you what you are worth. That’s fucked up, babe”

She lets out a loud grunt, filled with frustration.

They both ate in silence, only the crunch of vegetables audible.

After Tom was done with his dinner, he got up, placed his dish in the sink, picked up his coat from the sofa and walked towards the door. Y/N’s eyes never stopped following his figure.

“I think I should go back to my apartment”, before Y/N could reply, Tom was out of the door.

They didn’t talk for a day but Y/N realised how peaceful she felt without having other people’s opinions being fed to her constantly. She felt less insecure about her body, her personality and especially Tom.

He loves me so much that he was ready to invade my privacy to help me.

She decides to call Tom, noticing the unfamiliar photo on his contact. The phone rung, he picked it up on the second ring.

“You little shit changed your photo, huh” her smile was audible.

“I did and I’m sorry”

“No, I’m sorry. You were right, I do feel better with all the noise gone, but you know what would make me feel much better, you, here with me”

---

Tom came over almost instantly, it was like he was already halfway to her apartment when she called. They were on the couch, watching a movie on Y/N’s laptop. Y/N had her head on Tom’s lap and he was playing with her hair.

Holding her breath, Y/N slowly said, “You didn’t need to save me, you know”

“I know”, he replies nonchalantly.

“But the real question is, would you run away with me?”

“Of course, where to darling?”

“Somewhere no one can find us and it’s only the two of us”, she scrunches her face.

“Do you remember the first time we kissed, at the pub?”

“Yeah”, she replied, fondly remembering that moment.

“You said we should go to Ireland together and I said don’t make empty promises”

“Well, do you want to run away to Ireland with me?”

“Yes”, he bent downwards and kissed her softly.

THE END

@mysticapples17 @storybookholland @flqwsome  @hollandstanevans

[bonjour-rainycity]

Double Heart | Chapter Twenty-One ~ Cosima

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 4032

Warnings: None

A/n Hello! Sorry I’ve been absent! Life got a little crazy with family visiting and school starting again, but I’m happy to be back! I’ll see you again Wednesday with the regularly-scheduled update :)

I wake with my face buried in the crook of someone’s neck. Pushing against the solid mattress, I raise myself up and try to remember where I am. But the solidness beneath me isn’t the mattress at all. It’s Haldir’s chest. I sit up straighter, realizing that, in the night, I’d pulled myself almost completely on top of him.

He moves as he chuckles, bringing a hand up to tuck my surely wild hair behind my ear. I look down to find him smiling up at me, looking much more awake than I feel. “Good morning.”

I purse my lips, trying not to show how much I enjoy the sight of him in my bed, the feeling of waking up with him. I lower myself back down, settling against his side. His arm wraps around me automatically, securing me in place.

“Good morning,” I reply, tucking my chin against his sternum. “How did you sleep?”

He chuckles, lazily running his fingers up and down my arm. “Better than you can imagine. Though I did have an elbow digging into my stomach, there were, amazingly, no snores. And your bed is so much more comfortable than mine.”

I grin, twisting so I can better see his face. “Well, if you can suffer through being stabbed in the stomach all night, you are welcome to share my comfy bed any time you like.” I furrow my eyebrows, considering. “For the next two nights, I guess. After that, you’re welcome to share the grass beside my bedroll.”

He throws his head back in laughter, the sight so beautiful that my own giggles dies as I take the time to stare at him. How can he be so carefree and joyful when he knows his death is only a few decades ahead of him?

Our conversations last night pretty much disintegrated my resolve to end things with him, not that I had much resolve from the moment we actually allowed ourselves to be together. So weak, I chide myself. But, as Haldir has reminded me time and time again, he is an adult and can make his own choices. I have to respect that, just as he has respected that for me on numerous occasions.

But part of me worries I’m just using that as an excuse to justify my selfishness.

Because no matter how well I love him, how much joy I bring him, how happy I make his life, I will always be the one causing his death. He’s not doing the same for me. I’m the one who will kill him.

Haldir moves his fingers from my arm to my hair, tangling his fingers in the waves. I love it when he does that.

He smiles at me, distracting me from my gloomy thoughts. “I am excited for you to see Lothlórien. What do you have left to do before we leave?”

I sigh, shrugging and leaning against him. “Not much. I’ve got to tell Alex about us, hopefully he’ll take it well, but you know how he can be. I imagine Lavandil already knows, but I would still like to talk with her. After that, just packing, but I can probably put that off until tomorrow night. Packing will be easy — oh, that reminds me — do you have an extra bag I could use? That’s actually what I went up to your room to get the other night, but you confessed your love for me which was really inconvenient, because I never did get that bag.”

He laughs again, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “Please accept my most sincere apologies. Before any future proclamations of love, I shall ask if there is something you need to cross off your to-do list, first.”

“Thank you,” I huff, feigning relief. “That’s all I ask.” Once our laughter dies down, I turn the question back to him. “What about you?”

I feel him shift under me as he stretches to look toward the curtains pulled over the window s, likely trying to gauge the time by the rays of sun peeking through. “I have a few meetings lined up, as well as continued training with the guard. They’re in quite good shape, but you can never be too prepared. And, as much as I hate to say it, I must get up.” He rolls so I am under him and places a sweet kiss to my forehead. “I have stayed in bed far too long.”

I grin up at him, catching his lips in a proper kiss before following him from the warmth of the blankets. “If you must.” I eye my closed door, now fully aware that we are well into the morning hours. I cross my arms, shifting my weight between my feet. “People will see you leaving my room.”

He looks up at me, back leaned against the wall as he pulls on his boots and laces them up. “Yes?”

I shrug, taking a few steps closer to him. “Well, they’ll talk.”

He raises an eyebrow, the beginnings of a smirk playing on the edges of his lips. “Would you like me to exit via window?”

I laugh and shake my head. “No.”

“Then let them talk.” He places his foot on the ground and meets me in the center of the room. “I’ve no intention of hiding you.”

I grin broadly, surprised by how much that sentence pleases me, and pull him down for a final kiss. “See you after dinner for training?”

