#he was originally supposed to be an adopt I had a vague idea of then i spiraled as you can tell | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

annah-kitathryne · 9 months

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Batman Stays Dead AU

I want to preface this by saying that this is not completely based in canon yet, and it floating in the weird space between fanon and canon, as I will read the comics that directly lead up to how this idea could exist and the comics at the time this story would branch out. However, I was hit by brain worms that I could not ignore. That being said. This is an outline and by no means should be taken as the final product. That means that some stuff is vague, and some stuff is in detail. And a lot is subject to change as I read more, and expand the idea. If you don’t like please don’t send hate comments. Instead, create your version back on the original post so that others can see it. Thank you and enjoy reading

The original Idea can be found [here]

It was created by this person: @analviel

Word count: 8,000+

Warnings: Canon Batman, dysfunctional implied and stated relationships, underage use of substances, and discussions of health, conspiracy.

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Life for Timothy Drake had gone up in flames multiple times. At this point, he questioned what was left to burn considering the foundation in which his life had become was more than cracked, it was rubble. He was now down three parents, up a murderous adopted older brother, a murderous adopted younger brother, and two dead best friends, and had just been fired from his life’s work by his eldest adopted brother. To say he was probably the only person on earth going through this exact situation said a lot about how much everything had gone to shit. So yes, his life had been more than upended.

This was why, later when he had sorted through some things and finally gotten his bearings in the new normal, he would claim his breakdown was warranted, and looking back seemed like an underreaction to the whole situation. However, at the moment he wasn’t thinking. He was just doing.

The sound of glass breaking was when Tim finally started to become fully aware of what was happening around him, and what he was doing. Looking around there was overturned furniture, the sheets had been ripped, and the clothes in the dresser and the closet were in misshaped piles. Some of them were damp from what Tim was sure was a days-old water bottle he brought to his room during one of his research spirals. The glass was from a picture frame he must have recently thrown, considering it had just barely missed a pile of what were supposed to be the curtains on the window, and it was the only object that he could see that would have made the sound.

He gulps some air while tasting something salty. Tears. His hands are shaking and his body feels numb.

Giving himself a moment he goes and grabs the picture frame. Making sure to avoid the broken glass, because he doesn’t want to have to go downstairs and deal with a cut. Flipping it over he sees the picture of him and Bruce the day he was officially adopted.

Was it strange that it felt like decades ago?

Tim sighs as he looks around. He stands back up, places the broken picture onto a desk that wasn't supposed to be empty and starts surveying the room, looking for where to start. He saw what used to be the contents of his desk on the top of his torn mattress.

This was going to be a long evening? Morning? Did it matter at this point? Not really. This was just something better to do than allowing himself to think about everything that had happened recently.

He picks up piles of clothes and heads down the hallway to the clothing shute, slowly stuffing handful after handful of clothes as he counts the varying amount of words he saw on them. He would go down later and start the laundry. This was his mess, and there was no way Alfred would let him get away with the mess he created.

After cleaning the clothes and sheets out of his room, it felt less stuffy. The room seemed to have grown slightly. It was easier to breathe. Though logically he understood that it was because he could see the floor, and not because magic had suddenly expanded the room a couple of feet.

Continuing on he cleaned up the trash and the glass. Torn papers, a couple of old letters, and a piece of scratch paper that had a list of numbers he no longer needed. Putting them in the waste bin he would take them down to a main garbage bin later. After that, he put the pencil, pens, notebooks, and folders back into the drawers they had come from. Colour coding them as he went.

He never did that, but it was another task he could do to keep his mind occupied away from the breakdown it wanted to continue. He debated over the varying shades of purple, starting to think about Steph, when he huffed, clamped his hand over the offending pencil, and had to take a deep breath to remind himself that he has to finish cleaning up the mess he made.

The pencils had been lined up, and the books had been shelved by the subject. Something Tim hadn’t cared for, but was just another bit of time he could chip away at doing anything but working through his thoughts.

He then grabbed the trash bag he had collected and took it down to the larger bin. He turned down the hall and made it to the large washing room. He had at least two more hours before Alfred would notice anything, so he started the process of cleaning all of the clothes. Only now realizing the stains that some of them had collected since he got them.

When back in the hall he grabbed some generic sheets from the hall closet and made his way back into his room, the door clicking shut softly. He may be an absolute mess but he doesn’t want to have to deal with anyone’s ire for waking them up if they had slept through the breakdown he had just been having. Looking at the mattress he counted the holes. Three that wouldn’t impact the functionality of the mattress, so he flipped it over and made his bed. He could worry about the whole situation later when he figured out what to do with everything else.

By the time everything else was cleaned up, and all the laundry was done he felt worn down enough that he might be able to knock himself out and get some rest.

The next couple of days are a blur for Tim. He’s lethargic and he can’t do more than wrap the sheets around him any more. He looks at his computer screen and absently scrolls documents he doesn’t even really read. Even though he has done a total sum of nothing, he feels exhausted to his soul and bones.

Tim had been struggling with sleep for the last couple of days. Having become a creature of nocturnal habit for years going to sleep at a regular time seemed to be as foreign as a stranger. However, he finds that he ends up sleeping at a normal time, albeit a restless sleep.

It meant that when he woke up, the light of his alarm showed brightly enough that once the world stopped being blurred, it readout three twenty-four. It was well into the time that any patrol would be done for the night, and a couple of hours before anyone would be up and about. It was the perfect sweet spot when one could be alone with their thoughts.

Exactly the thing that Tim had been avoiding. However, it seemed that he didn’t need the odd hours to start thinking because the second Tim had knocked the rest of sleep away from his system he felt a sudden sense of wrongness.

He found himself looking around at the darkest corners, at the slightly open closet door, at the window that was still curtainless. He didn’t realize what he was doing until he finished checking everything. He was looking for Bruce, Batman, in those dark corners. As if the points from the cowl or the shine of a wristwatch would appear out of nothing.

Once he started thinking about Bruce he couldn’t stop.

He thought about how the cases that were being worked on, the rebuilding that would have been done, the training he was missing out on, and to go on with everything else, he felt the need to go down to the cave and start working on cases that weren’t his.

He reigned in those thoughts. He wasn’t Robin. Damian the little brat was in the colours. Bruce wasn’t Batman. Dick was The Bat now. He was working on cold cases that had been thrown to the wayside in all the chaos, and helping with research on current cases. He reined in the urge to go and put his Robin suit on, and made his way over to his desk, grabbing his computer and opening up a couple of case files to get his mind off everything.

Maybe he would be able to solve the Tresent case now that some time had passed.

It seemed that this wasn’t going to be the case because he realized he pulled up the information on the Omega Beam and the file that had been created on the whole ordeal. Maybe it was his poor impulse control or the fact that he had held the floodgates for too long, but he ended up reading the whole file, and the connecting files like they were a scripture that held the knowledge of a long-forgotten civilization.

The more he read, the more everything felt off. It just didn’t feel right. Especially everything surrounding Bruce. It just didn’t feel right. The Omega Beam, the casket lowered for Batman. It just wasn’t adding up to Tim. No one knew what the Omega Beam was, or what it did. They just knew that whoever it was appeared to be dead. For all, they knew it could move someone’s soul into some weird pseudoscience/magic containment cell, or be a cloning transport machine. Honestly, the sky had stopped being the limit years ago. Two of his best friends had been a speedster from the future, and a partial clone of Superman. Two things that just didn’t feel possible sometimes.

So really, the idea that Bruce could be out there somewhere wasn’t farfetched.

For a brief small moment, he considered how this could fix everything, how he could go running down the hall and exclaim to Dick what he thought. How he could shove all the cold cases to the side, and bring back Batman. How the city would go back to a sense of normal. But just as he was about to get up and go through with it he stopped.

He had no proof, he had nothing but a hunch and a bad feeling. While as vigilantes they had worked with bad feelings and hunches, most of the time it was small things. Checking an alley again, looking for closed feed cameras, or even investigating a random warehouse. This was not any of these situations. This was exclaiming that someone who people had seen die, was alive, with nothing but a bad feeling.

If he was wrong, and even if for a brief moment he brought everyone’s hope up again, it would ruin everything all over again.

He doesn’t tell anyone. Not in the following days. Not as he looks at places that have experienced unusual amounts of energy lately. Not since he had been cataloguing a web of places with old and new energy signatures across the planet. He doesn’t think about how deep it is. He doesn’t bother to realize what he could be sitting on. Not the possibility, not the high chance of disappointment.

This is the first time in a couple of weeks that he has had the energy to do anything. He is going to ride this motivation, and maybe take it down the halfpipe.

For everyone else, he locked it up away where it couldn’t be found. This was confidential information, and it was information that he needed to have airtight proof for if he was ever going to do anything about it.

The more he researched the more everything felt wrong. Like he knew he was walking on an old minefield and was just waiting for one of them to go off. He was waiting for the misstep to come.

He didn’t like the feeling, and he just seemed to be marching further and further into the field and not away from it.

He would deal with it later.

Tim buys a plane ticket to France. He just wants to check something out, get this all out of his system so that maybe he can move on, or find evidence.

So he packs a civilian suitcase and a more private vigilante case. He makes up some excuse about how he just needs a moment to get away from everything. Spins a story to Dick about he needs a week for himself, but that he isn’t leaving. He needs to be subtle about this trip, he can’t leave with people being suspicious about what he is going to do.

Dick is still suspicious, but everything has been so crazy that if his younger brother needs this, then he should go do it.

The next couple of days are filled with working on case backlogs, helping Alfred where he can, and pretending to be working on a new vigilante name. (Something that he does have to work on, but not right now)

Only a couple of hours before he leaves the Arkham alarm goes off, and it’s all hands on deck when the report comes in that Scarecrow has more or less fumed the whole city in fear toxin. People are fighting each other, buildings are being burnt, and more than half of emergency services are down.

He doesn’t have a suit, but he needs to be out there, so he takes his Robin suit, doesn’t listen to Damian’s protests exclaiming that he can’t wear the red and black suit, and ruses into the private changing areas.

The fact that the city is in chaos once again shouldn’t be the worst part, but the worst part is that no one had any sense of teamwork, and the leadership has been changed around.

Dick is now calling the shots while working with his current Robin, Damian, who is still working with the whole stab now, ask questions later mentality, the previous Robin, Tim, is one bad moment from a breakdown, and sitting on possibly the biggest discovery. This would be enough of chaos as is, but then adding in Barbra and Steph and the whole teamwork thing is more of a ‘we have the same goals, therefore we will all tolerate each other’.

Through investigation, they discover that there are at least fifteen different versions of the fear toxin on the streets, and they also discovered that it was being emitted from multiple forms of air conditioner filters, and multiple local brands of air fresheners.

While Oracle is tracking down the legal connections to hand over to the Commissioner, Batgirl is working with the hospitals to help move cures around Gotham, Batman and the New Robin are working on tracking down the main cell of Scarecrow and apprehending the rogue. Tim is in charge of tracking down and taking down the side cells, and making sure that there is nothing for them to fall back to and regroup.

It takes two weeks, and there are multiple fights and scream matches, but they all eventually get the job done. The hospitals are full, but each hour more people are being cured and sent home, the whole operation is busted, and Tim didn’t have time to think about Bruce.

Over comms, they took to calling him Red Robin, because of the colours of his suit. He doesn’t like it, but it will do for now.

They end up passed out in one of the least used safehouses in the network. A small apartment that has neighbours and was the last to always be upgraded. That wasn’t to say that it was rundown, but it was the most normal safehouse that could pass it off as a civilian place of living. However, for tonight there were four vigilantes in various states of delirium.

Tim was passed out on the couch in the living room, Steph had taken the coat in the second room, and Damian and Dick had taken the two beds in the main bedroom. It didn’t matter that no one wanted to talk to each other, that all of them were in various states of fighting, because they were too tired to care.

In the morning, Dick and Steph end up in the small galley kitchen looking at the contents in the fridge and freezer. They find some condiments, and several mouldy vegetables from whoever used the place last, and in the freezer, they find two full boxes of eggos.

The toaster in the kitchen was ancient but functional, and Steph was looking around for anything to add to it when she looked out the window and saw a corner store across the street. Quickly putting on a slightly too large pair of boots and grabbing twenty dollars from an emergency pouch in her belt she rushes over to the store.

She grabs an overly sugary fruit juice, a bottle of syrup, a small bar of butter, and the ripest berries she can find, and heads back over to the apartment.

Later that morning they find themselves sitting at the small table that had one end shoved against the wall. Dick to the head of the table that faced the wall, Domain took the chair that was between another wall and the table, and Tim and Steph ended up on the other.

There were three larger plates of waffles, a small bowl of berries, and butter and syrup also present. It was the most nuclear-type breakfast any of them had all together.

It was silent. Damian wasn’t complaining about the cheap cardboard-like food, Tim wasn’t head slumped over a table in whatever slump of mood he has been in recently, Steph wasn’t talking about something to fill the space, and Dick wasn’t trying to get anyone to do anything other than eat food.

It was nice. In the weirdest way possible.

The scraping of forks and knives could be heard along with the early morning noises of the city outside. The upstairs neighbours were arguing about something or another. Muffled enough that they could tell the tone, but muffled enough that they would have to concentrate to get the actual words to get the conversation.

The silence wasn’t something that they had all agreed upon, not something that they had preestablished before sitting down. It was being held down by the sticky syrup and the sleep deprivation they were all suffering from.

Tim took a bite of his eggo, it was soggy on one side and burnt on the other.

If he was actually in school and was being hounded by an English teacher that was exclaiming the deep metaphors and connections the small things made to the overall narrative of the story, he would be under the impression that said, teacher would have a field day with the possible connections an eggo had with his life story and current mental state.

However, seeing as he wasn’t in school, and didn’t have to think about English teachers outside of when he teamed up with Huntress, this wasn’t what he was thinking about.

He wasn’t even thinking, he was just eating an eggo.

If Tim were to do anything at all in these moments he would want to start yelling at every single one of them for various grievances, and issues. Instead, he just eats breakfast and basks in relative silence.

In the future when they sit down again for a similar breakfast, in the same safe house, they will talk about how this first breakfast was possible in the first place because Bruce wasn’t there.

Bruce hadn’t been there to make Damina feel like he had to measure up to everyone else, he wasn’t there to make Dick feel like he was a disappointment, he wasn’t there to make Steph feel like she was less than the other vigilantes, and he wasn’t there to make Tim feel like he was being graded for every action that he took.

It was a breath of fresh air that they needed, and this moment would set the first bit of groundwork that would build the family later.

The next couple of months sucked. There was no way around it. Tim still didn’t have a new call sign and was being regulated to work consisting of stealth missions, undercover, and receive for if anything went wrong.

One good thing that came out of the whole ordeal was the last of the backlog of files in the Batcave had been uploaded to the computer, put in special storage, and the number of cold cases had gone down significantly.

It was all good things that might not have been done, and in the end, they had found twenty-six serial killers and twelve serial arsonists, and some of the information finally moved to the computer came in handy with a recent case.

It was a net good, so Tim couldn’t find it in himself to hate it all that much.

What it also meant was that Tim was now going back to high school full-time. There was no No Man’s Land, no Alien Invasion, and to the public Bruce Wayne was alive. So he started going to school, and while he wanted to get it over and done with, after everything it was kind of nice just to be a kid for a bit, someone who shouldn’t have the fate of the world resting in their hands.

Dick was now an established Batman, and Damian was finally settling into Robin. He still had a long way to go, but without some of the pressure from Bruce, things started to settle down. Tim and Damian could now be left in a room alone, and not start fights with each other. Sure Tim still sometimes wished he could be the Robin to Dick’s Batman, but he’s starting to understand what Dick meant when he said it just wouldn’t work.

Sure they were all still making mistakes, with each other, their friends, the teams, and on and off the field, but that was just normal when a whole system had to be rebuilt from the ground up.

Tim hadn’t thought about the possibility of Bruce being around in months. He would later understand that it was because things were going well, and that despite some dysfunctional issues, this was a real family.

He and Steph started over. They never got to know each other properly, and they needed to start working through their issues. They were finally friends.

He and Steph start working on missions and cases together. Putting together their combined knowledge and talents. They make an effective team. A team that should have worked together more often far earlier. Batgirl and whatever name Tim will eventually take make a formidable team. One that operates beside and separate from Batman and Robin.

It wasn’t long after this that Tim stumbled upon the clue to what Bruce has been doing this whole time.

He’s moving some boxes full of old stuff around, as they start to reorganize the mansion and downsize the amount of stuff they have lying around when he passes several portraits. Portraits that he hasn’t looked at since the last time they had to move stuff around after No Man’s Land.

He passes an old oil painting which had to be dated back to the pre-revolution era of the American colonies when he does a double take. He sets the box he had down and analyzes the painting in front of him. That was a painting of Bruce. Except it had to be at least three hundred years before Bruce was ever even thought of.

He stood there trying to make sense of it all when he remembered the conclusions that he had come to months ago had been right. Except he hadn’t considered the idea of a time travel device.

He was right.

Bruce was still out there and he was displaced in time.

He could do something about it.

Except when he caught himself thinking about that his head turned to look at the box he was moving. A box of decorations that Bruce loved, but no one else was partial to having out. The decision to move them had been a group choice. Something that everyone had sat down and talked about. They had set up a monitor to include Cass in the discussion.

It was something that wouldn’t have happened if Bruce had been there. It was something that would have been impossible with Bruce there.

Tim quickly turned back to the task he had been asked to do, and on his way back he removed the painting, putting it in one of the many unused rooms. This part of the manor wouldn’t be rotated until two weeks from now. He had time to figure out what to do, but for now, no one else could know. He didn’t know what they would do, and he didn’t want the pros and cons to not be compared before then.

He might have been slightly distracted the rest of the day Though everyone else checked it up to how everything seemed to be changing around the manor.

Later that night while everyone else was out on regular patrol and Tim had been relegated to cold cases again, he made his way to the portrait with a notebook and a bowl of chips. He sat in front of the painting that was leaning against the wall and just started thinking about what he should do.

He finds in the end that he knew what he was going to do the moment he walked into that room.

Tim sets up undercover work at the docks over the next couple of days, and throughout the next couple of days he brings over everything he needs, and at the end of the week, he sets up a bonfire.

He burns the oil painting, the notebook, and several other items that he doesn’t want anymore, and needs to get rid of. As the fire burns for the first time in months he feels a bone-deep sense of relief, as if the weights on his shoulders have disappeared.

It was the right thing to do. Things had finally started to become better. Everyone was working as a team, and they felt like a proper family. Gotham was under control, and things were looking up.

Things aren’t perfect but there is only room for upward improvement.

Ra’s al Ghul makes a move against Gotham, and what's left of the Bats, but it doesn’t work. They all work together, this time with Tim leading them. He helps set everyone into teams and has them all ready to fight back. They come up on top even better, and send Ra’s al Ghul back into the dark corner he came from.