“Yes,” he nods, letting his hand trail over my waves as he backs towards the door. “Your armor should be done by then. I’ll bring it with me.”

“I’m not wearing it,” I shout through the open door as he passes through.

“Yes, you are,” he calls back in a confident, almost lilting voice.

I grumble.

“Ah, good morning Ríneth.”

I freeze. Guess the cat’s out of the bag.

“G-good morning, Marchwarden,” comes the stunned response. As the attendant passes my open door, she sneaks a look, her eyes widening when she sees me standing in the center of the room. I raise a hand and wave.

She scurries off.

Stifling a chuckle, I close the door and head to the bathroom to get ready for one of my last days in Imladris.

{***}

I decide to tell Alex first. Between him, Lavandil, and Baranor, Alex is the most likely to have a sour reaction, so I’d prefer to just get that over with.

He welcomes me in after one knock and I try to contain my surprise, immediately noticing the explosion of books, scrolls, and papers scattered across his room.

I step over a large pile of volumes to make it through the entryway. “Wow.”

“Yeah.” He grins sheepishly, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “Elrond said I could take some books with me, but they’re too bulky to travel with, so I’m trying to copy down as much as I can before we go.”

I nod, trying to find an area clear of stuff large enough for me to place my feet. “I bet Lothlórien has a good library.”

“I hope,” he agrees, bending to move some books so I have space. “But what’s up?”

“Um,” I press my lips together, suddenly feeling very, very nervous. My hands twist themselves in and out of each other as I look for anything to distract myself from the way my heart races. “I wanted to tell you…” Just get it over with. “Haldir and I are — together.” I wince. That doesn’t even begin to encompass how I feel about him, but how the heck do I describe our relationship?

Alex raises an eyebrow, setting the books in his hands down on the chest of drawers. “Yeah, for a while, right?”

I blink. Of all the reactions, I hadn’t expected that. “What?”

He tilts his head. “Wait, this happened recently?”

“Uh, yeah,” I huff, a little put out that he’s been thinking I’ve been secretly with Haldir and just hadn’t said anything about it. “What made you think it happened earlier?”

Alex shrugs, throwing his hands in his pockets. “Well, I don’t know, it was just kinda obvious something was there. I assumed the two of you acted on it around the time we got to Imladris and have just been trying to keep it a secret or something.”

“Wha—um,” I sputter, completely floored. “We’ve been avoiding each other for three months,” I defend, suddenly self-conscious of my apparently obvious feelings.

“Yeah,” Alex shrugs again, hauling a bag filled with books onto his bed. “I thought that was part of it — pretend to avoid each other to quiet the rumors, but then meet up when no one was paying attention.”

“Rumors,” I squeak, not liking the sound of that.

“Well, I didn’t hear any,” he corrects, noticing my panic. “I just, you know — the two of you seemed to click. I figured other people noticed it, too.”

He’s not wrong about that, I think, remembering Lavandil’s excitement and, before he changed his mind due to my mortality, Rumil’s.

Alex speaks again, the slightest shift in his tone. “I also figured that, well, your attachment to him is what was making you want to stay here and not work so hard to get home. Because, honestly Cosima, I can’t wrap my head around any other reason that would be strong enough to keep you away from your own world.”

“Oh. Right.” I look down at my hands, guilt buzzing in my stomach.

“But now that it’s official, I’m guessing you’ve decided?” Alex comes to stand in front of me, arms crossed in front of his chest. He doesn’t look angry, like I thought he would, just resigned.

I sigh, hating the disappointment I know I’m causing him. “Yes. I will help you figure out how to get home if you still want that, but I—I’m staying here.”

He nods, his jaw tightening. “And when I get home, what should I tell your family?”

I suck in a sharp breath. Ouch. I drop my hands to my sides, pleading with him. “Can we just—not? Please? I don’t remember them, Alex, I don’t even know if they exist, aside from nonna, who passed away five years ago. And here…well…” I sigh, mind drifting to Haldir and Lavandil and Rumil and Orophin and Baranor, and even Glorfindel. “My family—the family I chose—they’re all in Arda.”

Alex nods slowly, regarding me thoughtfully. “Can’t say I didn’t try.”

I try to ease the hurt. I don’t want him to be sad. “But I’ll keep helping you, I promise. If there’s a way home, we’ll find it.”

He sighs and then smiles, though it looks tired. “Yeah. Yeah you’re right. Thanks, Cosi.” He steps forward and pulls me into a hug, the action surprising me. Blinking against the shock, I wrap my arms around his shoulders, holding him tight. “I suck at showing it, but I am happy for you, you know,” he whispers, squeezing my shoulders.

He releases me then, and I smile up at him. “Thank you.”

{***}

After my unexpected conversation with Alex, it’s time to find Lavandil.

It’s not difficult.

Her high-pitched giggle catches me on the way to lunch, her hands whirling me around into a wall of curls. She surprises me by grabbing me in the briefest of hugs, then pulls away, gripping me tightly by the shoulders.

“I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! Orophin told me last night — he’s upset of course, but he does acknowledge that he’s never seen Haldir as happy as he is when he’s with you! And I honestly think Orophin just needs time. Bottom line, he wants Haldir to be happy and loved, and you’re doing just that. But okay, now that that’s out of the way, you must tell me everything.”

I laugh, trying to catch up with her enthusiasm and rapid-fire words. I pull her to the side of the hallway, closer to the stone wall. People are, of course, bound to find out as the week goes on, but I’d rather not shout the details of what I consider to be my most cherished moment. In a hushed voice, I recount the night Haldir and I decided to go for it, Lavandil squealing and grinning through the whole thing.

“That is so sweet,” she gushes, eyes bright. “Who knew Haldir had such a way with words!”

“I know, right,” I agree, pleased to finally be able to talk about this with one of my best friends. “And kissing him?” I place a hand over my heart in a mock swoon, earning me a delighted laugh. “I could do that forever.” But then I bite my lip, not sure how she’ll react to what I’m going to tell her next. “He uh—spent the night last night.”