They come out the other side a true family with all limbs and Organs in tack.

After everything had been cleaned up from the fight, Dick Tim and Steph end up with a bottle of whatever thousand-dollar bottle of alcohol they found in the manor. Never mind the fact that Tim and Steph shouldn’t be drinking and Dick should be stopping them. But they needed this, and they were safe in the manor to allow themselves to let go for a while.

They start talking about the past and what they wished they could change, how they were stupid kids in over their heads sometimes, and how they thought they could fight the whole world.

They talk about memories they had as Robin, before Robin, and the times they weren’t Robin but just Dick, Tim, and Steph.

They laugh and they cry. They share stories they haven’t told anyone in years, and for the first time, they all talk about Bruce, about the good times, the normal, and the bad. They talk about the things that they have kept to themselves for months, years, and what sometimes felt like lifetimes.

They all cry. If not for the past, but for what they wished it could be.

They all realize just how good things have been since Bruce left.

Cass comes back from Hong Kong two weeks later. She has news about what has been happening and is requesting some help.

Tim offers to go, but he doesn’t have a name yet, Cass says that it doesn’t matter and that she would be happy for him to come and visit. Steph comes along as well and the three of them leave Gotham in the hands of Batman, Robin, Huntress, and Oracle.

There is no fighting from each other. They are working as an amazing team.

They end up taking down a growing organization that was going to start shipping out supplies to multiple other villain groups around the world. They follow through with a report to the heroes in charge of the other villain groups.

During the trip, Tim and Steph come across another clue to Bruce being stuck in time. This time it's an old scroll that holds the account of a rogue fighter that was going around causing issues for the local authorities. It is the description of the fighter that tips both him and Steph off about the situation.

Steph had always been good at that sort of thing. Puzzles and Riddles and connecting pieces of things to see the greater picture.

She asks if Tim knew, and he replies that he did. He knew, and he had already destroyed a piece of evidence before.

They might have started a fight with each other that Cass becomes a part of. Soon they all give their piece on what they should do, but they all eventually agree to destroy it.

They burn the piece of history over a small fire in Cass’s apartment and share some food as they toast to a new future. Even if they all feel a little uneasy knowing that there must be more out there and they still deep down have the urge to get Bruce back, if not for varying reasons, they all know that this is right and that things will only continue to get better,

On their way back, Tim finds the name that he wants to go by Tanager.

There will be no more referring to him as the Red Robin, and there will be no more being held back as a backup. He is now back to being his vigilante, and his person.

Things continue from there. Tim is still in high school, and still makes it for Thursday game nights with his friends, and keeps grades that he hasn’t had since before he was Robin. Everything is going well.

He and Steph discover another clue while they are teaming up with a couple of other heroes on the west coast. It is an old gold rush town, and one of the houses is set up exactly how Bruce would set up a safe house with little resources. They move things around and generally remove any notion that it was Bruce who owned the house.

If they spend an extra day just exploring, no one was going to tell them no, Bruce wasn’t there to tell them that they were wasting time.

It has been a year since Bruce has been dead. They all gather together for a family meal. Dick, Tim, Damian, Stephanie, Cass, Barbra and the several animals that they have gotten since then. It’s great and they have an old memorial for him. They won’t speak ill of the dead today, but if the next weekend several pairs can be found bitching about how Bruce was, no one was going to be mad.

Within the next month, they move their base of operations out of the cave and the manor. That was Bruce, but as they were all aware they would all be more effective if they were in the centre of Gotham.

They do just that with one of the old buildings that Bruce owned. They fix it up, and they make it the head of operations on the main island of Gotham while using the Clocktower on the South Island as a secondary base, and they are in the process of setting up a base on the northern Island, but that is where Jason is holed up and none of them wants to have to deal with him right now.

They also don’t sleep in the same base they work in. They separate the two, and it does all of them well for their mental health.

It is also around this time that they all start seeing therapists start working through their problems. It was something that they needed earlier but that Bruce had refused to let them do. It makes things easier, and they are better heroes and people for it.

The shadows don’t feel so heavy anymore, and they all gradually stop looking in those shadows for Bruce. Instead, they see nothing but a shadow and a possible vantage point if needed. Not something that was going to breathe down their necks about their mistakes and how they could be doing better.

Tim starts being a full-time mentor to SDamian and takes him to the next mission of the Teen Titans.

Damian has calmed down a lot and has learned some of the joys of being a kid.

The mission was nothing world-shattering or extremely dangerous, but was something to show Damian how they worked as a team, and how working with a diverse team worked. He won’t be joining anytime soon, with him not being a teenager, but he confides in Tim later that he doesn’t want that responsibility right now. That he is still getting used to everything back in Gotham, and he isn’t ready for a complete change yet.

During the last couple of days of the mission he and Damian come across a crude version of the Cowl and Cape that Batman uses and Damian finds out about the whole Timestream issue because Tim actually tells him. Damian holds the cowl in his hands shaking with silent tears. Time is worried that Damian is going to want to bring Bruce back, but Damian asks what they can use to destroy it so that no one can find it.

They use one of the chemical acids on hand with the mission, and Damian can be found hugging Tim as Damian seems to come to terms with what is happening. When Tim later asks if Damian ever wanted to bring Bruce back, Damian answers with an honest no. He explains how he finally feels safe with everyone, and he felt like he was always being put under a microscope by his father.

He states that he might not have seen Tim as a brother if Bruce was still around, because Tim was Bruce’s Robin, but Tim was Dick’s brother which made them brothers.

Damian now has connections to outside heroes and has the beginning of a larger support system which is what he needed. People outside the family that he can trust.

Tim and Steph after months of getting professional help, working on themselves outside of each other, and a bit of maturing finally have their official start over. Not dating, but finally being people again without Bruce pushing the toxicity to a different level.

The first person that Tim tells about the whole situation, and not just letting the situation come up when it does is Helena, because he thinks she will give the most straightforward response on it.

Tim explains how everyone is doing so much better without Bruce, how Gotham has been doing so much better without Bruce, how he finally has a family, and things are finally starting to look up. How for the first time in a long time it feels like he isn’t waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Helena lets Tim rant for a bit before stating that it sounded like Bruce wasn’t a good dad, that even though at points he might not have meant it, he was being abusive.

This is the moment where someone finally puts Bruce and abusive together and it just kind of clicks. Every wrong feeling, and every right feeling. The dread, and the holding breath and waiting for disaster.

It’s a growing moment, and Tim finally has the words to put to the feelings.

Helena lets the kid cry on her couch for a bit while she grades some papers, and when Tim eventually calms down he thanks Helena for sticking around because they all needed her, and it had just taken most of them far too long to realize that.

Helena promises not to talk about the Bruce situation until he knows that no one is a flight risk.

The next, and final person to find out was Dick.

Tim and Dick don’t work together all that often in a set-up pairing. Sure they worked well together, and they were close, it was just that time undercover and working with Steph that made it so there was a bit of separation between the two that didn’t exist until now.

They are working on a case that brought them to Australia where on the investigation they found a Batcave that Bruce had set up back in time. When Tim explains everything to Dick they both feel like they are walking on eggshells and are waiting for the other one to say something.

Dick then asks how many other clues Tim has found, and Tim confesses to the whole thing.

Dick is mad because he wanted to know why Tim didn’t tell him. Tim states that he didn’t know if Dick would bring Bruce back, and if everything that had become good would disappear. Dick exclaims that if anyone would understand it would be him, and sure in the beginning he would have wanted Bruce back, but he too knows how good things have been going.

So Dick ends up having the cave upgraded to a base parameters that had been set up and it is now a location that an international team can use as a base when needed.

When they all get back and meet up for a family meal they finally all hold a discussion about the situation, and they all come to the consensus that Bruce Wayne needs to be laid to rest, and it is time for the world to move on.

They talk about how they should go about the whole thing, and how it needs to be airtight and conclusive, but not so conclusive that it looks like a cover up.

In the end they decide on having him die from an accident while on one of his benders abroad. Doing some stupid stunt that would have been ill adviced, and there was already warnings of. Bruce would be labeled as another stupid rich man that didn’t listen to the warnings of those around him and would suffer the consequences of his actions.

The media would have a field day about it, the public wouldn’t question it, and the family could get by having odd reactions because they themselves would build up the trip and say things about how dangerous it was.

The plan goes off without a hitch. A couple of weeks before the planned date of death, Tim says some things to his friends, Dick is caught having a loud phone conversation, and the media tracks down the records that have been set up about the trip. Have a couple of convincing fake IDs, a few stand-in people for some pictures and nothing is suspicious at all.

Set the trip to last a couple of weeks, and have everything go normally except for some weird weather reports and some chatter from the area. Then when teh couple of weeks are over, and Bruce doesn’t show back up everyone starts getting antsy.

At that point have Tim get picked up early from school during the middle of the day when the press is already on edge, and have a teary moment of realization, and hock line and sinker.

Only one of the fake IDS makes it barely alive out of the trip and suddenly Bruce is dead on an ill-advised trip, and there is nobody to bring back, but have a funeral anyway.

During the funeral, they do actually cry, and not just for the press that is hounding their backs but because they are finally closing that chapter of their lives, and can properly move into something better.

Bruce is now dead to the world, and he is no longer a shadow hanging over everyone else.

In the will left behind, they find that a lot of the money was being donated to Wayne charities, with a significant amount still being put in personal accounts for Dick, Tim, Damian, and Cass. That the manor and all other Wayne properties were not to be sold.

They decide as a family that they can do more for Gotham than what Bruce was doing, and they start renovating a lot of the other properties for new housing, and public spaces that people could use. They open up new shelters for people that will be safe, and centres where people can take free classes to help them on the path to GEDs or training for skilled jobs.

They start putting Wayne's name behind people in the city government and making reforms on a city level.

Because yes busting up a frug trade and saving kidnap victims work, but it will only continue to happen if people are not given teh opportunities to move up in life.

The company goes international and starts making waves all around the world by helping many other people. It also serves as a source of information that they would not normally be able to get.

Everything is getting better.

Tim graduates high school, something that Tim hadn’t even thought he would do for the longest time. Not because he struggled with school, but compared to everything else that was going on it didn’t seem all that important. True he still didn’t see it as all that important, but he was learning to live his life. Something that he hadn’t been doing for a very long time.

Sure his grades would never recover from what the classes he missed, the switching of schools, and the effect that No Man’s Land has on someone’s schooling. So to say that Tim wasn’t going to be a Valedictorian was an understatement. However, he pulled through since things have been getting better and he had a decent report card now. Not that it would matter as Tim still wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to do after this, but it was nice to be a kid and just have to worry about grades and friends sometimes. Something he didn’t really allow himself to do.

It’s his graduation. The whole family, his friends, and other people who are important to him show up. When his name gets called he shakes hands with the principal and later throws his hat up into the sky, he can’t help but wish that Bruce was there to congratulate him. Wish that he was there to say how proud of him he was, but he knew that wasn’t going to happen.

He pushes aside the thought and goes to meet up with his family, his significant other, and his friends.

He takes pictures with multiple different groups of them as they all laugh. Afterwards, it's just the small family group as they make their way to a local family diner and have a good family meal together.

Two weeks down the line Jason shows up at one of the cases where multiple Bats are working and helps them with the information that he has collected.

This is the start of Jason coming back.

It is slow going, and for many of them they aren’t ready to forgive, but Bruce isn’t here to tell any of them that they are doing anything wrong, and because Bruce isn’t here they will all work together to get things done with this case.

The case takes a while, but Jason is slowly being folded back into the group.

During that time the manor is finally sold. None of them holds anything with the manor. The original was rebuilt from the quake, and they are ready to move on. The cave has been hidden away and cleaned of anything that would show people were there. The land is turned into a large nature area.

Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn show up and they can now be found frequenting the area. It is the start of many green and nature building projects that will be soon put into effect around Gotham. Ones that soon start to change the communities for the better.

Tim and Jason don’t interact much. Mostly because Tim and his therapist have talked and he isn’t mentally ready for that yet, but also because things aren’t stable enough right now for things to go wrong.

However, they sometimes work together on larger cases, mostly with a third person to be the middle ground just in case something goes wrong. In one of these cases, they come across another thing Bruce has left behind in the Timestream. It’s Stephanie with them this time so he hopes that things don’t go too wrong.

Jason is mad at first, but they soon start having a discussion that is the most level-headed and emotional in a while. Jason comes to understand the situation and they become brothers.

Jason is the next one to hang up a mantle that was just prolonging his pain. Red Hood goes into the box, and a new vigilante can be seen on the streets.

It’s finally a whole family again. It isn’t perfect but they are growing closer and better with every passing day. It isn’t always a good day though.

There are still nights when they will wake up in the med bay, in their apartment, in a safe house, in the Belfry, in the main house. There are times when they wake up that they cry and look around for Bruce, for Batman. Whether it be as a threat or to look for any form of comfort.

Sometimes they cry into their hands, the sheets, a pillow, a stuffed animal, and the sleeves of their clothes, and just want things to go back to the way they were. Sometimes they remember that things could go back to the way they were. They know clues are out there waiting to be found.

But they soon calm down and know they don’t want to. That they have healed, grown, and become better people because of Bruce not being there. As hard as it can be to admit some days.

So they keep hiding the clues, keep doing family dinners, and inviting friends and their teams over, and Gotham is slowly healing too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Side Stories:

A side story on Stephanie and her growth into being the new Batgirl, becoming family with her mom again, interacting with the new normal, and growing up without toxic fathers and mentors holding her back.

A side story on Jason and what he was doing between the time he was finished with his Batman rampage, his coming back to the family, and his growth as a character and realizing that things are changing. Also Jason’s perspective on the announcement of Bruce Wayne’s death, and the final realization that Bruce won’t be coming back.

A side story on Damain and adapting to a new culture and place with people he slowly grows to see as family. It would focus on him learning to be a kid and learning to accept the grief he has for the family he won’t get to have, but also growing to love the family that he does have.

A side story on Cass, and her experiences with the grief of losing Bruce, her time in Hong Kong, and eventually coming back into the family. (I need to do more research before I decide what I want to do with Cass)

A side story on just the way that the media has been handling everything and the articles and news segments that have been coming out on the whole thing. This would focus more on how life in Gotham has changed from an outside perspective. It would cover some of the major events and even have some exclusive stuff like an interview or two that other characters did.

A side story on Cass and Helena finally having a talk about things when they are forced to team up during their separate cases/missions. Includes a lot of discussion on the morality of killing or letting someone be killed, and the legacy of the Batgirl that was not meant to be and the Batgirl that was chosen to be.

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tmntkiseki · 2 months

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At this point, I think I've finalized most of my general ideas for my 2003 version of Venus (which, honest to god, might as well be treated as an OC.)

Backstory

Originally a human; has a little sister four years younger than her

Was transformed into an anthropomorphic turtle, alongside her sister, through Japanese sorcery; in other words, she's more of a yōkai rather than a mutant proper.

Neither of the girls can remember their human identities as a result of their transformation. Kon of the Ninja Tribunal has a theory as to why given what the ritual was supposed to do, but I'm keeping that detail to myself for the time being.

The Ancient One was the one who gave the girls their names; Venus, in this case, refers to Sandro Botticelli's The Birth of Venus. Her younger sister was named for another of Botticelli's paintings: Primavera.

For their safety, Venus and Primavera ended up being taken to an old shrine in the mountains to be raised by the head priest, a man of mixed Japanese-Chinese descent and former pupil of the Ninja Tribunal named Imai Jun Hie (pronounced "chuyn-hee-e.") Venus and Primavera would end up adopting Jun Hie's surname, solidifying their identities as Imai Venus and Imai Primavera.

Despite being turtle yōkai, Jun Hie raised the girls as his own daughters and trained them in the arts of ninjutsu. Venus would ultimately receive the tessen as her weapon, while Primavera found she was most suited to wield the yumi.

While meditating one day, Venus's consciousness briefly managed to travel to the astral plane, where she witnessed four dragons flying through the sky together. Although she wasn't certain what to make of the vision when she returned to the physical world, she was certain that the four dragons were important people she was meant to meet one day. (She was, in particular, drawn to the blue dragon.)

Venus and Primavera lived for many years in peace and quiet. Unfortunately, their peaceful lives were shattered on the day that the shrine was attacked. Jun Hie was killed and Primavera spirited away, leaving Venus alone. Distraught, she sought out the Ancient One and, when she described the people who attacked her home, he urged her to travel to New York City in the United States, as there was no doubt in his mind that her sister had been taken there.

"And Venus-san?" "Yes, Ancient One?" "Should you meet him, be sure to give Splinter-san my regards."

Personality and Interests

Venus's personality is something of a mix of Leonardo and Donatello's. As an older sister, she's very responsible and would die if it meant keeping Primavera safe, but she's considerably gentler and has an almost motherly disposition to her. She's also more easily swayed to stop training for the day to let loose and relax; Mikey goes so far as to jokingly tell Leo that "Venus is you, but not boring." (Leo is not amused.)

In general, Venus strives to be a good big sister to Prim and will beat herself up quite a bit if something happens to her or she does something to upset/hurt her. She also tends to quietly bury her personal troubles and keep them to herself, only ever vaguely alluding to her issues with low self-esteem and believing others are more deserving than she is.

Primavera eventually admits that Venus's tendency towards caring for others is likely to distract herself from the "dark thoughts" that plague her mind every day. Venus considers it ironic that she was named for a painting depicting the Roman goddess of love, as she firmly believes herself to be a "selfish, wretched monster" who could never be loved. This stems from an incident shortly after she came to live at Jun Hie's shrine where she revealed herself to some children her age, who accused her of being a demon and ran away.

Let's just say that the eventual choice to stay in New York and help the turtles out in their battles rather than return to Japan ends up being the best thing to happen to her. Experiencing the unconditional love given to her by Splinter and The Boys not only helps Venus realize that she's always been loved, but that she has only become more loved as time has gone on.

As she and Primavera served as miko at Jun Hie's shrine, she's quite fond of creating traditional Japanese amulets and talismans in her spare time; Primavera, Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello, Michelangelo, and Splinter all have authentic omamori that she made herself.

Subsequently, she's a strong believer in symbols of good look and kami, often muttering a short prayer in Japanese before a fight. She also still practices the kagura associated with her shrine despite no longer performing it.

While Venus can speak English very well and can easily hold a conversation despite it not being her first language, she does struggle quite a bit with American slang and sayings. She also tends to default to Japanese honorifics, such as calling Leonardo "Leonardo-san" or Raphael "Raphael-san."

Miscellaneous

Venus's mask/associated color is white. I haven't decided on her scale colors, but I keep flip flopping between the colors used for her in the IDW comics or a similar shade to Leo (albeit slightly lighter.)

She's affectionately called "Vee" or "Vean Bean" by the turtles; Primavera almost exclusively refers to her as "Nee-chan."