Lavandil’s eyes blow wide. “Did you—”

“No.” I hurry to clear that up. “But, I mean…it’s difficult not to want to…” I sigh, feeling much better upon seeing her understanding nod. She gets it. “How do you and Orophin manage? For eight years?”

She grins somewhat bashfully. “Well, it does help that we don’t see each other very often. And a lot of times, we have to stop ourself before we end up getting married without a second thought. But it all just comes down to us acknowledging the reality of our situation — we don’t want to get married and live apart, but neither of us was ready to give up our homes, families, or careers, not until recently, so we had to wait to take that step. It was a decision we were both okay with for a while. But now…” She shrugs, her smile softens and a faraway look enters her eye. “That time is over. He’s staying here with me, and it’s the best feeling in the world.”

I smile at her, happy for my friend. “Do you…” I tread carefully, not sure how much more I can ask without intruding, “think you’ll get married then?”

“Oh, for sure,” she grins, crossing her arms over her chest. “And soon. All our reasons not to have conveniently been taken care of.”

I take her hand in mine and give it a quick squeeze. “I’m happy for you.”

“I’m happy for me, too, she jokes, winking cheekily. We laugh, and then she dissolves back into her interrogation of me. Dutifully, I answer each and every one.

{***}

When it’s dark outside, Haldir knocks on my door. In his hand, he carries a dark brown bag that makes a suspicious clanging sound with every step he takes. I eye it warily. He smiles, bringing the palm of my hand to his mouth for a kiss. “I’m sorry it’s so late. The drills ran long.”

I shrug, pulling him farther into my room and shutting the door behind him. “Don’t worry about it. I was with Lavandil until about an hour ago, anyway.”

He looks at me, a note of hesitation in his eyes. “And how did that go?”

“Better than expected,” I laugh in relief. “She’s very happy for us and says Orophin shows signs of feeling better. I talked to Alex too — can you believe it, he thought we’ve been together for months!”

At this, Haldir raises his eyebrows, shaking his head. “What would give him that impression? We avoided each other for almost the entire time we’ve been in Imladris.”

“That’s what I said!” I hold up a hand to stop him. “But I’m actually not going to talk to you any more until you open that bag. I need to decide if I’m going to be mad at you or not.”

He grins broadly, setting the bag gently on the ground. “I don’t know why you would be mad when all I’ve done is bring you a present.” Haldir reaches inside and draws out silver chainmail.

“Well, take it back,” I grumble, having correctly guessed the contents of the bag. I cross my arms over my chest.

“See?” Haldir smiles, straightening with the chainmail in hand. “It’s not as bad as you thought. It can even be worn under your clothes if you like.”

I grimace, taking a step forward and running a hand over the cool metal. Experimentally, I gather the bottom of the piece and hold it in both of my hands. It’s heavy. I look up at Haldir, unimpressed. “There’s no way this is comfortable.”

He shrugs. “You’ll get used to it. Besides, I’d rather have you uncomfortable and alive than comfortable and dead.” He steps forward, presses a kiss to my temple, then walks past me to lay the chainmail over my table.

I sigh. He’s just trying to keep me safe. “Alright, fine,” I acquiesce, following him further into my room. I step in front of him, trying to will my annoyance away. “Thank you for doing that.”

He smiles softly, though there’s a hint of humor in his eyes as he knows the effort I’m putting into making my tone polite. “You are very welcome. Now — go stand in the center of the room. I want to go over a few more techniques before we pause training to travel. And tomorrow, we’ll practice with the chainmail.”

I groan.

{***}

Haldir stays with me for the remaining two nights in Imladris. It’s very convenient — not only do I love having him with me, but it gives him and Rumil some much-needed space.

Over the course of our remaining days, we only had a few things on our to-do list: Inform Baranor of the development in our relationship — he didn’t seem surprised, just like he was making a very conscious effort to appear happy for us—prepare the horses, and pack our belongings and adequate provisions for the journey. On the morning of our departure, we’re set to meet at the bridge that marks the entrance to the city. Haldir leaves me while it’s still dark, kissing me while I’m half asleep and telling me goodbye. He went to ensure the horses were ready and ‘tie up a couple of loose ends,’ as he put it.

Despite the desire to sleep in, I rise with the sun, knowing we don’t have long before we leave. When I spot the chainmail laid over my table, I begrudgingly pull it on under my clothes, knowing Haldir will just send me back to get it if I don’t. It’s heavier than I want it to be, but he’s right — if we were attacked, it would provide an additional measure of protection. I don’t have to tell him that, though. Once I’m dressed, all that’s left to do is say my goodbyes and get on the horse.

I don’t want to say goodbye.

Lavandil meets me at my door. Wordlessly, she shoulders one of my bags and walks with me to the front of the estate. We step onto the lush grass, which still glints with the morning dew. Soon, autumn will creep in and the green of Imladris will turn into brilliant reds, golds, and oranges—or so my friends tell me. I hope that I will get to see it one day.

At the start of the bridge waits the rest of my company. I notice Haldir off to the side with both Orophin and Rumil. Unlike his brothers, Rumil doesn’t look up or wish us good morning. That stings—bad—but at least he’s talking to his brothers.

I search for Alex and, with a note of surprise, find him behind the horses, speaking with Elrond. I raise an eyebrow, but don’t investigate. If Alex wants to tell me about their conversation, he can.

Lavandil and I approach Faervel, who whinnies in recognition. Since Orophin is staying in Imladris, his horse is as well. Horses are apparently quite fond of their owners, so we agreed not to hurt any of them by pulling them away from their home and taking them back to Lothlórien. That means Alex still rides with Baranor and I will ride with Haldir — for now. Maybe if Rumil ends up forgiving me, I can ride Roch at some point.

I loop my bag into the straps on the edge of the saddle, securing it in place. Lavandil does the same with my other bag, tying it on Faervel’s back.

Someone behind me clears their throat, and both Lavandil and I turn around.

Elrond smiles in greeting, inclining his head. “Lavandil, would you mind if I had a moment alone with Cosima?”

“Of course,” she smiles, waving at me as she hurries off to join Orophin. This isn’t goodbye, I remind myself. I’ll catch her again before I leave.

Elrond pats Faervel on the head. “Cosima, I wish you safe travels.”

“Thank you,” I reply.

“Promise me,” he continues, voice turning serious, “that when you arrive in Lothlórien, you will speak to Lady Galadriel without delay. I believe she can help you and Alexander.”

I agree readily. Elrond has been so kind and helpful, of course I’ll do as he asks.

“Good.” He nods. “And, well…” he sighs, sadness entering his ageless eyes. “I pray to the Valar that you will have a happy, fulfilling life.”

Despite the well-wish, grief collects in his features and I suck in a breath, remembering exactly who his daughter is and who she loves.

I open my mouth to say — what? That I’m sorry? That I wish it were someone else? What can I say to an ellon whose daughter will die for the same reason Haldir will?  

I close my mouth.

Because no, there is nothing to say.

Elrond inclines his head in understanding and steps back, bidding a final farewell to us all before returning to his estate.

Rumil, Baranor, and Alex mount their horses.

It seems there is no more time to waste. Lavandil comes to stand in front of me, sniffling. “I guess this is goodbye.”

Tears enter my own eyes and I bite my lip, desperately not wanting them to escape and betray how sad I feel.

“The shop won’t be the same without you,” she whispers. Then, in a movement so fast I barely register the change, she flings her arms around my shoulders, drawing me in for a brief, tight hug. “Be happy.”

I pull back, smiling despite my sadness. “You too. Write to me?”

“Of course.” She gives me a watery laugh and tosses her curls over her shoulder. “Who else can we complain about them to?” She jerks a thumb in the direction of Haldir and Orophin, who put on identical expressions of affronted disbelief, and I break into actual laughter.

But when our laughter fades, Lavandil falls back, stepping out of the way of the horses and into Orophin’s outstretched arms.

Haldir walks up next to me. He crouches, ready to help me on the horse and, before I can look at the sadness on Lavandil’s face and burst into tears of my own, I put my boot in his hand, allowing myself to swing onto Faervel’s back. In the next moment, Haldir lands in front of me, taking the reins in his hands.

“Now what are all these tears about?”

I jump, startled by the loud, unexpected voice.

None other than Glorfindel, followed by four armored members of Imaldris’s guard, gallop down the path.

My golden friend sidles his horse next to Faervel, winking at me. “Good news, my dear lady, we shall not be parted so soon! Your commander—or should I say lover, now—” both Haldir and I make a face at the term, “asked for an escort through the mountain pass. My troops and I are happy to oblige.”

Haldir nods to him, serious despite Glorfindel’s exuberance. “Thank you for coming.”

Glorfindel smiles, returning Haldir’s nod. “Of course, mellon nîn.” He calls out a command and our company, much larger now, moves forward. I allow myself one final wave to Orophin and Lavandil, as well as a last glance at this shining city that had just begun to feel like home.

Before I know it, we have crossed the terrifying bridge and left the safety of Imladris behind.

A/n Thanks for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs make my day <3 And to everyone who responded to the last chapter: I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, THANK YOU!!!!!

|next chapter - to be posted|

|masterlist|

Tolkien tag list: @anangelwhodidntfall @eru-vande 

Haldir tag list: @tolkien-apologist @that-cute-stranger

Double Heart tag list: @lainphotography @themerriweathermage @thophil2941btw @kenobiguacamole @wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse @from-patroclus-with-love @boywivlove @ordinarymom1 @my-darling-haldir @sweet-bea-blossom @moony-artnstuff @sleepyamygdala @thranduilseyebrows 

[gifted-burnout-archive]

The Other Side of Hollywood

Part Seven

Word Count: 5.2K+

Author’s Note: I KNOW THE GIF IS FROM EPISODE ONE BUT I WANTED TO USE IT EARLIER AND FORGOT SO HAVE IT NOW INSTEAD!!! And I couldn’t find the time to make my own gif of Luke in that suit today so you’ll get it tomorrow with the finale. Also, I am genuinely concerned for Willie in the real show so I did us all a favour and changed a thing or two.

Warning: threatening language, more jolts, sad stuff.

Linkaroonies - One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Masterlist and Y/N Moodboard.

--

The plan wasn’t exactly simple… But desperate times call for desperate measures, and the band really had no other choice.

After Julie’s rousing speech the night before, planning quickly began: what the boys had been struggling over for a week was quickly solved when they were reminded by Julie of their number one strength. Being ghosts. And after Willie stopped by to check in and promised to get rid of the opening act for Panic! At The Disco overnight, and after he assured them no-one would be hurt, maimed, or made into a ghost themselves in the process, he vanished and promised to report back by morning.

It’s how Alex, Reggie and Luke found themselves standing outside the Orpheum the next day, impatient in their wait for Willie’s return while Julie paced her way around the studio at home.

“Look, don’t worry guys, Willie said he’d get us on that marquee.” Alex assured, his eyes travelling up to the neon blue sign.

“This gonna work, right?” Reggie asked, glancing over at his bandmates, his brothers, with a look of worry. They were riding on Willie’s help, and after he disappeared last night, all that was left for them to do was plan a show that might not happen.

“It has too.” Luke said with a sigh, before all three of them were suddenly hit with another jolt. It sent them doubling over, the pain getting more intense and more frequent the closer they seemed to come to the week’s end – they were on a deadline.

“Hey, you guys ok?” A voice asked behind them, Willie appearing out of the thin air, quickly looking around himself as if someone was missing. He seemed confused, but quickly looked back to the three guys in front of him.

“Yeah.” Alex answered after the trio shared a glance. “Yeah, it’s nothing we haven’t felt before… How’d it go?” He asked, and Willie smiled.