At her "adult height," Venus only stands at about 5'3"

Other hobbies: Reading, cooking, origami, basket weaving (Primavera likes to hide in them)

Favorite music: Traditional Japanese, J-pop and J-rock, Elton John

Favorite foods: Japanese sweets (especially taiyaki), sushi, noodles, soups, hot dogs

#teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #tmnt venus #tmnt oc #primavera #If it wasn't obvious; I'm trying to better incorporate all the mystic/magic stuff from Season 5 #Man I wish I had a sketch of her or sth but I tried drawing her earlier and it was not turning out well

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mushroom-for-art · 1 year

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So due to bad eyesight and just woke up brain fog I thought a mew drawing @phlurrii did had extra arms and I stole and snatched that idea with my little grubby mushroom mittens, so introducing Vismay! Who I suppose is my art world equivalent of an ancient/old/experimental mew made by Arceus! So credit where credits due they are inspired by Meau being an ancient mew

Lore mcthoughts:

I don't think Vismay was made intentionally by Arceus, my thinking is Arceus was creating some of the original Pokémon so obviously his direct kids Giratina then the twins Palkia and Dialga then likely started on the concept of what would become mews. I know logically he probably poofed them into existence from nothing/stardust or something but I like the idea of Arceus trying to intentionally craft and mold their designs from whatever resources they had brain is basically imagining the big guy struggling to do clay sculpting with his nubby feetsies. Regardless he morphed Vismays form with the elements available weaving the sparkles of stars and elemental space dust ect into their shape (ngl I am taking mental inspiration from the creation of the listener dragon from the last dragon chronicles who's name escapes me (Its Ganzfeld, we love him) but he's a very special boy made from stars snow and his ears the exhaled breath of a polar bear very cool visual stuff love that series so if u know what I'm referencing fuck yea go you) and crafted extra arms possibly it was somewhat like that painting of man with multiple arms but for moveability reference check he'd put the arms on right but then Vismay came to life unexpectedly likely because he felt complete like Arceus had molded the perfect vessel and the essence of a soul immediately burst a flame into existence because this was them this was who they were and they were alive!

This is why they're called Vismay which means surprise because when the body went from vague form to suddenly puffed with fur and color and blinking wide and awake Arceus probably got quite the shock.

So Vismay was the first 'mew' to be created but like Meau he's the 'mew' before the true mew/the mew we're familiar with. Arceus probably tried to recreate this because hm one isn't enough but the others didn't take life, so he redesigned them a bit making them smaller as like Meau Vismay is bigger than a standard mew probably about 3 foot? Maybe more, who knows. And removing the second arms streamlining the fluff until the first true mews were created to help with maintaining the earth and being the parents of the subsequent other mews I've designed later down the line.

These mews probably reproduced through the flower method we love thank you xxtc for creating it's amazing, the DNA exchange method were they would exchange DNA segments with other mews to create an offspring that has other mew DNA or even have DNA of other Pokémon to create mews with features like that of the other Pokémon parent but still pure mew, kinda like how Randall belonging to Loupy is more long and Meinshao (and when I say exchange I do just imagine them handing a glowing sparkly dna orb to another mew consentually to absorb and then they exchange a sparkle orb back but they probably can also do it organically, mews can fuck as a treat) or I imagine there was probably a third option for when a mew felt that they were done and had lived where their body would in essence disintegrate but their DNA information would be all scrambled and rearranged and a new adult mew would form from the old mew phoenix style or mew kits would be left if the DNA split into smaller bits and those kittens were usually adopted by other mews.

Vismay probably helped watch over and protect the mews as the world was new and feral, he probably has higher stats than a normal mew because he's bigger and stronger so he's like a tanky protector but I imagine modern day he's doesn't really have any mews to protect anymore mainly because I doubt any of the mew siblings he originally had really exist anymore? I feel like every mew he knew probably rebirthed themselves and the generations of mews to follow never really learnt of him they don't realise his significance to their origins because it's lost to time really. So he's kind of become obsolete with time in a cruel twist of fate way.

He gets by on his own though, he still helps with maintaining of species in the Pokémon world, honestly I feel he really enjoys watching new Pokémon start to evolve, he notices a fish Pokémon with a random genetic difference that's beneficial and observes them survive watches them evolve the evolution still expressing this trait which is still beneficial in evolution and watches them have young some also with that trait watching it continue for generations the advantage the specialisation the recoloring redesigning as they start to fill in a new niche in the ecosystem until, they're something entirely new! Watching the process never gets old as they grow so unexpectedly and he can't help but feel proud of them they did that all on their own.

Of course he also feels great sorrow misery and dispair when another species fades from existence because of environmental change they can't adapt to fast enough or because they just don't work in an ecosystem anymore, he makes sure to save their DNA sequence learn it recognise remember it inside himself and take with that the memories of this wonderful species promising the last member the confused lonely endling that it's okay, I will be with you you're not alone, and I will remember you I will remember each and every one of you forever all of you will continue to exist within me, you did so so good you were perfect even I'm so proud, you have no idea how much your kind has shaped this place the environment the landscape the other species and even the folklore that will be saved and told by humans the imagery created about you. You are so so special and you've done so wonderfully and you're allowed to rest now you've done all you can and you did it so well, I'll be here, you won't be alone, and maybe I'll see you again and I promise I will impart your history to the newly fledged evolved kin and I will watch over them and love them as I've loved you.

He has witness so much new life and so much death, he understands the cycle well and knows all he can do is watch and learn and love. He likely possesses the potential to create so many lost species from having their dna saved inside him but he wouldn't resurrect something for it to only die again confused and struggling.

Though I can see him using his abilities to add old dna into a species with dwindling members because by reintroducing old dna it would suddenly and vastly improve the gene pool and saving the species, he will do this where it is not their fault that their numbers dwindled and where the species could still survive and they should thrive it's just the gene pool that's an issue, he won't do it with a species that is barely in a survivable environment because that'd just be introducing young to a place they will die. Though, I suppose if there was dna that could be safely added and they could theoretically adapt he may try to give them a boost of a trait that could be advantageous and lead to them evolving a new type or trait to better suit the environment if it's possible.

He does what he can where he can. I like him a lot I'm very attached to them tbh and I'm really happy with how they turned out.

Acquaintances can call him Vis but he only let his original mew siblings call him Vissy because it's a cute nickname of his name and he wouldn't want strangers calling him that it's more casual and fun saved for family plus it's kinda like Fizzy also a fun alternative probably from the second generation of mew kits who called him uncle Fizzy and his original siblings probably also would in sibling tease call him Sissy like sister on days where he felt feminine leaning but Sissy from them for him was always in a none gendered way and didn't mean girl.

Maya is also an off limits nickname saved only for again his original siblings and perhaps anyone he did feel close enough to to let them call him that, fun fact Vismaya is the feminine version of his name and I wanted to make them a bit ambiguous, he leaning but somewhat feminine and although Vismay is He/They, Maya is probably for slightly feminine leaning they days without fully committing to the She pronoun, so if he let's you call him Maya he probably trusts you to fully understand and respect his pronoun choice and to use Maya in a way that is in no way she/her. Mews can be something that are so gender complex.

Also Vismays original sketch just for fun since the eyeliner patterns weren't originally there, also he has a big ass forehead XD

#my art #my oc #Vismay the old mew #Mew oc #Old world mew oc #Don't really think he counts as an ancient mew #But he's certainly old world #Vismay the old world mew #pokemon #I love him so much

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when-we-drive-away-in-secret · 2 years

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OKAY so there's a massive theory post incoming that I will link here when it's done (tldr: Beatrice was a Firestarter), but writing it has led me to think of a second, smaller theory that I wanted to share so here goes

So, it's always bugged me that the Baudelaire parents' will was vague enough that Olaf could exploit it. Surely these two intelligent, well-read people who not only work for but were literally raised by a secret organisation that deals in codes and hidden information... would ensure that their legal documents were airtight? The phrase 'fool proof' comes to mind - yes, Mr. Poe is absolutely responsible for bungling the execution of their will so horrifically, but also, it literally should not have been possible. Why was the wording not more clear? Why not say Monty's name - or better yet, give a whole list of names, in order of priority, so that there could be absolutely no confusion? How could they have possibly left something as important as the fate of their children so open to interpretation?

Unless their will was designed that way. If I'm right about Beatrice being a Firestarter, then she would have presumably wanted her children to be looked after by a Firestarter as well. But, if Bertrand was, in fact, a Volunteer, than she couldn't just say that. So, she devised a plan. Here are three quotes from The Bad Beginning highlighting the most important parts of the Baudelaire will:

“Your parents' will,” Mr. Poe said, “instructs that you be raised in the most convenient way possible.”

“He is not your closest relative on the family tree, but he is the closest geographically.”

“I'm sorry to tell you this, children, but I cannot allow you to be raised by someone who is not a relative.”

So, the will specified that they wanted their children to go to the closest living relative, to be raised in the most convenient way possible. As we know, to Bertrand, this obviously specified Monty - of course "closest living relative" should be interpreted as the biologically closest, instead of geographically. But it is, as Mr. Poe demonstrates, up for interpretation. So, the question remains, who did Beatrice intend her children to end up in the care of? Who is technically (or at least, legally - I do think VFD doctored the records to say that their recruits were all distantly related for precisely this sort of situation) a relative, no matter how biologically distant, that lives within the City limits and would therefore be incredibly convenient?

The answer is, of course, Esmé Squalor.

I think Esmé was always supposed to be the children's guardian - and I think she would have been an incredibly good one... if, of course, Beatrice hadn't stolen the sugar bowl. But I do wholeheartedly believe that she had no idea how badly that would affect her relationship with Esmé. I think she genuinely believed it would be a minor argument at worst - but justifiable with VFD's typical reasoning of 'The Greater Good' - and she certainly never imagined Esmé would mistreat her children over it. This theory is all but proven by a quote from The Ersatz Elevator:

“I wanted to adopt you from the moment I heard about the fire. But, unfortunately, it was impossible.” “Orphans were out then,”

According to this conversation, the only reason Jerome and Esmé weren't the Baudelaires' original guardians is because Esmé didn't want to be. Perhaps Mr. Poe even contacted them initially, and Esmé declined - it would certainly explain why she wasn't considered until the sixth book, when she fits all of the criteria better than every other candidate - she lives only a few streets away from the Baudelaire mansion at the time of TEE (and though she likely lived somewhere else in TBB, it would have had to be within the City limits due to her job, and was probably just somewhere else on Dark Avenue, considering that it's the most fashionable street in the City. Knowing Esmé, she might have even lived in another apartment at 667) and she must have been a relative - no matter how distant - for Mr. Poe to send the children to her that early on (as it's only in The Vile Village that we see him beginning to ignore that portion of the Baudelaire will due to having exhausted his options, and even then we see that he has a whole list of other relatives that he hadn't asked until the start of that book)

In conclusion, I think Beatrice's biggest mistake was stealing the sugar bowl, because not only did it deprive her children of a guardian with the means to look after them, train them to join VFD, protect them, and offer them support and comfort (if you doubt that Esmé was good with kids, I urge you to look at how she treated Carmelita), but it also gained them a frankly terrifying enemy, who was just as relentless in her pursuit and desire for revenge as Olaf

#asoue #beatrice baudelaire #esmé squalor #Various Fastidious Dissections

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lord-of-gender · 3 years

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A Small Problem - Part 2

Once again my inspiration comes from @deyageka

Word count: 1960

Syndicate Meeting

"Perhaps if we-" Phil was saying as Ranboo came into the meeting room, with Tommy right at his heels. It had been two months since they originally found him in the prison and Ranboo had volunteered to watch him that day, completely forgetting about the meeting. He knew he didn't have to come, but it was a good excuse to finally tell them about Tommy.

"Hi, sorry I'm late," Ranboo said awkwardly, knowing the other explanation that he would have to give.

"Hallo!" Tommy said cheerily, moving to stand next to Ranboo, some paper and coloring pigments in his arms.

"What the actual fuck," Phil said, he did a double take when he saw Tommy.

"Heh!?" Techno exclaimed, of all the things he expected, a young Tommy was not on the list. "How?! I thought you said he was dead."

"No, no, no, don't tell me that's Tommy," Niki said, shaking her head.

"Yes, he did die, but Dream revived him," Ranboo said, shifting from foot to foot, "I think that's what happened. Sam found him in the prison like this."

"So that's why you asked me, Tommy couldn't keep his mouth shut," Phil muttered, talking about when Ranboo asked about the old Empire. He knew Ghostbur wouldn't have remembered it, or else he would have mentioned it to him.

"I'm the Empire-er," Tommy went up to Techhno and held up a wooden sword, he also wore the paper crown he made. "Like you."

"Be quiet," Techno growled, Tommy backed away, this wasn't the Technoblade he remembered. The boy ran over to Ranboo and buried his head in his shirt. Ranboo could feel his shirt start to get wet as Tommy started to cry. What had he done wrong? Why was Techno mad at him?

"Oh my gosh, Tommy are you okay," Ranboo knelt down to Tommy's level, taking out a cloth so he wouldn't get wet from the boy's tears.

"Tech-no does-n't like me," Tommy sobbed, sniffling between words.

"Oh, I'm sure that's not true," Ranboo said, he looked back at Phil and Niki, silently asking them for help. "He's just surprised to see you."

"I just want Wilbur," Tommy said, his cries starting to die down and reduce to hiccups. "Sam pwomised he would find him."

"He doesn't know," Phil asked, at this age Tommy had idolized Techno and Wilbur. He followed Techno around everywhere and wanted to know everything about him.

"Know, what," Tommy sniffed, using his sleeve to wipe off mucus. "What don't I know?"

"A few months ago," Phil came over and crouched in front of Tommy. "Something happened and-"

"It might be better to find Gho-Wilbur first to tell him," Techno said, the voices had been telling him one of two things. To protect Tommy as all costs, or to kill Tommy for being an orphan. "Who's watching him? Or is he an orphan?"

"I- uh- Sam is mainly taking care of him, so no, he's not an orphan," Ranboo stuttered, knowing a bit of Techno's history with orphans.

"I mean last time I checked I wasn't fucking dead," Phil chuckled, Niki started giggling.

"So what's the plan for today," Ranboo asked, he picked up Tommy as the boy kept pulling on his shirt.

"We're going to do some recon on the Egg," Techno said, "Phil received an invitation to some banquet so we're going to check it out beforehand."

"So I probably shouldn't have brought him," Ranboo said, talking about Tommy as he started to nod off.

"Can't we take him to Snowchester," Phil said, subtly asking if Tommy could stay with Micheal.

"I don't know, Tubbo's not going to be there for a while. He and Jack are busy doing something," Ranboo didn't know what it was there were doing, but it seemed important to Tubbo. And he didn't want Sam to get mad at him for leaving Tommy alone for a little bit.

"He'll be fine alone," Phil said, "We used to do that all the time when he was originally this age."

"You are a terrible parent," Ranboo said.

"Okay mate," Phil rolled his eyes, "you can't be speaking here. Especially not about that shit."

"I wanna stay here," Tommy piped in.

"We could talk to Puffy on our way," Techno said.

"Auntie Puffy!" Tommy said excitedly, bouncing in Ranboo's arms. At the mention of Puffy he had brightened up and got energetic again.

"I guess we have our answer then," Niki laughed.

"Are you good to stay here by yourself for a bit," Ranboo asked. Tommy shook his head and pointed at Niki, she seemed nice.

"Huh, he didn't mind staying home when I took care of him," Phil said.

"Well we think he might have vague memories of what happened in his past," Ranboo lowered his voice and put Tommy down to let him walk over to Niki. "Sometimes he'll just freeze when coming near lava or even a Nether Portal. We've noticed that most of the time he hates being alone."

"I want to stay wif you," Tommy said to Niki.

"I don't know, Puffy and I don't have the greatest history," Niki said, then looked down at Tommy's face as he started to pout. "But I can't say no to you. You are absolutely adorable. Okay, just this once."

"Go now," Tommy waved at them as he sat in the chair next to Niki.

"He does that alot," Ranboo chuckled, "see you later, Tommy."

"Okay Ranboo," Tommy pulled out Clementine from his inventory and made airplane noises as he moved it in the air. Ranboo, Techno, and Philza left the meeting room as Niki laughed with Tommy.

"I haven't seen him like that since," Phil started but trailed off.

"Well of course not, he's a little kid again," Ranboo said.

"Pogtopia," Techno finished for Phil, "he has that light in his eyes again. I remember when we were building that big obnoxious tower, but it made him happy."

"How long had Tommy been with you," Ranboo asked.

"I found him when he was four or five," Phil said, "Wilbur is my only biological son. I adopted Tubbo when he was five as well."

"It's still weird seeing Tommy at that age again," Techno said.

"Yeah, I can't imagine how much of a shock it was when I brought him in there," Ranboo said, he should have thought about it beforehand.

"Oh we were surprised for sure," Philza laughed.

After the trip through the Nether to the community portal they found Bad, Ant, and Punz waiting right outside of the portal. How were they supposed to tell Puffy now?

"Hello, Philza," Punz said, "I didn't think you'd only have two people coming with you."

"Our fourth member is on her way," Techno said, "don't try and threaten us. We have all the power here."

"Ranboo, go talk to Puffy," Phil whispered to him. "Gentlemen, there's no need to fight. We were just curious about the meaning of this invitation I received."

"Ah yes, the banquet," Ant said, "the egg has realized it over stepped a bit, so we've been cleaning up some of the vines and are holding a festival of sorts as a formal apology to the server. You are all invited, we just wanted Phil as a guest of honor."

"Well I'm pretty sure the last time I went to a festival, it didn't turn out well," Techno chuckled, but the voices had raised a good question. Why Phil?

"We swear it won't end like those," Bad said, "I mean we aren't L'Manburg after all."

"Maybe Techno would be more convinced if we saw this change ourselves," Phil said as he spotted Puffy coming towards them, then messaged Niki. Ranboo rejoined the group.

"Of course," Bad said turning around, allowing Puffy to go around them then enter the Nether.

"So uh, where's Skeppy," Ranboo asked, he'd heard from Sam that he had also been infected. "I haven't seen him around recently."

"We don't know," Punz said, "haven't seen him in a while."

"So when you say everyone is invited, who does this include," Phil asked, if they invited the whole server this could be a problem. Tommy couldn't just be left alone for a few hours, but the last thing they wanted was to take him near the Egg.

"Well everyone, except for Dream of course," Bad said, "but alot have said they'll be busy and unable to make it." They walked along the prime path where huge vines used to be, it appeared that they had been cleaned up. Soon Niki caught up with then.

"So what's going on," She asked, holding a cheerful expression to disguise the fact they were hiding something.

"We were just telling them about the banquet," Bad said, "you're coming, right Niki?"

"Of course, I wouldn't miss it," She said.