“Well, when that opening band wakes up, they’re gonna find their bus 200 miles outside of Vegas with no chance of getting back in time.” Willie turned to show the jacket he had nabbed from the band that was meant to be supporting P!ATD that night, turning back around and receiving a fist bump from Luke. Another whoosh sounded from behind Willie, Luke’s smile immediately fading away while Alex and Reggie looked surprised.

“You know, that means there’s probably a promoter upstairs right about now freaking out.” Y/N smiled, Willie looking at her with a proud expression. “Hey Reggie.” She said with a wave of her fingers, the boy waving back. “Alex.” She nodded. “… Denim. Like the fleece.” She complimented, earning a snicker from Alex, who quickly stopped with a glance at Luke…

He had never seen him look so angry.

“What is she doing here?” Luke asked Willie, only to be interrupted by a jangle of keys, the item finally through the air and forcing Luke to instinctively catch them. A set of keys, and by the stickers and keyring, it seemed like they were the keys for the tour bus currently stuck in the middle of the desert.

“I told you last night I wanted to help… And Willie can’t drive. Not as well as I can anyway.” She explained herself quickly, and it became clear why Willie was so pleased: Y/N seemed to have switched sides.

“Thanks, Y/N…” Reggie said after a moment, earning a scowl from Luke. “What? She helped!” He defended himself, and Y/N just smiled at the bassist.

“It’s alright Reg.” She promised. “I wouldn’t be forgiving me either…” Y/N’s eyes fell to the ground, her shoes scuffing against the sidewalk. “The things you’ll do for family, right?” She muttered, loud enough for only Luke to really hear. It left him confused for a moment, not quite sure what she meant, and the silence that followed was quickly broken by Willie.

“You, know, I might have to disagree, Y/N. From what I’ve seen, Hollywood promoters are super chill in the face of… Problems.” Willie said with a chuckle, and Y/N smiled softly, bringing up a hand and messing with his hair.

“Good luck tonight, guys… I mean that.” She said with a final glance at the boys before her, all looking a little more hopeful than the night before, before disappearing into the air. Alex took a few steps forward to Willie once the air had settled again, pulling him aside from Reggie and Luke, who quickly caught on and backed away a little.

“I know…” Alex paused, taking a breath, clasping and unclasping his hands. “How much you’re risking…” His eyes finally met Willie’s, who was smiling bright and sweet. “Thank you, Willie.”

“I told you, I’d do anything for you.” Willie responded with a shrug, meaning the words he spoke. Alex hesitated for a moment, almost tempted to end it there, but his heart got the better of him, pulling Willie into a tight hug.

They held onto each other for a moment, Alex knowing that if something went wrong, it might just be the last time he got to see the skater. Willie was quick to hug back, his head going into the crook of Alex’s neck, his eyes closing as he breathed in, trying to retain Alex’s faint smell of dust and old cologne.

“Right…” Alex pulled away first, patting Willie’s shoulder before taking a step back, clearing his throat. “You uh… You’d better get out of here before Caleb catches you with us.”

“Yeah…” Willie nodded, a poof of air landing his skateboard in his hands. “I’ll see you around, hot dog.” He smiled, and Alex smiled back for a moment: it’s the first time Willie had used the nickname since the club, since all this chaos began.

Willie dropped his board to the ground, Alex watching him skate away as his friends came back to his side, Reggie placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Alex, you all right, man?” He asked, genuinely concerned, but Alex shrugged him off and nodded, turning to face his bandmates with a small smile, sad in nature.

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m ok.”

“Well…” Luke started. “Thanks to Willie, Panic! At The Disco needs an opening band.” The attention was brought back to the job at hand, Luke ignoring Reggie’s addition of “And Y/N…”.

“Then I guess someone up there needs to know we’re available.” Alex smiled, his friends smiling right back as they poofed away in unison, only to land two storeys above in an office, where a very angry man was shouting down a phone.

“Stop… Stop saying the bus drove itself!” The man yelled, banging the phone against the desk in the hope to release some of his frustration, while his assistant watched on with a sigh.

“Yeah, Willie was right… This guy’s a total pro.” Reggie whispered, the sarcasm clear, and earning a chuckle from a decreasingly less grumpy Luke.

“All right, boys. Let the magic happen.” Luke announced, before feigning a stern expression. “Alex, no dancing!” He commanded, prompting the blond boy to jump and raise his arms like a ballerina.

Alex danced his way over to the far side of the assistant’s desk with poise and grace that left both Reggie and Luke near tears from laughter as they followed him. With a twirl a flick of his wrist, Alex knocked a pencil holder to the floor, and in a mad rush of Alex writing and Luke directing Reggie in finding their YouTube video from the week before, the boys stepped back as the assistant lifted herself and the fallen object back to the desk.

She was surprised to find a video playing on her screen when she sat back up, and quickly scrolled down to see who exactly this band were, even more surprised by their amazing sound.

“Tasha!” Her boss called to the assistant, who glanced up from her laptop. “Get me CJ. Tell him I need a band to open in 3 hours.” He demanded, and she grinned.

“Sure, but you might want to check this out.” Tasha sat back, continuing to watch the video as her boss hurried over, and Alex couldn’t help but chuckle as the boys watched the scene unfold before them. “Somehow this video started playing on my laptop. It’s got 4 million hits in just a week.”

“Who are they?” He asked, shocked, and Tasha scrolled down the page.

“They’re a hologram band. They call themselves Julie and the Phantoms.” She read out.

“Tell your friends.” Reggie instinctively replied.

“Where are they located?” He asked quickly, and she smiled even wider.

“Our very own City of Angels.”

“Then book ‘em!” Her boss demanded, the boys sharing a cheer.

“Sure, I just don’t know how to…” Tasha trailed off, her eyes falling onto a post-it note, right there on her desk, bearing a number alongside the band’s name.

“Your handwriting is better than mine…” Luke mumbled, earning a pat on the back and nod from Alex before the three vanished, headed home to find Julie and tell her the good news.