Something about the banquet and how similar it was to the L'Manburg festivals didn't sit right with Techno. To make matters worse he had just received a message from Quackity.

"I have to do something, you guys can fill me in when we get back," Techno said, he noticed Phil's questioning expression. "Don't worry it has nothing to do with my favor."

"See you later Techno," Ranboo said, he had been wondering the same thing but didn't want to say anything.

"Yeah, I'll say hi to the kid for you," Techno said. It was a throw away comment, but it seemed to interest Bad.

"Kid?" He asked, after checking that Techno was out of hearing range Ranboo responded with: "Yeah, me and Tubbo adopted."

"Oh, you mean Michael," Bad said, he'd heard about the young zombie piglin.

"We were going to Snowchester afterwards," Phil said, easily going along with Ranboo's lie.

"Yeah! You know, every member is important," Niki said, she had no idea who they were talking about, but she could use what they had said to play along.

“Well we should probably let you guys do that,” Bad said, he wasn’t sure if it was time to show them the Egg. No, it wasn’t, they had enough evidence from them to go to the banquet.

“Yes, you’re right,” Ranboo was getting uneasy, he didn’t like anything about the Egg or the Eggpire.

“See you the 25th!”

#ask and ye shall receive #ranboo #syndicate technoblade #childinnit #i hope you like it cause this is the last of the fluff #prepare for angst in the next part #crimson egg #eggpire #nihachu #philza

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hxseok-honee · 3 years

Text

atlas heart || part 25

a/n : so sorry it took so long getting this update out !! i had a disgusting amount of work to do and i really was not doing anything else for a few days -- i really hope you like it!! pls lmk what you think about things now that jimin (and we) know everything! its gonna get,,,, i wanna say messy but messys not even enough to cover how messy its gonna get

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________________________________

Jimin can’t remember the last time he’d closed his eyes for more than a few minutes. Time goes by so fast these days that he’s partially convinced he’s been falling asleep and not realizing it. The hours between class and dinner every day are spent in the library, his headphones shoved into his ears haphazardly while he tunnel visions onto what’s been in the back of his mind since the beginning of the year.

Those spare hours had turned into days and days into weeks -- weekends where he doesn’t even glance at his phone, unaware of the growing concern of his friends. It’s almost May now, the chill of early spring having melted away around him without him realizing. His schoolwork stopped being a priority ages ago, and he knows his grades are really taking the hit for it. He vaguely remembers Namjoon confronting him one night some time ago -- a week? Two weeks ago? -- but he can’t for the life of him recall the contents of that conversation. Something about hating to play the ‘prefect card’, but having no choice. He doesn’t even know if he’s still on the quidditch team. It doesn’t matter -- nothing matters when seeing everything with the perspective he’s got now.

Practically buried in scrolls and books, Jimin could care less about the time and the fact that he’s very obviously breaking curfew right now -- the library’s been empty for hours now, and the light outside the window has well past faded into pitch black darkness. He had to hide from Pince around 10pm, barely managing to catch the click of the librarian’s heels through the music blasting in his headphones to keep him concentrated -- it’s a miracle that she hadn't caught him, really. He’d never be able to focus properly back in his room, not when he’s this close to putting the pieces together.

It’s there, right there, everything scattered in his brain. He knows it’s sitting right in front of him, he can feel himself trying to hyperfocus on anything that can blatantly tell him what he needs to know. Flipping through the pages of a book with one hand and shuffling through scrolls with his other, he glances down at a scrap of paper with his own handwriting, chicken-scratch on a ripped up piece of parchment for him to refer back to every few minutes. There, in black ink, the words ‘vampire’ and ‘veela’ are written and then, later, crossed out. There’s one below it -- ‘maledictus’ -- that remains uncrossed and haunts his every thought.

For the better half of the week, he’d spent his nights scouring the bookshelves for any text he could find on blood malediction -- there isn’t much to show for his efforts. Too rare a condition to have any extensive research done, he could barely manage to put together a few measly scrolls and one book with less than a full chapter on the subject. Sighing heavily, Jimin leans back in his chair, rubbing at his temples while he reconsiders the information for what feels like the hundredth time.

It fits the fact that she has a blood condition… but it’s not right. There’s no mention of a potion or even of regularly experiencing sickness. Y/n is in the Hospital Wing like once a month. There wouldn’t be anything Pomfrey or Hoseok could do to help her if she was a maledictus…

He considers that maybe those things are part of blood malediction and that there just isn’t enough documentation for him to verify it. But there’s something nagging at him, telling him this isn’t right. He thinks back over everything he knows, trying to pull up the major details that could help him finally get some sleep. Ignoring the fact that he very well could doze off, even with his loud ass music, he lets his eyes close so he can think. It takes a few minutes, but eventually he’s sitting up in his seat, eyes wide as he recalls something said to him almost months ago, forgotten amidst everything else on his mind.

“What’s the deal with your roommate, Tae?”

“Who, Stephen?”

“No, not fuckin’ Stephen -- Jungkook!”

“Well, how the hell was I supposed to know?”

“Because Stephen doesn’t look at me like I’m the bane of his existence.”

“Yeah… I don’t know what you did to make Jeon Jungkook hate you, but it must have be serious--”

“Just tell me what you know about him, Tae.”

“I mean… nothing crazy, really -- an only child, comes from old money. Probably as old as the Malfoys or the Potters. His family’s the purest of purebloods. And always Gryffindors, just like the Malfoys are always Slytherins. It’s kind of nuts, having a family history like that.”

Jimin stumbles out of his chair, already making his way down the aisles of bookshelves, almost crazed with concentration.

Purest of purebloods -- there’s not a single pureblood family that isn’t documented in a registry… registry… regis-- aha!

Turning down an aisle designated for family registries dating back centuries, he scans the shelves at a lightening speed, finally coming to a halt in front of a tome titled Gryffindor Legacies. Hauling it from the shelf, he doesn’t even bother returning to his table, taking a seat right there on the floor.

Flipping straight to the back to search for the family name, he locates it easily and heads to appropriate page. Searching the family tree down generations, it takes him several pages of flipping through Jungkook’s ancestors’ lives to finally get to his parents. They’re the most recent entry -- new editions of the book are printed with each new generation, the original, handwritten copy belonging to the respective families. It’s an inefficient system for sure, but Jimin’s not exactly complaining when he’s the one benefiting directly.

Scanning the page, from the birth of his mother -- Jeon Eunha -- to her school days, from her marriage to his father all the way to Jungkook’s birth. Jimin expects the next part to follow the same structure of his mother’s story, recounting his childhood, but it diverges from that almost immediately with some extra lines that he almost feels don’t exist in the original copy at the Jeon family residence.

Not long after the birth of their first and only child, they were met with circumstances leading to the adoption and care of another, the recently orphaned infant girl, Y/n Y/l/n. In her days at Hogwarts, young Eunha had become friends with a female Ravenclaw student, who had a noticeably sickly pallor about her at all times. She was to become her closest lifelong friend. The same night in which Y/l/n was to give birth to her first child, she and her husband met an untimely fate in the form of a violent animal attack in the backyard of their own home. The Jeon family were the first to arrive at the premises, deciding immediately to take in the infant child and raise her alongside their own son. Not much else is known about the girl, only that she and the Jeon heir were to become inseparable.

Jimin stares down at the page, unblinking. There’s a lot of information to process, but the things that stand out most to him are the fact that Y/n’s mother was also apparently afflicted with the same illness as Y/n, and --

‘Violent animal attack’? I knew the car accident thing was bullshit, but… did her mom not even die in childbirth? Why would she not tell me… there’s nothing suspicious about an animal atta--

Almost like his brain has started to short-circuit after the long nights and lack of sleep, Jimin’s thoughts are gone instantly, replaced by the mental image of a book sitting not a even a few aisles away, on a table littered with all of the information he’d ever needed in the first place. He’s completely incapable of registering anything around him as he races back to his table, his mind flipping incomprehensibly between the information in front of him and all of the pieces of his memories, details that make too much sense in this moment to match anything but this one conclusion.

Most Muggles, however, will die from the extent of their injuries… all known instances of Muggle attacks have been portrayed in the media as ‘animal attacks’ so as to preserve the secrecy of the wizarding world…

Given the extent of the available research and data, collected almost entirely from male subjects afflicted with lycanthropy, not much is known about the hereditary components related to a female werewolf. Therefore, it is unknown if a pregnant female werewolf's transformations would affect the ability to carry the pregnancy to term…

Without any humans nearby to attack, or other animals to occupy it, the werewolf will attack itself out of frustration…

“My mom died in childbirth and my dad… just a… just a freak accident you know, no one’s fault or anything…”

Because werewolves only pose a danger to humans, companionship with animals whilst transformed has been known to make the experience more bearable as the werewolf has no-one to harm and will be less willing to harm themselves…

“You want to talk about forbidden, Jeon? Let’s talk about your illegal animagus status-”

The way one must imbibe it is very unique among potions, in that a goblet full of wolfsbane potion must be taken each day for a week preceding the full moon…

“…you know how long it takes me to make a full set of vials for you. I barely have enough to make it last 3 days…”

The monthly transformation of a werewolf is extremely painful if untreated and is usually preceded and succeeded by a few days of pallor and ill health…

“He was lowkey carrying her down the stairs… she looked kinda sick actually…”

Throwing scrolls behind him without care as he searches for the one with the final detail, he pulls his phone out when he finds it -- a book listing all of the recorded moon cycles for over a century. Jamming his thumb down on the icon that’ll take him to his search engine and typing with blind panic, he finds himself yanking out his headphones by the cord with one sharp tug when the answer flashes back at it him on the screen, and he realizes that almost all of the pieces are in place.

The quidditch match against Slytherin -- it was the night before a full moon.

“No, no… no, no, no, this can’t be right. This isn’t happening, this can’t be right, she can’t be--” Jimin remembers the text he’d sent to her almost 8 hours ago, sitting unanswered, and he moves without thinking. Slamming his hands down on either side of the moon cycle record, he flips frantically to the cycle for this current month, April of 1978. What he sees there has his heart dropping out of his chest.

“Next week? It’s next week? But that means she’d have to be feeling the effects of it this wee--” He’s cut off by the feeling of his phone buzzing in his pocket, and he reaches for it almost desperately. It’s Y/n, finally responding to his concerned texts with nothing more than a single line. His blood turns to ice when he reads it.

I’m fine, just feeling under the weather.

When Jimin bursts through the door of Dumbledore’s office just past 3am, the headmaster’s already seated at his desk, evidently waiting for him. He’s donning a light blue robe with a matching sleeping cap perched delicately on his head, suggesting to Jimin that he’d somehow woken up knowing he was soon to greet a guest. All of the panic invading Jimin’s body is masked just slightly by guilt, only now realizing how late it is and how intrusive he must seem in this moment.

“Mister Park, you certainly are out quite a bit past curfew, no?” Jimin stands in the doorway cradling all of the scrolls and books he’d been hoarding the last few weeks -- he can’t very well have left a huge pile of evidence back in the library. It would have taken no time at all for someone to look through it and see there were connections everywhere to lycanthropy, even if he himself had been blind to it for so long.

“... Park? Mister Park?” Jimin jumps, lifting his tired eyes to meet Dumbledore’s concerned ones. The man continues once he’s got Jimin’s attention. “Surely, you must need something from me, or you wouldn’t appear so…” He doesn’t finish his sentence. He doesn’t need to. Jimin’s aware of the state he’s in -- the dark rings under his eyes, his ruffled clothes and hair, the way he’s holding his books like he needs to protect them with his life. He looks unhinged. He feels unhinged.

Realizing he has absolutely no idea how to approach the subject of a potential werewolf at Hogwarts with the school’s very headmaster, Jimin decides to start by moving toward the chair in front of Dumbledore’s desk.

Maybe I just need to sit down and take a deep breath. That should help--

He doesn’t even make it two steps before one of the many books he’s holding crashes to the floor between them, falling open to the page he’d stuck a pencil in to save his spot. The moon cycle for April of 1978 stares back up at him, and when he flicks his gaze up to peer at Dumbledore, he sees the headmaster’s expression has hardened with caution.

“Professor--”

“Have a seat, Mister Park.” Jimin’s heart lodges in his throat at Dumbledore’s tone, never having heard such a sharp edge to the kind man’s voice. He moves to the chair, setting the obnoxious amount of research haphazardly in his lap. His eyes will only go so far as the top of Dumbledore’s desk, unable to bring himself to meet the man’s eyes.

“Sir, I… need to ask you something.” When he isn’t granted a response, he swallows hard, pushing forward. “If there were to be a student at Hogwarts with a… peculiarity of sorts… how would you go about dealing with that?”

“How would I deal with what, Mister Park?”

“That student.”

“I’m not quite sure I know what you mean.” Jimin lifts his eyes then, confused, but he’s met with a deliberately ignorant smile.

“Sir?” Dumbledore’s smile, albeit strained, only widens.

“I think you may be suffering from a lack of sleep, Mister Park. There are no students at Hogwarts with any peculiarities, as you call it.” Jimin stares suspiciously up at him, knowing Dumbledore can tell that Jimin doesn’t for a second believe that claim. Breaking eye contact, he glances down at his lap, trying to figure out how to keep this conversation going. Trying to figure out why he’s even here.

Jimin looks down at himself and the pile of incriminating evidence, cursing his idiocy when he realizes just how bad this situation must look. A student out of bed way past curfew, barging into the headmaster’s office holding weeks of research and making outrageous claims about a potentially dangerous student. And he’s a Ravenclaw no less.

Shit. He probably thought I was some nosy little fucker trying to expose her and get her expelled.

Knowing that he’s risking a lot by being straightforward, he takes a single deep breath and meets Dumbledore’s eyes, his own filled with determination.

“Sir, I know about Y/n Y/l/n, and I know you do, too. I need to know how to take care of her. I need to know how to help her. I need you to tell me what to do because, to be honest with you, I’m freaking out.” The way Dumbledore’s examining him as he speaks tells Jimin that he’s right, but more importantly, it tells Jimin that Dumbledore hadn’t been expecting him to want to help.

“That is a very serious accusation you’re making, Mister Park, especially in this political climate. Very serious.” Jimin doesn’t waver when he responds.

“I know, sir. That’s why you’re the only one I’ve made it to. Because I need your help. Because I know you can help.” Dumbledore narrows his eyes, peering at Jimin over the tops of his half-moon spectacles.

“Have you considered the fact that just you knowing this information at all has placed Miss Y/l/n in more danger than she’s already in?” As soon as the words leave Dumbledore’s mouth, Jimin’s heart is stopping in his chest. All the times that Hoseok and Jungkook had told him to mind his business come rushing back, and he feels himself becoming sick to his stomach. Of course it’s more dangerous for her now that he knows -- he’d been too selfish to even think it through, too nosy for his own good. He had done all this to try to understand her, to try to be a better friend who can help when she needs it, but it’s all bullshit. Everything he thought he had done for her sake had actually been for his. For him and his stupid curiosity.

Lifting his head as a thought comes to mind, Jimin doesn’t even think twice before speaking.

“Can you erase my memories?” The headmaster’s eyebrows fly to his hairline, his expression becoming amused as Jimin continues rambling. “Can’t you obliviate me or something? Wouldn’t that be the best way for me to help her? Wait… but do you have to erase everything I know about her -- will I still know her? Can you make sure I still know her? I really like her! I don’t like Hoseok or Jungkook very much -- they kind of scare me -- but I like her! I don’t want to forget her, but also if me knowing that she’s a werewolf is only going to cause her more trouble, then I really think you should make me forget--” Dumbledore lifts his hand calmly, effectively silencing a frantic Jimin.

“Have you always had such a one-track mind, Mister Park?” Jimin smiles weakly, offering a half-joking response.

“It’s my only redeeming Ravenclaw quality…” Dumbledore chuckles before scratching at his forehead with a heavy sigh.

“Unfortunately -- and I do truly mean that -- I cannot erase a student’s memories. So, you and I will need to continue this difficult conversation.” Jimin considers the man’s words, knowing that it really would be better for everyone if he had his mind wiped clean and hating that he’d unknowingly put Y/n even more in harm’s way. He looks up when Dumbledore sighs again.

“Mister Park, you do understand that you are strictly forbidden from informing anyone else of this situation, yes?” When Jimin nods immediately, opening his mouth to assure the man that he wouldn’t say a word, Dumbledore only shakes his head. “No, Mister Park, I’m not sure you really understand. This situation is infinitely more complicated than you could ever imagine, so it is absolutely imperative that you keep this information to yourself.” Jimin blinks, unsure what’s meant by ‘infinitely more complicated’, but he nods again.

“I’ve put her in enough danger just by being here, Sir -- I’m not breathing a word of this to anyone.” Dumbledore examines him a moment longer, essentially staring into Jimin’s soul to gauge his trustworthiness. Eventually he nods, leaning back in his chair.

“What advice would you like me to give you, Mister Park?” Jimin stays silent, thinking hard about any way that he can make Y/n’s life easier, especially after all the trouble he’s caused up to now. His mind flashes back to the conversation he’d overheard in the library. He opens his mouth slowly, choosing his words with care.

“Sir… how does a student that isn’t even taking Potions know how to brew the wolfsbane potion? Isn’t it nearly impossible?” Jimin sees Dumbledore’s eyes flicker with recognition, and the headmaster responds cautiously.

“…If that student isn’t taking any kind of Potions course at all, they’d need to already be an expert from having dedicated all their studies to the art of potionmaking. They would also need an immense amount of private mentoring, even if they are taking Potions. We do not teach the wolfsbane potion in the curriculum. As I’m sure you can imagine, it wouldn’t fare well in these times…” Jimin squints, putting the pieces together quickly in his mind.

“And where would a student like that find this kind of… private mentoring?” The headmaster hums at Jimin’s question, peering down at him with knowing eyes.

“Well, Mister Park, if you wish to receive mentoring on much… safer forms of potionmaking, I’m sure Professor Slughorn would be happy to help you. However, if you are asking me about Mister Jung Hoseok of Slytherin House, and if you are wondering just how he became capable of caring for Miss Y/l/n at the young age of 13, well… you’re looking at his mentor.”

When Jimin leaves Dumbledore’s office almost an hour later, he feels like his head is going to explode. The nights of sleeplessness seem to also have come rushing back to him at once, and he’s not sure if he’s going to collapse first from the exhaustion or from the weight of everything he knows now. For a moment, he considers that maybe he really should ask someone to erase his memories -- Jungkook or Hoseok, perhaps.

Yeah, I’m sure they’d absolutely love to do me that favor.

Dragging his feet as he trudges down the corridor in the direction of Ravenclaw tower, Jimin stops short at a window when movement down by the Black Lake catches his eye. Almost as if thinking about them has caused them to materialize before him, Jimin watches the silhouette of Jung Hoseok stroll casually down by the shoreline, followed not long after by Jeon Jungkook racing toward him, a body perched precariously on his back. It’s not hard to see that Y/n’s clinging weakly to him as he runs, her arms wrapped around his shoulders as he keeps his hands hooked under her knees. Jimin can see that she’s got a gown on from the Hospital Wing, and it’s obvious that Jungkook and Hoseok have snuck her out from under Madam Pomfrey’s stern supervision.

They head for the Forbidden Forest, Y/n reaching back for Hoseok when Jungkook passes him. She beckons him forward, and Jimin watches as the three of them disappear together into the trees. He sighs deeply when he can no longer see them, muttering to himself under his breath as he makes his way to his room, overcome with extreme guilt at the entire situation.

“You’ve really gone and done it now, you fucking idiot.”

#bts au #bts smau #bts social media au #bts hogwarts au #park jimin #jimin x reader

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trulymadlysydney · 3 years

Text

Scorpio Season: Two

Harry is the ghost that haunts the sorority house, Misty is the only one who can see him, and Scorpio season is far too short.

tw: Death, brief mentions of sexual assault, lots and lots of filthy smut

(This is also 26.k words so like... be prepared for a long read)

Read Part One Here

***Do Not Repost Without Permission***

It’s Halloween, and Misty is drunk.

Okay, so perhaps she isn’t quite drunk, but she’s getting there, and Harry is doing his best to take care of her. (And his best isn’t exactly good enough, considering she’s the only one who can see him.)

It takes him fifteen minutes to get her attention, and he lets out a sigh of relief when he finally sees her walking towards him- dressed head to toe like the devil (if the devil were, of course, sexy and wore a skin tight red dress and fishnets).

When she reaches him, she smirks, and he doesn’t know why. “What?” She asks, raising her eyebrows challengingly.

For the sake of Misty’s pride, Harry turns away before anyone can see her talking to nothing. “Follow me,” he says, nodding over his shoulder and leading her into the hallway.

They turn the corner into her bedroom, and Harry gently closes the door behind them. When it’s just the two of them, Misty grins. “What’s up, buttercup?”

Harry smirks. “You doing alright?”

“M-hm!” Misty says with a nod. “You want a drink?”

“Can’t, love.”

Misty’s smile slowly fades into a frown. “You mean ghosts can’t let loose? Have a little fun?”

“Who says I’m not having fun?”

Misty considers his words and offers him a shrug. “I mean you’re just watching a bunch of drunk college kids in stuipd costumes get even more drunk and make out with each other. That isn’t really my idea of a good time.”

“And yet here you are.”

Misty giggles. “You know what I meaaaan.”

“I’m watching you,” Harry says smugly. “That’s all I need.”

She laughs again, turning away so he can’t see the tinge of embarrassment on her face. “Don’t watch me,” she says. “Creep.”

“Not a creep,” Harry insists, plopping onto her bed. “Just want you to take care of yourself. That’s all.”

“I wish you could take care of meeee,” Misty says, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively and punctuating her sentence with a half-hiccup, half-giggle.

Harry doesn’t know if Misty meant to say that, or if she even meant it in the way that he’s taking it, but he knows that if he had a beating heart, it would be racing at her words. He brushes it off, smiling at her softly. “M’taking care of you right now, aren’t I?”

“S’not what I meaaaaan,” Misty says, through another giggle, and now Harry knows exactly how her sentence was meant to be taken.

He laughs. “Sunshine why don’t we get you some water, hm?”

“I like it when you call me that,” Misty says, sauntering clumsily towards Harry. “‘Sunshine.’ Makes me happy.”

“I like making you happy,” Harry replies softly. “Now, will you make me happy by getting yourself some water please? I would get you some myself but, you know.” He gestures vaguely with his hands.

“You can’t!” she says, tittering to herself. “Cause you’re a ghost. I know that.”

Her words sting just the tiniest bit, even though Harry knows she doesn’t mean it in a negative way. He laughs them off anyway. “You’re stalling, Misty.”

“I’m not stalling!” Misty says. “I wish I could stay in here with you all night.”

And God, Harry wishes that too.

“And miss all the fun of the party out there?” Harry asks, eyeing her as she wobbles a bit around the room. “I saw the way those guys were looking at you.” He wiggles his eyebrows, and laughs as she gags.

“Ew,” she says, face twisting up in disgust. “They’re the worst.”

“You didn’t like their flirting? I thought that the trick the one guy did with the beer can on his head was very appealing. Especially with him dressed like a Greek God and all that.”

“You’re stupid.”

Harry grins. “Water, Misty, “ he reminds her. “You need to get yourself a glass of water.”

“Alright alriiiiight!” Misty holds up her hands in surrender. “You’re so neeeeeedy.”

Harry giggles, rising to his feet just in time to steady her a bit when she wobbles. She laughs softly at the feeling of his cold hands against her hips, turning in his arms to face him.

“You smell good,” she says, her face mere inches from his. “Have I ever told you that?”

Harry realizes that he’s held his hands in the same spot for just a tick too long, and he quickly drops them to his sides. “No,” he says, “Never told me that. What do I smell like?”

“Like…” Misty sniffs the air dramatically. “Like cinnamon. You’re laughin’ at me but it’s true! Smells really good.” She frowns up at him, as if a new thought just crossed her mind. “What am I gonna do when you’re gone?”

Now her words really sting, and Harry struggles to just laugh them off this time. Still, he knows tonight isn’t the time for sadness, and he doesn’t want to ruin Misty’s buzz. So he grins. “Buy a cinnamon candle?”

Misty pouts. “Not the same.”

Harry laughs, booping her nose with the tip of his finger. “Now I know you’re stalling.”

“Is it working?” Misty grins mischievously up at him, and Harry shakes his head.

“No,” he says through another laugh. “You little sneak.”

Misty giggles. “But you’ll stay with me, right? All night?”

“If you want me to.” Harry nods. “Yeah. You can’t talk to me though. Unless we’re in here.”

Misty frowns. “I know. Sucks.”

She turns like she’s going to leave finally, but then stops again. “Why can’t you show yourself in front of everyone?” she asks, as if the thought just dawned on her.

Harry sighs, because as much as he knows she’s stalling, it is a valid question. “I suppose I could,” he says, “If I really wanted to.”

“Don’t you want to?”

“Not really, no.” Harry offers her a half hearted shrug, and when he sees her face drop he quickly tacks on, “Not that I don’t want to be able to openly spend time with you, of course! You know I do. It’s just difficult.”

“Why is it difficult?” Misty cocks her head to the side like a curious child, and it’s so cute Harry could burst.

“It’s exhausting,” he explains. “As ghosts we only have so much energy. And it’s affected by the energies of others in the room as well. Manifesting takes up a lot of that energy, especially when you’re manifesting in front of a lot of other beings.” He smiles, pausing to allow her to process what he’s just said before continuing his explanation.

“When it’s only you who can see me, the amount of energy I’m putting forward is far less than, say, the amount it would take for me to manifest in front of everyone else. On top of that, being around all different energies-- feeling them interact with your own-- you sort of adopt those energies as well. You take them upon yourself. I don’t like doing it. It doesn’t feel good.”

“Oh.” Misty frowns. “That sucks.”

“It does suck,” Harry says, nodding his head. “Especially since I can’t walk around tonight and show you off the way you deserve.”

Misty giggles shyly, and Harry beams at her before continuing. “Now if you don’t go and get yourself some water, I’m going to have to expose myself to everyone.”

Misty’s laugh is louder than it usually is, and Harry has no choice but to laugh along with her. “Okay!” she says. “Sorry! God.”

Misty makes her way over to the bedroom door with Harry close on her heels. He holds his arms out just in case she needs extra stabilizing. As soon as the door opens, she’s met with a loud cheering from the people in the hallway.

Harry recognizes Rosie and Greg, but there are two other guys there that he’s never seen before. And by the looks of their cheers, they’re super happy to see Misty.

“Mistaaaaay!” One of the guys, who is dressed as a lifeguard, shouts. “What were you doin’ in your room all alone?”

Harry scrambles to come up with an excuse for Misty, when she surprises him and comes up with one all on her own.

“My little sister was calling me, weirdo,” Misty says. “She forgot our parent’s wifi password.” She glances over her shoulder and shoots Harry a very subtle wink, and honestly Harry’s impressed. He chuckles to himself, shaking his head.

“Quick thinking there, sunshine.”

Misty ignores him but her smirk does not go unnoticed. Her attention is quickly pulled, however, when the original guy speaks up again.

“You’re lookin’ good tonight, girl. You know Josh is looking for you?”

And just like that, Harry’s ears are perked and his stomach is sinking.

“Yeah?” Misty asks, completely uninterested as she tries to push through the crowd. “Well I’ve been here!” She almost seems to sober up, and Harry is intrigued as to why.

“You should go see what he wants.” Lifeguard wiggles his eyebrows, and Harry takes a protective and unintentional step forward.

Misty rolls her eyes, seemingly unbothered. “If it’s really that important he can find me.”

Lifeguard whistles. “Damn, Misty, alright! Not interested?”

Misty spares a quick glance in Harry’s direction. “I’m not, no.”

It should make Harry feel much, much better. It really should. But it doesn’t.

Misty, of course, offers no time for explanation-- which she shouldn’t, Harry knows, but still. She only continues to push through the crowd, with Harry close behind-- and he tries to ignore the random shivers from the people he accidentally walks through.

“Misty--” He says quietly.

“It’s fine.” It’s barely audible, and of course Harry can’t blame her for that; for fucks sake, she can’t look like she’s talking to herself.

Misty stumbles a bit as she enters the kitchen, opening the fridge and reaching inside for a jello shot. Harry keeps a close eye on her-- not because he feels he has to, by any means, but mostly because it’s getting to the point in the night where things are starting to get a bit nutty. The boys are becoming handsier, the girls are becoming more giggly and loud. In his lifetime, Harry had been to quite a few parties-- so he knows exactly the direction this night is headed.

Misty is about to close the fridge when Harry offers her a pointed look. “Forgetting something?”

“Water!” Misty says out loud, without thinking. “Duh! Sorry.”

She reaches into the fridge just as a voice comes from behind Harry. “There you are, babe! Who are you talking to?”

Harry and Misty turn at the same time to see who the voice belongs to, and Harry immediately frowns.

He comes to the conclusion (based on little to no evidence) that this must be Josh-- just by the way he’s eyeing Misty like prey. He’s dressed like Tom Cruise from Risky Business, only he’s left the shirt unbuttoned far enough that his abs (or lack thereof) are visible.

Misty speaks, confirming Harry’s thoughts. “Hi, Josh.”

She sounds less than thrilled to be seeing him, and she goes stiff when he throws a hand around her waist and pulls her in for a hug. He leans in to kiss the side of her head, but Misty quickly ducks away, regaining her distance from him and opening her water bottle.

“Not happy to see me?” Josh pouts.

“No, I am,” she says, unconvincingly. She opens her water and is about to take a sip when Josh scoffs.

“You’re drinking water? Lightweight. Thought you were gonna get lit with us!”

“I am!” Misty insists. “Just don’t want to end my night with my head in the toilet.”

“You know I’d take care of you babe,” Josh says. “What’s in your cup tonight?”

Misty takes a few long sips from her water bottle, eyeing Harry pointedly, before she speaks. “Uh. I don’t know exactly, Kennedy made it for me.”

“Hell yeah,” Josh says, eyeing her glass. “You’re runnin’ low though, want me to get you another?”

Before Misty can even answer, Josh has taken the cup from her hands. He’s walking over to the stash of various liquors on the counter, and Harry immediately moves to stand beside him. He watches carefully as Josh pours the liquor into Misty’s cup.

“Heard you talkin’ in here,” Josh says. “Who were you talking to?”

“What?” Misty and Harry share a quick glance before she speaks. “Oh. No one. I was talking to myself.”

“Yourself?” Josh scoffs, still pouring vodka into Misty’s drink. Harry has to stop himself from reaching out to stop him from pouring. “You’re a little weirdo sometimes, Misty. You know that?”

Harry lets out an annoyed sigh, wanting more than anything to put Josh in his place. Misty only smiles passively. “I know.”

“Quite a bit of fuckin vodka he’s putting in there,” Harry says. “He’s trying to get you drunk, love.”

“I know,” Misty repeats, both to Harry and to Josh.

“Hot little weirdo though,” Josh says, adding only a tiny splash of cranberry juice before turning around to offer Misty her cup again. He pauses, just as he’s about to hand it to her.

“Did it suddenly get cold in here?” he asks, glancing around him.

“I could kill him,” Harry states, emotionless.

Misty has to fight a giggle, reaching forward to take her drink from Josh. “No, I don’t feel anything,” she says. She takes a quick sip, immediately regretting her actions when her esophagus is burned with the taste of vodka.

Misty shivers and gags, coughing in an attempt to get the horrible taste out of her mouth. “Jesus, Josh, what did you put in this?”

“Vodka cran baby!” Josh says. “Know you like those!”

“Vodka with a fuckin’ shot of cran,” Harry adds.

Misty coughs, putting her cup down on the counter. Josh frowns. “You don’t like it?”

“No,” Misty chokes, “I mean it’s fine but… fuck, dude, how much vodka did you put in there?”

“Nothing you can’t handle, Misty!” Josh steps forward, hip checking Misty and nearly knocking her over. “You’re a tough little girl aren’t you.”

“I really could kill him,” Harry adds.

Misty clears her throat, finally done with coughing. “You need to work on your bartending skills, Josh.”

“Yeah?” Josh puts his cup down, moving in on Misty. Before she even has time to react, he has her pinned against the counter, with both his arms trapped on either side of her. She leans her head back in an attempt to get further away from him. He, completely oblivious to social cues, only grins. “Maybe I do. But I know of one skill I don’t need to work on.”

“Josh—“ Misty couldn’t lean any further back if she tried, and she glances at Harry out of the corner of her eyes.

Josh leans in, pressing his lips to Misty’s neck. “C’mon, baby, you know what I’m talking about. Don’t you remember how good it was?”

Harry takes a step forward as Misty manages to get her hands unpinned and shoves them weakly against Josh’s chest. “You’re drunk,” she says.

“And you’re not?” Josh licks his lips, trying to kiss Misty again. “Take another sip then.”

Harry has never felt so helpless in his entire existence, and he doesn’t even think twice before reaching forward to yank Josh off Misty. Misty coincidentally pushes at his chest at the exact same time, sending Josh practically toppling over.

He regains his balance after a moment,, glancing at Misty with a confused look. There’s a thick silence in the air, and Harry instinctively takes a step between Josh and Misty. Josh glances around, as if searching for whatever just yanked him, and Misty shoots Harry a nervous look.

A menacing grin spreads slowly across Josh’s face, and he swipes his teeth with his tongue. “Damn, girl. You’re strong.”

Misty blinks back at him, swallowing. “Josh,” she says slowly. “I’m not interested.”

“That’s not what you said last time.”

Harry feels like his insides are on fire with anger, and Misty rolls her eyes.

“Yes, it is actually. Interesting how you don’t seem to recall that.”

“Say the word and I’ll kill him,” Harry says.

Misty rolls her eyes, which goes completely unnoticed by Josh as he continues his tirade. “Look, I know you’re just being stubborn and I get it! I do.” He picks up Misty’s abandoned drink, sloshing the cup around in his hand. “Why don’t you just finish this drink I made you and then come find me when it hits you and you stop being such a prude?”

Harry can’t hold back any longer, and he doesn’t even think twice before he moves in- slapping the cup and tilting it all over onto Josh’s skin and his stupid white shirt.

Josh shrieks, and the look on his face is a mix between shock and confusion. He eyes the now empty cup in his hand as if he can’t believe he just spilled it all over himself. Misty scoffs quietly to herself.

“Wow Josh, you might want to lay off the drinks.”

“Fucker,” Harry adds.

“I’m not that drunk!” Josh insists, raising his voice and taking a step towards Misty. Harry immediately steps between them once again, ready to push him away at a moment’s notice.

It’s at that exact moment that Kennedy walks in, saving the day. She instantly notices the tension in the room, and her eyes dart between Misty and Josh. She laughs when she notices his spilled drink.

“Woooow,” she says. “What happened here?”

“I stumbled,” Josh laughs, trying to regain his composure and play the situation off. “Misty saw it, huh?”

Misty shoots Kennedy a glance before muttering, “Yeah. It was crazy.”

“Mm,” Kennedy says, and it’s obvious that she seems to have an idea of exactly what happened. She doesn’t like Josh, that much is obvious. Harry is immensely grateful for her, knowing that she’s going to take care of Misty in a way that he can’t. “Well you should probably get that cleaned up, huh? And maybe lay off the drinks a bit.”

Kennedy immediately walks to Misty’s side, and Harry can tell Josh knows his game is over by the look he gives. Neither Kennedy or Misty hint at being upset, and Misty shoots Harry a thankful look.

“I’m not drunk, Kennedy,” Josh lies, a smile on his face that makes it very obvious that he’s offended.

“Okay,” Kennedy scoffs. “How bout you, Misty? Need another drink?”

Misty’s eyes dart from Kennedy to Josh to Harry, who watches her with helpless and sympathetic eyes. Misty wants more than anything to curl into Harry’s side, but she knows she can’t, and she’s thankful for Kennedy for stepping in when she did.

“Uh,” Misty says, clearing her throat. “Yeah, actually, I do. This idiot here spilled mine.”

Kennedy rolls her eyes, but it’s apparent she knows about the situation with Josh. “What a douche,” she teases. shooting Josh a look as if to say she’s not actually teasing-- she means what she’s saying. “Why don’t you go clean yourself up. Misty, I’ll make you another drink.”

Josh rolls his eyes, scoffing as if he can’t believe what just happened. “Yeah,” he says. “Alright.” He winks at Misty, shooting her an overly confident “I’ll see you later” before exiting the kitchen.

Kennedy, Misty, and Harry all watch him exit most ungracefully before Kennedy turns to Misty. “You okay? Like, actually.”

“Yes,” Misty lies.

“No,” Harry adds.

Kennedy rolls her eyes as she gets to work making Misty another drink. “He’s a fuckin douche canoe. I can’t believe he even still thinks he can talk to you.”

“I know.” Misty grabs a paper towel to clean up the bit of the drink that spilled onto the ground. “I don’t either.”

Harry watches Misty, continuing to feel helpless— almost as if he’s butting in on a conversation he shouldn’t be. But he doesn’t move. He remains still, almost frozen in place as he watches Misty clean up the mess he made.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I should’ve planned that better.”

“It’s okay,” Misty says, both to Harry and Kennedy. “I’m fine. He didn’t do anything.”

“He wouldn’t have given up though,” Kennedy says, pouring the actual correct amount of vodka into Misty’s cup. “He’s a creep.”

Misty sighs. “He is. But—“

“No buts.” Kennedy and Harry both say this at the exact same time, and it takes Harry a moment to process.