“Oh my God!” Was the first thing they head when they landed, Julie having spent most her day pacing the studio: by the looks of it, she had worn down the carpet. “What took you guys so long?! Did Willie do it? Did you talk to them? Did they watch? Did they like us? Are we playing tonight? Can someone answer me? Why’s no-one talking-”

“Whoa, that’s a lot of questions!” Reggie interrupted, allowing Julie a chance to catch her breath. “Luke, you wanna take this one?” He suggested, and Luke turned to face Julie with a smile.

“Take a seat.” He instructed, and Julie’s sat back on the couch she had been too anxious to stay on earlier, while the boys found themselves kneeling on the other side of the table. Atop it, sat Julie’s phone. “It’s fine. Everything’s fine.” Luke said with a smile.

“Yeah. Willie and Y/N took care of the other band, and we saw them watch the video.” Julie smiled a little at the mention of Y/N’s name, glad the ghost-girl she had become so close to over the last week was on their side. “You should be getting a call right… Now!” Alex explained, pointing to the phone and everyone leaned forward. When the screen stayed blank, he cleared his throat and tried again. “Right… Now!” He pointed a second time, this time the action followed by the screen lighting up with an unknown number, the boys high-fiving. “Nailed it…”

“The phone!” The boys quickly realised Julie was yet to answer after a moment had passed, and she quickly grabbed her mobile, the room going silent as she answered.

“Hello?” She said softly, the tension thick in the air as they waited.

“Hi, this is Tasha from the Orpheum…”

--

Y/N had always been Willie’s best friend. If anything, she was more like his over-protective younger sister. From the moment he arrived at the club, she was watching out for him, keeping him safe, and she intended to keep doing that, whatever the cost. Even if it led to her handing over the boy she liked on a silver platter with his bandmates to Caleb. Even if it meant spending eternity being hated by the people she wanted most to like her, Willie included.

Because, when all is said and done, Y/N would do anything to protect her family.

“Why so blue, sunset?” Caleb asked as he walked into the club to find her keeping up with her daily chores: scrubbing away at the floor until Caleb could see his reflection on the wood. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the big dance number tonight?”

“I don’t want to perform anymore. Not for you.” Y/N muttered, getting up from the floor to sort herself out with some fresh water, a hand coming to her shoulder. “You know, the only time I’ve ever enjoyed anything to do with music was when I sang with Luke? With the band you want so badly to tear away from Julie. My friend?”

“They aren’t your friends, Y/N… I’m your friend.” Caleb corrected, gesturing for Y/N to set down the bucket and sit, which she did without hesitation. “I’m also the friend who owns your soul, owns your best friend’s soul.” He reminded, and Y/N sighed. “So, you do what I say. I say I want you on my stage tonight, that’s where you’ll be. Got it?” He snapped, and Y/N quickly nodded. “Good. Now, what have they been up to since we last spoke?”

“They’ve figured out their unfinished business… They plan to finish it tonight.” She reported back, and Caleb froze. “You’re too late.”

“The lifer’s address. Give it to me.” Caleb demanded, and Y/N stood up, taking steps towards backstage, only to be hit by a jolt that sent her to her knees.

“Caleb please… Please just let this go, let Willie go. Reconsider.” She begged, coughing through her words to try and lessen the pain in her chest.

“I OWN YOU!” Caleb yelled. “You do what I say! Now,” He snapped his fingers, changing from a suit into a tuxedo and top hat combo. “Tell me where they are.” With a roll of his hand, he offered Y/N a pen and paper.

As she wrote down Julie’s address, Y/N could only hope that the boys were already at the Orpheum, already with Julie and ready to play again. He smiled as she scrawled the address down, snatching the paper back and closing his eyes as he disappeared, leaving Y/N to recover, to change…

To get ready for another show.

--

“Julie and I were thinking we start with Stand Tall.” Luke suggested, he, Alex and Reggie gathered around the grand piano in the studio, deciding the final order of the songs. He looked up to find both his bandmates rather out of it, and frowned.

“Perfect.” Alex said with a quick nod.

“Sounds good.” Reggie added with a sigh.

“Sounds good?” Luke asked, looking between the two like he was missing something. “Dude wake up! I wanna hear ‘it sounds awesome’!” Luke said with vigour, trying to pump up his friends, before letting his shoulders drop. “I know this isn’t how we wanted things to turn out, but we gotta be all in tonight.” He reminded them. “This is our second chance at playing the Orpheum!”

“I… I get it, I get it, but it’s hard.” Reggie said in a soft voice, melancholic and sincere. “Do we even know what’s on the other side when we cross over? Do we all still get to hang together? You…” Reggie paused, his shoulders slumping. “You guys are the only family I have.”

“Yeah, I mean, I don’t know what’s going to happen either, but… It’s not like we have a choice.” Alex said softly, reaching to place a hand on Reggie’s shoulder when another jolt hit the three, sending them doubling over.

It was worse this time, a lot worse, the pain no longer in their side but the centre of their chest, almost like the jolts had been travelling this whole time towards their hearts. Each was having to find support from the piano to simply stand up at all, and as the pain started to fade from their chests, it relocated to their wrists where the stamps marked their skin.

“I’m pretty sure we do… And it rhymes with the Hollywood Ghost Club.” Reggie said with malice in his voice as he rubbed his wrist, his friends sharing the same thought as the garage doors opened, Julie walking in and pausing at the unhappy looks on her friends’ faces.

“Are you ready?” She asked before fully registering the situation, her smile quickly dropping. “What’s wrong?” She asked, holding on tighter to her dress, stored neatly in a clothing bag. The boys did their best to hide the level of pain they were in, Alex brushing it off with a light chuckle and smile.

“Yeah. We just got rocked pretty hard by one of those jolt things.” He explained with a shrug, leading the walk over to their friend, their bandmate, their leading lady.

“Pretty sure I ghost peed a little.” Reggie added with a forlorn look, Alex glancing over and rolling his eyes at the comment.

“We’re fine though.” Luke smiled. “How are you doing?” He asked, noticing the way his friend wringed her hands round the coat hanger.

“I’m a little nervous actually.” She admitted with a slight laugh. She was, after all, about to play the Orpheum, one of the most well-known stages in LA. She hung the dress on the door quickly, rubbing her hands against the denim of her jeans.

“Julie, you’ll be amazing, as always.” Reggie reminded, receiving nods of agreement from the other guys, easing Julie’s nerves slightly.

“Can… Can I ask a favour?” She said softly, looking at the three idiots who had become part of her family, who had become her home.

“Anything, Julie. You know that.” Luke smiled, and Julie nodded, looking down at her toes and taking a breath.

“When you guys cross over, if…” Julie swallowed, and Alex took a step closer in concern. “If any of you happen to see my mom, can you tell her I love her… and thank her for bringing you to me?” She asked softly, sad smiles being shared between the four: it was a request the boys most definitely hoped to keep for her.

“We will.” Alex said softly, on behalf of the three of them, and Luke cleared his throat.

“Guys, band circle.” He ordered, the four coming together and joining hands where possible. “We don’t know what brought us here, but what we do know is… You’re a star, Julie.” Luke smiled at her, a feeling of pride swelling in him the boys no doubt shared: she was their Julie, and the last months had changed them all. “And just because this is our last night together, it doesn’t mean we won’t be watching you from above… or…” Luke glanced down at the floor with a light chuckle, earning scoffs from his bandmates. “Now let’s go rock this show, and give them a night they’ll be talking about until the sun comes up.” He jumped a little with the words, and more laughs were shared. “Legends on three.” Luke said finally, putting his hand into the circle’s centre.

“One.” Alex responded immediately, his hand landing on top of Luke’s.

“Two.” Reggie followed with a dopey smile and a shrug.

“… Three.” Julie finished, all four raising their hands with a cry of ‘Legends!’, quickly followed by Julie’s dad Ray beeping his horn. “That’ll be my dad. He’s driving me there, so I’ll see you guys soon.” She smiled at the three of them, grabbing her dress and jogging out the door and down the driveway to where her dad waited.

The guys watched the leave before drifting around the room, taking it all in for one last time. While Reggie and Alex got lost in their own dazes, Luke’s eyes travelled to the couch, his mind replaying the sound of Y/N’s voice when she sang with them the week before. The feelings of her head on his thigh, the way her laugh vibrated through her body into his, the way their hands felt interlocked.

“Take it in boys, it’s the last time we’ll see this place.” Luke said under his breath, but Reggie and Alex heard him. They were thinking the same thing.

“And where is it that you think you’re going?” The voice came first, followed by a flash and Caleb, who lounged on the grand piano before the boys in a top hat and tuxedo. He seemed to radiate evil now that they knew what and who Caleb really was, so obviously they felt stupid for not realising before.

“What are you doing here?” Luke asked in a growl, stepping in front of Reggie and Alex, ready to take on the first round with the man who was trying to enslave them for the rest of time.

“Such hostility!” Caleb said with a tut and a gasp, shaking his head. “I’m just here to congratulate you on your big night.” He let out a chuckle. “Not everyone gets to play the Orpheum!”

“No. Ok, we know that it’s your stamp that’s hurting us.” Luke informed as he pulled his sleeve up to show the stamp, the branding, on his wrist. “We already told you, we have a band. We don’t want to join your little club.”

“Yeah, and you can’t make us either…” Alex built up the courage to back up Luke, but after a glance and raised eyebrow from Caleb, he cleared his throat. “Sir.”

“Right! You’re crossing over tonight. So exciting!” Caleb whispered, the dramatic facial expressions just emphasising his sarcasm. “Funny thing about the cross over, no-one really knows what’s waiting on the other side.” He told them with a wave of the hand and an evil smirk, tapping the brim on his hap. “But I know what’s happening on this side.” With a pressing of his hand to his mouth, Caleb blew a kiss and sent the boys spiralling…

Only to land straight up somewhere unfortunately familiar, dressed in new clothes and armed with their instruments. It wasn’t the first thing Luke noticed as he landed though, no… What came first was the noise.

“You told me you would help them, Y/N!” It was Willie’s voice shouting, which surprised Luke most considering that he had never met someone so friendly, so chilled out. As his eyes focused, his view of the pair became clearer, Y/N stood before them in a stunning deep green dress, a single tear trailing down her cheek as Willie yelled. “You lied, and you lied again! How could you do this to them, to me?!”

“I didn’t have another option Will…” Her voice wobbled; her eyes red as she did her best not to sob. Y/N looked broken, reaching out for a pacing Willie but never quite getting to hold him. “I picked the lesser of two-”

“What did you get in return, huh? The penthouse suite?! Control over the work rota?!” Willie asked. “What did he give you this time to do his dirty work, Y/N?” Willie asked, his head turning and stopping dead as he spotted the three boys, stumbling back and hitting the floor. “No, no…”

“Well, don’t they look nice?” Caleb’s voice led five pairs of eyes to his descending the staircase, now dressed in a purple sequin tail coat, filing his nails as the boys looked over themselves, the tuxedos they had been put into.

“Sweet threads..” Reggie managed, earning a smile from Caleb.

“How… How’d you know our size?” Alex asked, glancing over, and seeing Willie for the first time, his heart breaking at the sight of him.

“That’s your question?” Luke snapped, though Alex was now preoccupied, and his eyes fell on Caleb with a glare, before passing over to Y/N. She looked beautiful in spite of her tear stained cheeks and paler than normal complexion. He hadn’t noticed it earlier that day, nor the night before: but she did look sick.

“I know you boys aren’t my biggest fans.” Caleb said with a tut and a sigh, gesturing as he spoke. “And an eternity at my club might seem overwhelming. But… I just put you in sweet threads, so humour me this one last pitch.” He handed off the nail file, taking a few steps back and taking both Willie and Y/N by the arms, bringing them both to his sides. “Now, first off, isn’t it nice that you’re all here together? And believe me, thanks to Y/N, everything you want, including Willie,” He nodded to Alex, “Including Y/N,” His gaze settled back on Luke, giving the two uncomfortable teens at his side a squeeze. “It’s here. And on my stage, you don’t vanish when the music stops. You soak in the applause for as long as you want. The connection that you will feel with that audience,” Caleb dropped his hands from Y/N and Willie, walking forward and straightening Luke’s bow tie. “It will be like no other.” He smiled a little. “I promise.”