“God I hate him,” Kennedy says. “Don’t let him intimidate you. Here.” She finishes mixing the drink in Misty’s cup and hands it to her. “Stay with me, yeah?”

Misty smiles gratefully at Kennedy. “Thank you.” She glances over at Harry, a soft grateful smile directed in his direction as well.

Kennedy and Misty make their way out of the kitchen, and Harry once again feels helpless as he follows them. Should he leave her alone? She asked him not to, but now he feels awkward and, if he’s being honest, angry that he couldn’t help her more.

Harry numbly follows Misty and Kennedy through the house and into a cozy but messy living room filled with tons of other drunk people. He feels a slight sense of relief when, immediately upon sitting down, Misty’s eyes search for him. She seems to visibly relax when she sees him, and he smiles sadly at her. He reaches out to stoke lovingly at her cheek, and try as she might to not react, she can’t help but flutter her lashes closed for a brief second and lean into his touch.

The rest of the night seems to pass by slowly. Misty hardly touches her drink at all, and as normal as she’s behaving around everyone else, Harry-- and Kennedy, it seems-- can tell that something is wrong. She seems sad, her eyes less bright, and as the hours tick on she becomes less and less secretive about her glances towards Harry.

The party ends-- finally-- around 3am, with most of its guests falling asleep in various places throughout the house. Misty moves slowly, helping Kennedy clean up the apartment, and Harry follows her anxiously-- wishing he, too, could help.

“Are you okay?” Kennedy asks, once she and Misty-- and Harry-- are alone in the kitchen. “Like, actually.”

“Yeah,” Misty insists. “My buzz just wore off and like… I dunno. I just want to sleep.”

“I get that,” Kennedy says, turning on the sink to wash out a glass. “Well why don’t you go up to bed? I’ll finish up in here.”

“I don’t want to leave it all to you--”

“I’m good! I’m just gonna do a couple more dishes and then head up to bed myself. We can do the rest tomorrow.”

Misty hesitates, glancing from Kennedy to Harry before sighing, smiling a little relieved smile. “You’re the fucking best, Ken.”

Kennedy grins. “Duh. Go get some sleep.”

Misty throws her arms around Kennedy from behind, giving her a big squeeze and pressing the most obnoxious kiss to her cheek before bidding her goodnight. She still seems upset-- something is still very clearly on her mind, but she seems a bit relieved that she’s finally able to leave.

As she pulls away, she shoots Harry a questioning glance, as if asking him to come with her. He nods, holding up his finger to indicate that he’ll be right there. Misty smiles, nodding her head before disappearing out of the kitchen.

Harry turns back to Kennedy, making his way slowly towards her. He reaches forward, hesitating before giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. He’s thanking her, in the only way he knows how to without revealing himself, and much to his relief, Kennedy only jumps slightly before giggling.

“I knew you were here,” she says softly. “Whoever you are. And I know you care about our girl, too. Don’t worry, I’ve got her.”

Harry smiles to himself, wishing he could verbally thank her. But just her knowing about his existence-- and being okay with it, at that-- means more to him than he can explain. So without any more delay, he disappears from the kitchen and makes his way to Misty.

He finds Misty in her room, waiting in the doorway, and she smiles when she sees him. He makes his way quickly into her room and she closes the door behind him, her face immediately dropping the moment it’s closed. Harry waits for her to speak, but she doesn’t-- she only busies herself with retrieving the items she needs in order to get ready for bed.

“Are you alright?” Harry finally asks, voice gentle. He doesn’t know if he should step closer, touch her, hug her, or just stay away, so he stands awkwardly off to the side.

“I’m alright,” Misty says, most unconvincingly.

“You sure?” This time he does take a step towards her. “I don’t think--”

“It’s nothing,” Misty insists. “Seriously. He’s a creep.”

‘You shouldn’t have to deal with him,” Harry says. “Does he treat you like that often?”

Misty pauses, then sighs, nodding her head slowly. “And everyone kinda just… lets him get away with it because….” she scoffs cynically, “He’s Josh.”

“Fuck Josh. Where does he get off?”

Misty shrugs, opening a drawer and rummaging through it in search of a t-shirt. “It’s just who he is. I don’t know.”

“Well I mean…” Harry isn’t sure how to word his next question. “What makes him think that he can mess with you like that?”

“It’s literally nothing,” Misty says, exasperated. She pauses, considering her words before turning to face Harry. She opens her mouth, then closes it, and then finally decides to speak.

“You really want to know what happened?”

“If you don’t mind,” Harry says.

Misty sighs again, removing her little devil horn headband. “We were drunk at a Kappa party my freshman year. We kissed a little. I was… stupid. He kept pouring me drinks, and I just… kept taking them. And….”

Harry waits for a moment, before gently pressing her a bit more. “And?”

“And stuff happened. We didn’t like, have sex or anything. I know that for a fact. ��But he…” She trails off, lost in thought, before continuing. “I don’t remember a whole lot of it.”

Harry is furious, and he wants more than anything to go find Josh and kick his ass. But he knows that isn’t what Misty wants-- and definitely not what she needs right now. So he stays put, offering her a sympathetic sigh. “Oh, Misty.”

“It’s okay,” she offers. “I remember he made me a drink that was particularly strong. We went up to his room and then… next thing I remember I was throwing up in the yard.” Misty laughs bitterly. “My big was the one that found me. With him, I mean. That’s how I know we didn’t have sex. But she saw what we were doing and I—“ Misty trails off, shaking her head. “I don’t remember it at all.”

Harry swallows heavily as he takes in her words, scanning her face. The way Misty is looking at him right now, with her big soft eyes and genuine smile, he’s feeling guilty for even bringing it up.

“So. That’s what happened.” Misty shrugs. “I wish it didn’t, but it did. And that’s it.”

Harry runs a hand through his hair, feeling for the first time just how cold he really is. The only thing Harry can settle on in this moment is a sigh, and so he lets all of his anxieties out in a big puff of air that actually, admittedly, does make him feel better. As soon as he’s pushed all the air out of his lungs, his guilt increases, and he meets Misty’s eyes.

“Misty,” he says softly, “Sunshine. I’m so sorry.”

Harry reaches for Misty, nervous that he’s pressured her to talk about something so personal. She does lean into his touch-- thank God-- and she lets out the deepest sigh she feels she’s ever let out in her life.

“Harry….I don’t know how to navigate a situation like this,” Misty admits, voice hardly above a whisper. “I only want to make you happy.”

“Darling, you do make me happy. I can’t believe he would ever—“

“It’s not about him,” Misty says. “I’m okay. I’m talking about you. I don’t know how to navigate… this.”

Harry pauses, realizing that she’s talking about the blatant chemistry between the two of them. “Well, I—“

“You’re just…. such a wonderful guy. And I wish—“ she trails off, as if second guessing her words, before starting her next thought. “All I know is that you’re someone I just… want around. All the time.”

“I want to stay around,” Harry says gently. “I wish I could stay around longer.”

“Me too.” Misty smiles sadly up at him. “Our situation is unique.”

“Unique,” Harry repeats. “That’s a nice way of saying ‘weird as hell.’”

Now Misty giggles. “But I like it,” she tacks on quietly. “I like…” She trails off, closing her mouth as if the rest of that sentence hangs heavy on her tongue.

“I know,” Harry offers. “I do, too.”

They stay like this for a moment, before Misty sighs. “I have to get ready for bed now. So--”

“I’ll go!” Harry says quickly. “I’ll let you get to sleep and--”

“No, wait!” Misty holds up her hand. “I’ll be right back. I’m gonna change and stuff in the bathroom. But then I’ll come back so we can… say goodnight.”

Harry wonders what exactly she means by that, but he doesn’t even allow himself to question her. He smiles. “Alright. I’ll be here.”

Misty looks almost relieved. “Alright.”

Misty disappears into the hallway, leaving Harry behind with the silence and his own thoughts. He knows Misty is still a bit buzzed, sure, but her words were pointed. He tries not to overthink what she could have potentially meant by ‘say goodnight.’

He sighs, walking around her room and trying to distract himself from the nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach. He looks at the pictures in the frames along her dresser, the unfinished homework lying on her desk, the paddle made by her “big” hanging on the wall. All these pieces of Misty’s life make him smile, but what really gets him is the framed picture on her bedside table.

It’s a picture of her family, taken from when Misty couldn’t have been more than fifteen years old. She’s smiling the biggest smile Harry thinks he’s ever seen, and she’s the spitting image of her beautiful mother, who stands behind her, laughing.

Beside her mother stands her father, a tall, broad man with some wrinkles around his eyes and graying sideburns. He looks like the kind of guy that Harry would love to chat with, sharing a whiskey neat or two while giving each other shit. He seems pleasant, and he seems like a wonderful man just from this picture alone.

Surrounding Misty are her siblings: an older brother, and a younger sister and brother. Harry wants more than anything to be able to meet them. To have to earn the respect of Misty’s older brother, to spoil her younger siblings and make them love him. He wants to be close to the whole family, really. He wants to be the boyfriend that Misty brings home one year for spring break. The boyfriend who brings a new plant for her mother, who watches football with her father and impresses them with his knowledge of American traditions, despite being british.

Harry wishes, more than anything in the world, that he was still alive.

He doesn’t realize how long he’s been staring at the picture until he’s startled by Misty’s presence as she enters her room once again. He jumps a bit, and Misty giggles.

“Hi,” she says. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Hi. Ghosts don’t get scared.”

“Debatable,” Misty says. Harry gets a good look at her, and he’s completely enamored. He’s just watched her transform from a sexy demon, with dark makeup and long lashes and the plumpest red lips he’s ever seen-- to the most adorable person he thinks he’s ever laid his eyes upon.

Her makeup-less face reveals a few zits on her cheek, her lips look chapped, and she’s dressed only in a long t-shirt and shorts. She discards her costume into her hamper without a second thought, completely unaware of the way Harry is watching her.

“You look cute,” he says, as she pulls back her comforter.

“Shut up,” she says, rolling her eyes as she crawls into bed. “Ew.”

Harry snorts. “I’m serious. You’re so pretty.”

“Well,” she says, plumping up the pillows behind her. “You’re so nice, but I’m going to have to respectfully tell you that I think you’re lying.”

“Well,” Harry mocks, “agree to disagree then.”

Misty relaxes against her pillows, rubbing sleepily and adorably at her eyes for a few moments.

“Thanks for being so wonderful to me,” she says after a bit, pulling the covers up tighter around her hips. “Like, all night I mean. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Don’t be silly,” Harry says. “I care about you. I had fun.”

“Me too. I just…” she sighs, and Harry takes a step towards her.

“What, love?”

“I just wish you could’ve actually like… had a good time. Like, drank and hung out with us and stuff. I wish I wasn’t the only one who could see you all night.”

“You don’t like havin’ me all to yourself then?” Harry fake pouts.

Misty rolls her eyes, but she smiles anyway. “It is nice to have my own personal ghost, but I just… wish you weren’t one.”

Harry smiles sadly. “Me too,” he says. “But I like watching over you. Like your own personal guardian angel or summat.”

Misty giggles. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Feelin’ okay?” Harry asks, trying to change the subject. “Need more water or anything?”

“No,” Misty says. “Think I just need to sleep off the rest of this buzz.”

“Yeah,” Harry agrees. “Sometimes that’s best.”

“Yeah.” There is a weird sort of tension fizzling in the air between them, as if Misty has something else she wants to say.

Harry waits patiently, watching as she avoids his gaze. She seems deep in thought and on the verge of asking something, but when she doesn’t Harry realizes that maybe he’s the one being awkward. Maybe she wants him to leave now and she’s too polite to tell him so.

So Harry clears his throat. “Alright. Well. Goodnight, bug.” He nods in finality. After a few more seconds, he takes a step back before vanishing right in front of Misty’s eyes. He’s about to actually leave, and he figures he can go inspect the house. Maybe see what damage has been done, and try to discreetly clean up a bit in order to help speed up the process tomorrow for what he knows is going to be a very hungover group of girls. But something catches his attention that he absolutely cannot ignore.

“Wait, don’t go!”

Misty’s voice sounds so pitiful that Harry can’t even pretend like he’s not going to come back. He manifests immediately in the corner of her room and he coos at her. “What is it, sunshine?”

“Can you sleep with me?”

She seems so embarrassed to be asking, it makes even Harry’s cheeks flush. “You want me to… get in bed with you?”

Misty nods, eyes bigger than Harry’s ever seen. “Yeah,” she mumbles. “Can you?”

Harry doesn’t remember the last time he spent a night in a bed-- much less with a beautiful girl-- but the thought of doing it tonight excites him. He doesn’t want to come across as too eager, of course, but he can’t help but feel touched by her request, and he all but runs to her side.

As he makes his way towards the bed, he speaks. “I might be a little bit cold,” he offers. He looms over her, reaching down to brush a bit of her messy hair off of her forehead.

“S’okay,” Misty sighs, “I have lots of blankets. Just wanna cuddle. Is that okay?”

Harry smiles at how cute she looks, bundled up and sleepy in her bed. He chuckles softly, reaching to tug gently at her covers to pull them back for himself. “Yeah,” he says, “That’s okay. I can do that.”

As Harry settles himself in bed, he tries not to beat himself up too hard for the slight shiver in her body. She obviously doesn’t seem to mind as she cuddles up close to him instantly. The feeling of her warmth is almost too much for Harry to handle-- similar to the feeling of getting into a hot tub too quickly-- but he doesn’t mind. It feels so good, and if he closes his eyes he can pretend, just for a moment, that he’s human, too.

“Can ghosts sleep?” Misty asks abruptly, tearing Harry from his fantasy and reminding him of his actual form.

Harry chuckles. “Yeah, we can sleep,” he says. “It’s not exactly the same as how you sleep, though.”

“What’s it like then?”

Harry thinks for a moment, choosing his words carefully to explain this in a way that it makes sense. “You know how I mentioned I can visit dreams? When I’m… gone.”

“Yeah?”

“So if I go to sleep while I’m here, I’ll just go there. To the dreamscape. Where I can visit anybody’s dreams that I want. That’s usually how I visit my mum or say, a friend.” Harry chuckles. “Or someone who wronged me in the past. So I can haunt their ass.”

“But you’ll still be here when I wake up right?” She sounds so sleepy, almost needy, and it makes Harry hold her that much tighter.

“If you want me to be,” he answers.

“I do,” she says softly. There is a beat of silence before she’s changing the subject again. “Tell me what it’s like.”

“What?”

“The dream stuff. Like how do you just… do that?”

“Mmm. It’s like… how can I explain…” Harry thinks carefully once again. “I’m in a black… room? Sort of. Like where I go when I’m gone. And there are a ton of doors, right? In this room I mean. And I can enter any one of them that I’d like, at any time. Anywhere in the world.”

“You can enter anybody’s dream?”

“Mhm.”

“At any time?”

“At any time.”

“Woooooow.” Misty’s sleepy exclamation tickles softly against his neck. “That’s so cool.”

“It is yeah,” Harry says, smiling to himself.

“Can you come into my dream tonight?”

“If you want me to, yeah.”

“Can you make me dream about you?”

“Well,” Harry says, tracing a circle into Misty’s spine. “Yes and no. Whatever you’re dreaming about, I can enter it if I want to. But I won’t know what you’re dreaming about until I’m in there.”

“Oh,” Misty says through a yawn. “Ew.”

Harry snorts. “Why ‘ew?’”

“Because what if I’m dreaming something embarrassing?”

“Then I can embarrass you about it forever,” Harry says. “How fun!”

Misty pulls Harry closer, burying her face deep into his neck. He can feel her visible frown, and it makes him smile. “Don’t pout,” he coos, scratching at her back.

“Don’t tease meeee,” she whines, but the way she says it sounds like she has another thought to add on.

Misty hesitates, and Harry gives her time to think about what she’s going to say. She arches her back the teeniest bit, leaning into a particularly good scratch, and it makes Harry smile. Finally, she finishes her thought.

“I actually did have a dream about you the other night,” she says, “although now I’m guessing you already knew that.”

Harry nods. He did know that, because it was his doing. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened; if anything it had just been pretty mundane-- similar to every day he’s spent with her in real life. But it felt more real, more permanent, more tangible. Harry had been careful, of course, not to be too obvious with it-- he didn’t interfere with the natural plot line of her dream as much as he normally would if it were a real visit. He had just wanted to spend more time with her, and it had been lovely.

“Was it weird?” He asks, although he already knows the answer.

“It wasn’t weird,” Misty says. “You were just kinda… there. But I…” he feels her body tense up, and she curls herself even further into his side, as if hiding herself. “I wanted to kiss you so bad.”

Harry feels his breath hitch in his throat, and his fingertips cease their movements along her spine. “Yeah?” he chokes out.

“Yeah,” she whispers back. “Is that weird?”

“It’s not weird, sunshine,” Harry whispers. “I wanted to--” He trails off now, letting the rest of his sentence fizzle out in a sigh. “It’s not weird,” he repeats.

“I’m falling asleep,” Misty announces through the softest yawn Harry thinks he’s ever heard. “It’s not weird right? Like, things between us aren’t weird just cause I got drunk and kinda… confessed some shit?”

“Confessed what?” Harry says. “You’ve told me nothing.”

Misty giggles “You’re a good man, Harry.”

“I’m not a man,” Harry teases. “I’m a ghost.”

“Can you not be annoying for like, one whole second?”

It’s Harry’s turn to giggle now. “Alright, I’m sorry. I’ll chill.”

Misty yawns again, and the feeling of her breath against his neck makes him shiver. He smiles, snuggling his cheek against the top of her head. “Well,” he says. “Goodnight, sunshine.”

“Goodnight, Harry,” she mumbles. Without thinking, she presses the softest little peck against his neck that almost goes unnoticed by him. It makes him freeze, letting out the rest of the air in his lungs in a little sigh. He doesn’t know if he should kiss her back or not, but she doesn’t seem to mind either way. So he lets it slide.

But he spends the entire night replaying the feeling of her lips against his neck over and over and over again.

------

Misty sighs as she reaches into the fridge for a bottle of water. Somehow she’s been roped into a conversation that she wants no part of; gossip between Lindsey and Rosie about Lindsey’s boyfriend who’s been openly cheating on her for weeks. Perhaps she had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time, but somehow Misty has found herself listening to the girls chat away, one feeling sorry for herself, and the other kissing her ass.

When Misty closes the door, she jumps when she sees Harry, who has manifested right in front of her. She lets out a frustrated sigh through her nose, and Harry grins cheekily at her, raising his eyebrows and daring her to speak.

“What’s wrong, Misty?” Rosie asks, and Misty realizes her little scare hadn’t gone unnoticed.

Misty glances between Harry and the two girls, who stare expectantly back at her. “Uh,” she says, “Nothing. I… thought I saw something. Sorry.”

“Is it that fucking ghost again?” Rosie’s face grows pale at her own words. “I swear to God if that fucker is back I--”

“No,” Misty says, cutting her off. “He-- it-- isn’t back. Continue with your story.”

Lindsey launches right back into it, hardly giving Misty’s words a second thought. “Anyway, Brad was like, totally flirting with me that night right?”

“He totally was,” Rosie replies.

“Thank you! I thought he was, and Jade thought he was, but then now he’s back with Jessie again and--”

“God who cares about any of this?” Harry’s voice drawls in Misty’s ear. “She’s been going on and on about this for ages.”

Misty sighs softly so that only Harry can hear her. She knows she can’t verbally respond to him, but he hears her response and smirks. It’s then the idea pops into his head.

“Whatever you do, don’t smile,” Harry says, voice low and teasing in Misty’s ear-- a surefire way to make her smile.

The corners of Misty’s lips twinge and she visibly gulps, and Harry knows he’s got her.

“I said don’t smile,” Harry, sing-songs, inching closer to Misty’s ear and trying his hardest to get her to break. “You’ll look like a crazy person. Can you imagine? Lindsey’s pouring her heart out, and you can’t stop smiling? What will they think?”

Misty clears her throat a bit more aggressively than normal as a desperate plea to get Harry to shut the hell up.

“No,” he replies, with a cheeky grin, knowing exactly what her noise meant. “I’m not going to stop.”

Misty holds her breath as an attempt to hold her composure as Harry continues. “Imagine if Lindsey’s water like, came out of her nose right now. Wouldn’t that be crazy?”

Harry notices the way Misty runs her tongue over her teeth, setting her jaw firmly so as not to slip up again. And honestly, he’s impressed. He presses her further. “Did you know I could make that happen?”

This time Misty’s breath hitches, and she eyes Harry threateningly out of the corner of her eyes. “I really can,” he says. “I can snap my fingers and she’ll be like a faucet. A free flowing spirit.”

Harry thinks he’s almost got her, her lips twitch up again and she raises her water bottle to her lips to cover it up. Harry snorts.

“Nah, I’m fucking with you,” he says, “you think I could really do that? Who do you think I am, fuckin Harry Potter?”

Misty rolls her eyes without giving it a second thought, which luckily goes unnoticed by her sisters-- but not unnoticed by Harry. He raises his eyebrows.

“Ope! Careful there. Going to give yourself away, eh?”

When Misty stares blankly ahead, Harry laughs.

“Wow,” he says, “so you’re really not gonna smile, are you? You’re good at this.”

His tone makes Misty think he’s giving up, and she gives a subtle smirk of satisfaction in his direction.

But Harry is nothing if he isn’t persistent. And he is not going to give up that easily.

It’s when Misty raises her arm to run a hand through her hair that Harry gets his idea. He doesn’t even allow himself time to think about it before he’s setting his plan into action. Before he knows it, he’s going right for Misty’s ribs.

Harry digs his hands into Misty’s lower ribs, squeezing a few times, and Misty folds instantly into his arms. She lets out a surprised shriek mixed with an almost honking laugh, and both Lindsey and Rosie stop the conversation immediately to shoot her a puzzled look.

It’s all too good, and Harry is so utterly pleased with himself right now. He’d be lying if he said this kind of power didn’t go to his head, especially when Misty immediately realizes that she’s got to stop giggling. Harry doesn’t let up on her ribs, lowering a hand to pinch softly at her side, and Misty tries desperately to cover up her remaining giggles with a cough.

Harry would also be lying if he said that seeing her laugh like this didn’t turn him on. But that is neither here nor there.

After a few more seconds of tickling her and watching her desperately try to contain her giggles and cover them up with the fakest coughs Harry’s ever heard, he decides to show the poor girl some mercy. He removes his hands from her torso, and it takes her a few seconds to realize she’s free.

The silence that follows is charged with awkwardness, and Harry almost feels a bit bad. Misty, whose face is visibly hot, reaches for her water bottle on the counter and takes several long sips from it.

“You alright?” Rosie asks, slowly raising an eyebrow.

Misty gulps down one more sip and gestures vaguely at her throat. “Yeah, sorry I just--”

“Have a tickle in your throat?”

Harry beams, voice low in Misty’s ear. “Something like that,” he says.

Misty closes her eyes and lets out a long sigh, as if she’s just heard the worst joke of her life. Harry snorts. “I know,” he says. “That was a good one, wasn’t it?”

“Linds, I’m so sorry to interrupt,” Misty says, “But I have this huge paper due in a couple of hours and I’m super behind so--”

“Oh is it that stupid paper for english?” Lindsey nods sympathetically. “I worked on it like, all night last night.”

“Yeah,” Misty lies, “I have to work on it. I promise in a few hours I’ll be right back down to--”

“No worries, baby, do your thing!” Lindsey says, shooing Misty with her hand. “I get it. You’re good.”

“Thanks.” Misty begins making her way out of the kitchen without even sparing so much as a glance in Harry’s direction. “I want to hear all about it later though.”

Misty storms up the stairs with Harry close on her heels. He is giggling the entire way, but Misty doesn’t even smile. It’s about halfway up the stairs that Harry begins to get a bit nervous.

“You have to admit that was good,” he says through his laughter, obviously trying to lighten the mood. “Come on.”

Misty ignores him, continuing her path to her room. When she arrives, she doesn’t even check to see that Harry is behind her. She closes the door a bit harder than she intends, and Harry effortlessly glides through it. The silence that follows is absolutely deafening.

She turns, agonizingly slowly to face him, and the look on her face is unreadable. Harry isn’t sure if the smirk on his own face is appropriate or not, so he tries his best to suppress it while he waits for her to say something. When she doesn’t, his lips twitch.

“I take it you’re angry,” he tries.

“How could you do that?!” Misty hisses, the sort of whisper that’s stupidly loud. He knows she isn’t angry, not fully, but he almost worries he took things a step too far.

“Sunshine, I’m sorry, I didn’t--”

“Made me look like a fucking idiot.” Misty runs her hands through her hair and shakes her head at him. “And for what? So you could get a laugh?”

Harry tries desperately not to smirk, but the corners of his lips turn up ever so slightly-- giving him away. “Yeah.”

Misty stops, not exactly expecting that answer. She pauses for a moment before sighing through her nose and closing her mouth. “Ridiculous,” she mumbles, before brushing past Harry to rummage through her closet.

“I really think you should lighten up,” Harry says, walking over and plopping himself on her bed. “Wasn’t meant to be a personal attack.”

“Lighten up?!” Misty says, whirling around on her heels. She hesitates, realizing that she’s raised her voice a tick too loud. She takes a step towards Harry, lowering her voice significantly before speaking. “You think I need to lighten up? Harry, you--”

“I didn’t mean to ruin your bloody day, Misty, Christ. I was just trying to make you laugh.”

“Well don’t.”

“Fine.”

There’s an intense pause between them, and Harry doesn’t shy away from Misty’s intimidating stare. In fact, there is hardly any emotion on his face at all, and Misty can’t tell whether it infuriates her or turns her on. She can feel the blood rushing to her cheeks growing hotter by the second, and she lets out a flustered sigh.

“You seem like you have something else to say,” Harry states calmly.

It’s so unfair, Misty thinks. It really fucking is. She scrambles to find words to express how she’s feeling, but her brain is cloudy with the thought of how goddamn attractive he is. When she really thinks about it, she isn’t angry at all, really. The thought of Harry being able to do whatever he wants to her- whenever he wants- in front of people both embarrasses her and makes her excited.

Truth be told, she’s never been more excited in her entire life.

Harry raises his eyebrows expectantly. “Well?”

“I don’t have anything else to say,” Misty says quietly.

“Are you sure?” Harry asks, rising to his feet and taking a cautious step towards her.

Misty lets out a frustrated breath, reaching up to push her hair off of her face. “Yes, I’m sure! Will you stop doing that?”

Harry scoffs, mockingly. “Stop doing what, Misty? Trying to call you out on what we both know is true?”

“No!” Misty’s voice is dangerously loud, and she catches herself again before she can get any louder. She rolls her eyes at herself before continuing at a much softer pace. “Stop… looking at me like that.”

And oh, now Harry understands.

Harry shakes his head. “I’m not looking at you like anything.”

“Yes you are!” she insists, closing the space between them just the tiniest bit more. “You’re always looking at me like… like that!” She gestures indistinctly.

Harry licks his lips, eyebrow subconsciously raising challengingly. “I’m going to need you to be more specific, Misty.”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

“Sunshine,” he drawls, voice thick as honey, “all I ever want is to make you happy. That’s a promise.”

Misty swallows, nostrils flaring as she tries to get her breath under control. “Harry, I…” She trails off, because truth be told she doesn’t know where she was even going with this thought.

“What?” he asks, taking another step towards her. “Tell me.”

After a beat of intense silence Misty groans. “I don’t know! You’re so annoying and you’re so perfect and you make me so happy and I just--”

“What?” Harry says, inching closer. “You just what?”

Misty lowers her voice, eyes thick with sadness. “I just… don’t want to be feeling this way about you. I can’t. But you make it impossible to not.”

“To not what?”

“Fall for you.” Misty sighs. “I’m trying so hard not to because… well, you’re not actually here are you?”

“Can you see me?” Harry asks, matter-of-factly.

“Well, yes, but--”

“I’m here.” Harry reaches forward, lightly caressing Misty’s arm. “I’m right here Misty.”

Misty glances down to his hand, then back up at him. “Harry, I don’t know what I’m feeling.”

He pulls away, not wanting to pressure her into feeling any type of way at all. “What do you mean?”

“I mean-- God.” She lets out all of her air and shakes her head, almost cynically. “Harry I… really, really like you.”

If Harry had blood running through his veins, it would run cold at her words. “You do?”

“Have I not made it obvious?” Misty scoffs. “Fuck, dude, you’re so perfect.”

“I’m not,” Harry says in a breath. He steps forward. “Misty, I’m not.”

“You are,” she insists. “I want you so bad, Harry. And I’m scared.”

Harry processes her words slowly, and he knows he shouldn’t say what he’s about to say. But he does it anyway.

“I’m scared, too,” he admits softly, feeling more human than he’s felt in a long time.

“I’m scared that I’m going to really fall for you,” Misty continues, “because I know you’re just going to have to leave in the end. And I’m going to be sad, and I’m going to miss you, and—“

“Well then why don’t we just pretend?” Harry tries. “We’ve still got a few more weeks, haven’t we?”

“Yes, but the thought of you leaving won’t go away, Harry! It’s all I can think about. Every time I feel something for you I’m reminded of our situation and how you’ll never actually be mine.”

“I hate it,” Harry agrees, his own voice matching hers in volume now. “I absolutely hate it, but Misty, we can’t let that thought hang over the time we have left like a raincloud.”

“But--”

“You make me feel alive again, Misty!” Harry doesn’t mean to cut her off, but he can’t help it. “I know that’s forward, and we haven’t known each other for all that long, but it’s true.”

Misty looks like she wants to cry, and her eyes feel thick and heavy. She wills herself not to break, taking a moment to regain her composure before speaking. “Harry, I don’t know what to do,” she whispers. “I don’t… we can’t--”

Harry leans in, taking Misty’s chin in between his thumb and forefinger. He tilts her head up softly, effectively quieting her, and she realizes her lips are still parted. Harry can feel her breath, and it feels far too intimate to be real.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, voice tender and quiet.

Misty blinks up at him. “God,” she breathes, “I’ve been waiting for you to ask me that.”

Harry smiles, leaning in gently and fastening their lips together slowly. He takes her top lip between his own, and he can feel her instantly relax against him. She smiles faintly into the kiss as well, but makes no movement to pull him closer— as if she’s still a bit unsure. He kisses her again, then pulls away, scanning her face for any sign of discomfort.

“How do you feel?” He asks after a moment.

“Like I want to do that for the rest of my life.” Misty reaches up to cup Harry’s face and bring him in for another kiss.

Harry, of course, happily complies to her nonverbal request, snaking his hands around her waist and holding her gently to him. He timidly peeks his tongue out, gliding along her lip as if asking for permission, and she willingly submits— opening her mouth for him to lick into.

Misty giggles into his mouth the minute their tongues interact, and it makes Harry pull away. “What?”

“You taste good,” she says. “You taste…. sweet. I don’t know. I love it.”

“Oh.” He grins, pulling her back into him to pick up immediately where they left off.

It’s beautiful, and Harry feels happier than he’s felt in a long time now that he’s finally kissing her. He licks into her mouth softly, trying to convey all the words he isn’t yet brave enough to say.

“Harry.” Misty pulls away, smiling up at him. She’s so happy that it feels like everything her eyes land on is glowing. “God, I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

“Why didn’t you do it then? I wanted it, too!”

“Well why didn’t you?!”

Harry grins. “Wanted to see how long until you gave in, I suppose.” When Misty rolls her eyes, Harry chuckles. “Alright I’m kidding. I guess I was just… scared.”

“Me too,” Misty admits. “I mean… feelings are scary one way or another, but then when you add our situation in there its…”

“Weird as fuck,” Harry says, nodding. “Yeah. I hate it.” He smiles, cupping the back of her neck and bumping his nose tenderly against hers. “But I don’t fully. I’m very happy that I have you, sweet girl.”

Misty smiles, leaning gently into his touch. “Kiss me again,” she asks, “Please.”

Harry grins, pulling her close to him and pressing his lips gently to her forehead. “With pleasure.”

They continue like this for a while, giggly and unsure and so, so happy. It is weird, as they both admitted, but it’s so incredibly wonderful and fills both of their hearts with a warmth that neither of them have felt for a while. And as Harry continues to kiss against Misty’s smile, he forgets his situation— if only for a moment— to revel in the fact that he’s kissing the most beautiful girl he’s ever known.

He doesn’t think his entire existence could ever get better than it is right now.

------

Later that night, Misty sits cross legged on her bed, fresh from a shower and rubbing lotion into her arms while Harry explores her vinyl collection. She’s wearing the cutest t-shirt and pajama shorts combo Harry thinks he’s ever seen, and it’s driving him crazy. Things are definitely not awkward between them by any means, but the whole situation feels silly and exciting, like two middle schoolers who just admitted they had a mutual crush on one another.

Misty nods towards the Fleetwood Mac record Harry currently holds in his hands. “I found that one at a garage sale,” she says. “Luckiest find of my life.”

“No kidding.” Harry turns, smiling at her. He holds the record up. “Do you like Fleetwood Mac?”

“Nah, just thought the vinyl looked cool. I don’t even know any songs by them.”

Harry halts all movement, eyeing Misty to figure out if she means what she’s saying. She’s got him for a moment, her expression remains completely unbothered as she rubs her vanilla lotion into her arms. But then she giggles, face twisting up like she can’t believe Harry would even ask her that. “What the fuck kind of question is that, Harry? Hello? Why else would I have that?”

Harry snorts. “You know what? I’ve had enough of your sarcasm.”

“My sarcasm?” Misty says. “You’re one to talk!”

“Me? I’m a dream!” Harry returns the record to it’s rightful spot and makes his way over to the bed. “You on the other hand--”

Harry reaches for a pillow to whack Misty with, but Misty is quicker. She grabs the other pillow on her bed and shields his attack, squealing as he continues his fight on her regardless. He eventually tosses the pillow aside, going for what he knows will absolutely get her to cave and digging his fingers into her sides.

Misty squeals, instantly bucking into his touch as he squeezes at her. “Wait, no! Fucker! This is cheating!”

“Careful!” Harry taunts, fingers wiggling up to her ribs. “No one else knows I’m here! Would be awful embarrassing if they heard you talking and giggling to yourself, wouldn’t it?”

“Well then fucking stooooop!” Misty whines, wriggling under his grasp. “Why are you making me--” She is cut off by her own cackle before she continues-- “Do this?!”

“Because I can.” Harry beams down at her, leaning down to press a kiss to her nose. “Because it’s cute and you like it.”

“I don’t like it!” Misty practically howls. “You’re annoying!”

“Oh,” Harry says, ceasing the movement of his fingers. “I’m annoying?”

“YES!” Misty whines, pouting up at him.

He smiles, leaning closer into her face and enjoying the heat radiating off of her cheeks. “Do you really not like it?”

Misty pants, catching her breath and smiling up at Harry. “No,” she admits after a beat.

Harry squirms so he’s fully on top of her now. “‘No’ you don’t like it? Or ‘no’ as in you do like it and don’t want me to stop?”

Misty reaches up to cover her face as much as Harry’s body pinning her will allow. “‘No’ as in… don’t stop.”

Harry grins, pressing a kiss to Misty’s nose. “I figured.”

Harry trails his lips lightly along Misty’s cheeks leading up to her mouth, pressing smiley kisses to the soft skin and loving the way he can feel her smile beneath him. “Pretty girl,’ he mutters. “You’re the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

When he finally fastens his lips to hers, Misty sighs. She opens her mouth willingly, allowing him to lick his way in, and she delights in the sweet taste of his tongue against hers. She allows her hand to trail up Harry’s icy neck, tangling her fingers in his hair before she tilts her head away slightly to speak.

“You know,” she muses, “You could be awful mean to me if you wanted to be.”

Harry quirks an eyebrow, cocking his head to the side teasingly. “Do you want me to be mean to you?”

Misty only sighs. “If you have to ask--” She trails off, fingertips lightly toying with the hem of Harry’s shirt. There’s a moment of tense silence in which she bats her eyes up at him innocently, and that’s all the starting gun he needs.

“Ohh, sweetheart,” Harry coos. “You’re going to have to be more convincing than that.”

Misty groans, her facade crumbling away little by little. “I cannnn’t,” she whines, hiding her face in her hands. Harry can see her smile between her hands however, and it eggs him on.

“You can,” he says, voice almost mockingly sweet. He rises to sit on his knees. “Know you can. You just won’t.”

Harry reaches up, trying to gently coax her hands from her face as best he can. “You know why you won’t?”

Misty peeks through her fingers, shaking her head but not verbally answering Harry. He flashes her his cheekiest dimpled grin. “Because you want me to make you say it. Am I right?”

Misty giggles as Harry successfully lowers her hands. “You can’t make me say it,” she says teasingly.

Harry shrugs, placing his hand on Misty’s calf and squeezing lightly. “It’s true. I can’t. Can’t make you do anything you don’t want to, baby.” He walks his fingers up her leg, tauntingly tracing his pointer finger around her kneecap and making her shiver. “But darling, this cute little act of yours is only going to get you so far.

“It’s gotten me far enough, hasn’t it?” Misty licks her lips subconsciously, reaching forward to scratch behind Harry’s ear. “Obviously things have gone my way.”

“Have they?” Harry says, cocking his head. “I haven’t given in yet, have I?”

“How much longer until you do?” Misty asks, giggling nervously.

Harry shakes his head, leaning in to press a kiss to the side of Misty’s chin. “Dunno,” he says. “Wanna see how long you’re going to act like this for.”