“I’m so sorry-”Y/N began to apologise, this time her gaze directed towards Luke, but Caleb shushed her.

“Do you hear that? They’re waiting for you.” Caleb stated as cheers began from out in the audience, viewers ready for a show. The boys were suddenly hit by another jolt, curling up at the pain, only to hear a female whimper, and a thud, eyes following Y/N as she slumped down to the ground. “That one looked like it hurt.” Caleb said with a shrug, walking back towards the stage. “Now, let me remind you, you don’t know if playing the Orpheum is your unfinished business. Do you really have time to make that mistake? I suggest you accept my offer because the clock is ticking.” Caleb lifted a glass of champagne and took a sip as another jolt ran through the boys, this time they witnessed it run through Y/N as well. “You know where to find me.”

As Caleb’s music started up in the background, Willie helped pull Y/N to her feet despite his anger, the girl gripping onto his arm and pulling up the sleeve.

“Y/N, what are you-” Willie asked, trying to pull away when he saw his stamp begin to glow, and like magic lift off of his arm. The boys watched on in amazement, Willie’s stamp shattering in the air into nothing, leaving the skin on Willie’s wrist clear.

“You were working for him all along…” Luke muttered, and Y/N looked up, holding tight to Willie.

“He gave me an offer… Either you three died and Willie was destroyed along with you… Or you all lived, with the bonus of Willie… Winning back his soul.” Y/N explained, suddenly feeling dizzy.

“The things we do for family…” Luke muttered, finally understanding what she had said before.

“I’m so sorry I did this…” Y/N groaned and held a hand to her head, sitting herself down on the floor as the words of Caleb’s song floated around her head, as she watched Alex begin to twirl a drumstick between his fingers and Reggie bounce to the track’s beat. “Willie you need to leave… Go somewhere safe.”

“The studio…” Alex suggested absentmindedly, before he disappeared in to a puff of smoke, only to reappear on the stage by the drum kit.

“You’ll be safe there…” Y/N promised, and with a final glance back at the stage, Willie left the Hollywood Ghost Club a free man for the first time ever.

“Y/N, are you alright?” Luke asked, Reggie disappearing from his side as he knelt down to see to the girl clutching her head. Reggie’s infamous bass lines began to resonate around the room, and Luke felt his fingers itching to play, felt his body dying to be on the stage.

His heart wanted to stay, with Y/N…

“Now Luke.” Caleb called from the stage, Luke’s hands working with a mind of their own as they began to play, his legs pulling him from Y/N’s body as the temptation took over.

The moment Luke’s feet crossed over the threshold of side lines to stage, a cosmic shift occurred with the completion of Y/N’s deal. To the sound of guitar riffs and drum beats, Y/N’s mind was filled with memories of a life she never knew, of a life Caleb stole from her…

Of a life Caleb took away.

--

The boys hadn’t arrived… They didn’t get to cross over. The jolts got them first.

The fears circled through Julie’s brain as she ran from Flynn and Rob, the tech manager, fleeing out the Orpheum’s side door onto the alleyway. As she broke through the doorway, her feet came to a slow stop, recovering from the run. Julie looked to her left, her right, and finally to the sky as the cold night air set in, traffic passing by on the main road, the blue glow of the Orpheum’s catching on driving cars. And, like that, Julie just felt angry. Like the world had turned its back on her and stolen the people she loved over and over again.

“I don’t know if you can hear me, Mom, but…” Julie started, cut off for a moment by a soft sob. “I can’t handle it.” She admitted to air. “You know, Flynn says you’re supposed to be behind everything, but I don’t know… If I was supposed to help the guys, I didn’t.” Another sob racked her body, and Julie tilted her head back. “They’re gone and I’m so sorry… They were my friends, my band… My family.” She sniffed at the thought, wiping her tears away with her hands. “Why can’t you just come pick me up and… and hold me in your arms and just tell me that everything’s gonna be ok and that I’m gonna get through it?” Her voice cracked at the thought, and Julie took a shaky breath. “And tell me that even though they’re not here with me, they’re still up there with you. I just… I just wish you were here.” Julia sighed, her head dropping down as she finished, a passer-by stopping by her side.

She looked the poor girl over, dressed like a popstar in a back alley, crying to someone who was no longer there, and felt the deepest movement of sympathy within her. Without thinking much of it, she held out one of her newly bought dahlias to the young girl, who accepted it with surprise, and made her way home.

Julie looked at the flower, the sign she had been waiting for, and turned towards the side entrance of the Orpheum, her glance triggering a gust of wind to throw the doors open and send a picture from a pinboard by the entrance off of its pin, floating down to the ground. Picking the photo up from the floor, Julie felt even warmer inside, immediately noticing the face in the centre of the picture. Even twenty five years younger, her mother had the same smile and hair and eyes, she threw her head back to laugh in the same way.

That’s what the photo was: her mom in that same jacket Julie wore that night, holding tightly to her friends as they posed for the photo. Her mom wasn’t centre though, instead it was a girl in a birthday hat, her smile bright as he held a hand to her chest and another over the third friend’s shoulder.

“Rosalee…”

Julie, with her dahlia in one hand and the photo in the other, marched back down the stairs and back to stage side where Flynn and Rob were trying to co-ordinate and get Brendon Urie on stage. Instead, Julie stopped for a moment by Flynn’s side, a smile on her face as she brandished the flower like a sword and pressed the photo to Flynn’s chest.

“Signs.” She said simply, walking on stage without hesitation, which prompted Flynn to look down at what she had been handed by her best friend.

A photo of Julie’s mom, about twenty something years younger, beside the girl Flynn had seen flickering at the party as she sang with the band.

A photo of Rose and Y/N… From 1995.

--

Part Eight (The End) is here...

--

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