Harry presses a few more rapid kisses directly to Misty’s chin before trailing them up to the fleshiest parts of her cheeks. After a few kisses there, he pulls away.

“Your cheeks are so hot, sunshine,” Harry muses, reaching up and tracing a knuckle along the tender skin. “Why?”

“Hot in here,” Misty breathes, voice so low that Harry can barely even make out what she’s saying.

Harry’s honey drip of a voice sends shivers down Misty’s spine when he speaks. “No,” he says with a grin. “That’s not it.”

With his other hand, Harry trails his fingertips down the sensitive skin of her arm, making her squirm a bit. “Know what I think it is?” His fingers squeeze delicately over her hips before resting on her exposed thigh-- where he gives her a soft scratch. “I think somebody is embarrassed about how badly she wants me to be mean to her.”

Harry leans in, pressing an icy kiss to her neck that makes her instinctively tremble. A breathy moan floats past her lips as Harry ghosts his own along her collarbone. He takes his time with this, really inhaling her scent and her warmth as he makes his way down her body. His fingers trace delicately along the waistband of her pajama shorts, her stomach jolting a bit when he hits a sensitive spot on her hips. Misty watches his face with parted lips, so completely enamoured by him and his touch that she’s rendered speechless.

Slowly, gently, Harry lowers his hand to the spot between her legs, feeling the damp heat against the soft fabric of her short pajama bottoms. He grins, slowly adjusting to sit up on his knees once again. He takes her in, her entire body, and allows himself to really savor this moment. When his eyes fall on the beauty between her legs again, however, he stops.

“And you know what else I think?” Harry says, grinning over her as his fingers tease her waistband once again. “I think you like being embarrassed like this. I think you like that I can do this to you, and we’re the only two who’ll ever know about it. Hm? Am I right?”

Misty gulps, goosebumps prickling her skin and lips glistening. She nods. “Yes,” she breathes. “You’re exactly right.”

“I knew it,” Harry says, hooking his fingers into her waistband. “Filthy girl, aren’t you?” He begins lowering the shorts from her hips, never breaking eye contact and smirking at how willingly she complies with his movements. When he pulls the shorts past her feet he flings them carelessly to the floor, then glances down at the ever-growing wet spot on the fabric between her legs. He grins up at her. “Messy thing you are, too. Look how wet you get just from some teasing.”

“Harry--” Misty breathes.

“Love it when you say my name like that, darling,” Harry purrs. He leans forward to press a kiss directly to her bellybutton. The kiss is wet, and the sound of it mixed with Misty’s beautiful sighing is enough to make Harry melt. He can’t help but to close his eyes and take a deep breath in, sighing when he’s met with her heavenly scent. “Smell so fucking good,” he mumbles. “Haven’t smelt anything like this in years.”

“Don’t--” Misty breathes, “Don’t tease.”

“Ohh,” Harry tuts, tracing the spot where her inner thigh meets the fabric of her panties. “Poor thing doesn’t want me to tease?”

He glances up at her from under his lashes, and the look on her face sends Harry over the moon. Her eyes are wide and the smile on her slightly parted lips is so warm and inviting that Harry almost has a hard time keeping this up.

“Well, I find that hard to believe.”

He sinks his teeth into the waistband of her panties without any warning, and she gasps at the sudden sharpness mixed with the temperature of his mouth on her hips.

Misty lets out an unfiltered moan and immediately flings her hand up to her mouth to keep herself quiet. She gives herself only a few moments to compose herself before whispering, “Harry, I… I need you--”

“Aww,” Harry coos, his teeth still hooked around her panties. He shakes his head a bit, curls falling in his face as he pulls the fabric away from Misty’s skin. “Needy,” he mutters, tugging a bit in an attempt to remove the panties.

When the lower half of Misty’s body is exposed to the chill of Harry’s skin, she shivers, and he delights in the movement for the first time since he’s met her.

“Know I’m cold,” he says quietly, teeth still clenched around her panties as he drags them down her leg. “But it feels good, doesn’t it?”

Misty nods. “M-hm…” She’s eyeing him, and he’s moving slowly because he can tell she has something she wants to say. He discards her panties onto the ground and tries not to outwardly show just how fucking delicious she looks right now. He’s practically drooling at the sight of her, but she’s nervous, and he doesn’t want to push her too far. So instead, he trails his nails slowly up her calf, looking only in her eye and waiting patiently for her to speak.

“Nervous?” he asks.

“Well, no,” she says. “But I…” she trails off, squirming when his eyes land between her legs once again.

“What’s wrong?”

“I…” she starts, squirming a bit. “I didn’t shave.”

Harry almost laughs at her when she says this. “Oh, darling. That’s what’s got you so nervous?”

She nods. “Yeah. I mean, I didn’t think… I don’t know.”

“Your pussy looks amazing,” Harry says, deciding to just bite the bullet and be as forward as he feels. “Looks fucking delicious. Smells delicious as well. I certainly don’t mind a bit of hair.”

“You don’t?” she asks, sitting up.

“Are you kidding?” He reaches forward, brushing against some of the hair with his finger. “Fucking sexy as hell. Don’t be silly.”

“I mean,” Misty says quickly, “I suppose it’s probably been, like, a minute since you’ve seen a pussy. So I guess any pussy is gonna be fine. I mean, not to assume your preferences, or anything, but you know--”

Harry leans forward, biting Misty’s thigh and making her yelp. “Shh,” he mumbles. “Please.”

Misty giggles nervously. “Okay,” she says.

Harry leans down and kisses the spot he’s just nipped at, trailing his lips up her thigh and settling himself on his stomach. Being this close to her core ignites something in him that he hasn’t felt in years, and just the smell of her alone makes his mouth water.

With one hand Harry coaxes Misty’s leg up and over his shoulder, and now with a clearer view of her beautiful pussy he licks his lips.

“You’re already so wet,” he observes. “Wanted it this badly, did you?”

“Want you,” she replies, squirming. “So bad.”

Harry takes his time with it, eyeing her body up and down before leaning in to press the most velvet soft kiss directly at her center His scruff tickles her lightly, and she lets out a sigh.

Harry hums against her core before really diving into his work, peeking his tongue out from between his lips to lap delicately at her clit. He watches her from under his long lashes, waiting for a reaction from her as he explores her with his tongue— wanting to find the best spot to really devour.

She watches him intently, as if in a daze, while he sucks at her, and it takes him a moment to realize she’s holding her breath. So he pops off of her clit gently, making her jolt, before reaching up to place a hand on her belly. “Breathe, baby.”

Perhaps Misty didn’t realize she was holding her breath, because she lets it all out in a puff. Her tummy immediately grows a bit and Harry loves it, loves seeing her fully relaxed for him like this.

“You okay?” He asks. “Genuinely.”

“I’m okay,” she says.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Cross your heart?”

Misty snorts. “I swear on my life, Harry, come onnnn.”

He giggles, “Alright alright.” Without any further warning, he leans down and presses the softest kiss directly to her clit, resuming his work and licking against her.

The only noises in the room are Misty’s heavy breathing and soft sighing, mixed with the wet noises of Harry’s mouth-- and it all feels so filthy and intimate that it makes Harry lose himself in his work. He moans, even louder than she does, and it makes her back arch a bit off of the mattress.

“Harry--” she sighs.

Harry tilts his head, ghosting his lips against her thigh. “Careful,” he says. “I don’t have to be quiet. You do.”

Misty smiles to herself, enjoying the feeling of his tongue between her legs. The sensation of his temperature down there is something she’s never experienced before in her life, and it makes the entire experience all the more intoxicatingly wonderful.

“God you taste so fucking good,” Harry mumbles, pulling his head back only slightly and reaching up to rub at her clit. “Like fucking honey. Delicious.” He lowers his fingers to collect her wetness, observing the stickiness coating the digits before raising his hand to her mouth.

He doesn’t even have to tell her to do anything, she’s already opening her mouth and sticking her tongue out. Harry rests his fingertips on her tongue, and she envelopes them with her lips, giving them a nice long suck that causes Harry to make a most obscene noise in the back of his throat.

The temporary distraction lights a fire in Harry’s soul, and he ducks down to bury his face in her pussy once more. She arches her back when he hits a particularly good spot, and she accidentally bites down gently on his fingers— which Harry is surprised to find that he loves the feeling of.

Harry hums against her, wiggling his fingers a bit as a silent request for her to loosen up. She opens her mouth, unable to contain the moan that escapes her lips when she does so. Harry envelops her clit with his lips and sucks harshly, and she squirms against him.

“Harry--” She breathes. “It’s so… fuck-- you’re so good…”

“Quiet now,” Harry mumbles against the skin of her thigh. “Unless you want them to know how filthy you are.”

“I don’t care,” Misty pants breathlessly. “I’ll blame my vibrator, I don’t care, I’ll--- oh fuuuuck.” She’s cut off when Harry sinks his teeth into the flesh of her thigh, and even he moans at the sensation.

“Fucking shit,” he mumbles as he pulls away, admiring the dents that his teeth left and the string of saliva trailing from his bottom lip to her plushy skin. “You taste good everywhere.”

“More,” Misty pleads. “Harry, more, please.”

Harry sits mesmerized by the imprint of his own teeth on her thigh. “They’ll think you’re crazy if they hear you.”

Misty groans, and Harry instinctively reaches up and covers her mouth without hesitation. He considers stopping, punishing her for not listening to him and being loud. But looking up at her, seeing how needy and fucked out she already looks has him weak. So he buries his face between her legs and prepares to finish the job, licking her out like it’s the one thing he was born to do.

Misty’s hand flies to Harry’s hair and she tugs so hard it makes him wince. Honestly, it’s the best feeling he’s felt in ages. No one has pulled his hair like this since long before he died, and the feeling alone causes him to moan out loud against her core.

“Fucking shit, Misty,” he mumbles. “Do that again.”

“You like that?” Misty cries breathlessly, her fingers moving frantically to grasp at his curls once again.

Harry groans, lapping against her clit and enjoying the most pleasure he’s felt in years. “Misty,” he breathes, relishing in the way she twitches against the tickle of his breath against her skin, “You’re so fucking perfect.”

“Fuck,” Misty groans. “Holy shit--”

“Is this good sweet girl?”

“I need more,” Misty cries, and who is Harry to deny her of her simple request?

He reaches down, fingering gently at the wetness pooling between her legs before teasing a single finger into her-- never once removing his lips from her clit.

He sucks harshly while his finger simultaneously searches for the spongy spot inside of her. She squirms around his digit, and Harry has to use his other hand to pin her hips down.

“Hold still,” he instructs.

“I can’t,” Misty whines. “I need another finger.”

She’s practically begging at this point, and it makes Harry so smug. “Ohhh,” he says, lips ghosting her thighs again, “So you’re the one calling the shots, are you?”

He’s teasing, of course, because he knows that she absolutely is the one in control of everything that’s going on right now. But the way she’s dripping, tugging on his hair and practically shoving his face into her-- as well as verbally begging him-- strokes his ego.

“Please,” she groans. “I want-- fuck-- I need to cum.”

Harry smirks up at her, tutting his lips. “Not even embarrassed to be so needy?” he teases. “My god…”

As much as he loves to tease her, though, he wants to make her cum more than anything else. And seeing her on the brink like this-- already-- makes him all the more eager. So he adds a second finger, pumping his digits in and out and lapping at her clit like it’s his last meal.

She lets out an obscene moan, louder than any of the others she’s let out, and he knows she’s close. But for the sake of her pride, he knows she has to stay quiet. So he removes his hand from her hip and presses it to her mouth.

“Quiet,” he instructs, giving her face a little squeeze before putting his entire heart and soul into eating her.

Misty is wiggling like mad now, and it takes everything in Harry to keep his mouth on her. He knows that if he lets go of her mouth to try and pin her hips down again, she’ll expose herself— loudly— so this is a challenge Harry gladly accepts.

She stills briefly when her orgasm hits, and then her thighs are trembling around his face. Her stomach is clenched and she’s drooling against the palm of his hand. Her muffled moans are music to his ears, but they do sort of catch Harry off guard because he’d never guess that she’d be such a vocal cummer. Of course, he isn’t complaining, and he wishes that he could hear her, completely unfiltered, with no one around to catch them.

Misty’s stomach relaxes a little bit at the same time she lets out a few little cries, and Harry realizes that she’s finished-- although her pussy continues to flutter with aftershocks against his tongue. He slowly removes his hand from her wet mouth and looks up at her from under his lashes.

She looks utterly fucked, with tears in her eyes and chest rising and falling gently as she tries to catch her breath. Harry is fascinated, thinking he’s never seen anyone so beautiful in his entire life, and he realizes that he hasn’t moved in a while when Misty squirms beneath him.

He removes his lips from her but continues to watch her, relieved when her features seem to relax and she lets out a breathy giggle. “My god,” she says, voice somewhat hoarse. “That was--”

“A dream,” Harry says, now allowing himself to relax a bit as well. He looks down at her soaked pussy and grins. “You’re messy.”

“Can you blame me?” Misty reaches up to run a hand through her hair. “Fuck, that was good.”

“Yeah?” Harry smiles. “I’m so glad.”

Misty hums, reaching down to playfully muss up Harry’s hair. “Now, come up here so I can take care of you, pretty boy.”

Her words hit Harry’s heart, causing it to sink immediately. “Oh, doll,” he tuts, “God, I wish you could.”

Misty frowns. “What do you mean?”

“No blood in my veins,” Harry explains sadly, still making no effort to remove himself from between her legs. “No blood… no boner. I don’t get hard. I don’t cum.”

“Holy shit.” Misty props herself up on her elbows, looking down at Harry and causing the cutest double chin Harry thinks he’s ever seen. “Seriously?”

Harry nods. “Seriously. So even if you did… I wouldn’t feel anything.”

“Do you…” Misty’s voice gets quiet, as if suddenly going shy. “Do you still get horny?”

“Yeah.” Harry kisses Misty’s knee. “Of course. You think I don’t feel anything while I’m eating your beautiful pussy?”

“I don’t know!” Misty whines. “I feel like there is so much about you that I’m still learning.”

“Well,” Harry says with a sigh. “You turn me on. More than anyone I’ve ever known. My body may not be able to physically show it… but you do something to me that I haven’t felt in years.”

“So I’ll never be able to suck you off?” Misty pouts.

Harry smiles sadly. “I’m afraid not, sweet girl.”

“Holy shit.” Misty frowns. “That fucking sucks.”

Harry laughs. “I mean… it’s not so bad. I get to make you feel good.” He licks softly at her pussy in an attempt to begin cleaning her up, and she flinches out of sensitivity, causing him to chuckle.

“I hate it though,” Harry admits, “kind of. I hate that I can’t…. well… pardon my French here but—“

“Fuck me?” Misty finishes. “You hate that you can’t fuck me? Because I want you to.”

Harry snorts. “Well damn, miss Misty. Never expected you to be so forward but yes, I hate that I can’t fuck you the way you deserve to be fucked.”

Misty frowns. “I just want to make you feel good.”

“You do make me feel good.,” Harry says with a smile. “Every second that we’re together feels better than the last.” He licks at her pussy once again, smiling at the way she wiggles against his tongue instantaneously.

“Now,” he says, “let’s get you cleaned up and get that English paper done, hm?”

-------

It’s the night of Misty’s sorority homecoming, and Misty is having a less than ideal time.

It isn’t that the venue isn’t wonderful, or that her friends aren’t being lovely. Everything seems perfect from the outside, and Misty knows she should be enjoying it. But her problem isn’t with the event itself— it’s the fact that she’s here alone.

Because the one person she’d wanted to bring as her date happens to be a ghost.

Harry had watched her get ready all day, constantly telling her how gorgeous she looked and laughing, amused, when she’d tried countless times to get him to give in and come with her. Of course he wasn’t going to do that, and she understood, but still.

He’d sent her off with a kiss, reminding her one last time how absolutely stunning she looked and promising to be waiting up for her the minute she returned home. And she’d left, reluctantly, because she knew he was right— she did need to go off and live her life.

But god, what she would give to have him here right now.

“Misty!”

Misty realizes she’s been staring at the wall, the drink in her hand nearly spilling over, when she’s startled out of her thoughts. Angie walks excitedly towards her.

Angie, of course, looks stunning. She’s wearing a long, blue gown that compliments her eyes nicely, and her hair is done up in curls that are so perfectly put together they don’t even look real. She flashes Misty a warm smile as she approaches.

“Girl!” she says. “What’s wrong with you? You alright?”

Misty smiles, realizing that she probably looks silly all zoned out like this. “Yeah, no, I’m good! Sorry. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“You look sad,” Angie says, worry creasing her eyes. “You sure you’re just tired?”

Misty sighs, because god, she really wishes she could explain her situation to Angie. Or anyone really. “Yeah, I’m good. Sorry.”

“Well you should get out there and dance!” Angie says encouragingly. “The DJ kinda sucks but like, if you take a shot beforehand it’s not that bad.”

“He does kinda suck, doesn’t he?” Misty giggles.

“Oh, also…” Angie hesitates before speaking her next sentence. “Josh is looking for you.”

Misty rolls her eyes, but Angie continues talking. “I knoooow, I know he sucks but like… I don’t know, maybe if you got drunk and made out a little bit it would--”

“Why would I do that?” Misty asks. “He came here with Brooke anyway!”

“Oh yeah, and she’s pissed about it,” Angie giggles. “Everyone knows he was just trying to make you jealous. Poor Brooke.”

“Yeah,’ Misty says. “Josh sucks.”

“You know, I don’t know why you won’t give him a chance!” Angie leans against the wall, taking a sip of the bright orange drink in her glass. “I mean, he like, very clearly wants you.”

“I don’t want him,” Misty replies. “Like, at all. If he can’t take a hint, then--’

Misty trails off when she notices Angie squinting over her shoulder. “Who the hell--” Angie whispers.

“What?” Misty turns slowly, and her jaw drops when she sees what it is that Angie is looking at.

In walks Harry, physical body and all, waving at everyone like he’s known them all his life.

Is she dreaming? Surely she has to be. She shakes her head, then reaches up to her forehead as if to check her temperature. Can everyone else see him? How is he here?

Her movement catches Harry’s eye, and he beams at her, turning his full attention towards her and heading in her direction. “Misty!” He calls, waving at her.

Angie’s jaw is practically on the floor, as are the jaws of almost every girl in the room. “You know him?” Angie asks.

And honestly, Misty isn’t sure what the right answer to that question is. “I--” is all she can manage to get out.

Harry approaches, and Misty is not only greeted by his delicious cinnamon scent, but a strong, spicy cologne. He looks delicious in this suit, and when he hugs her she shivers, partly because of his cold skin and partly (mostly) because she can’t believe her eyes.

“Hiya, darling,” Harry says, wrapping Misty up in a chilly hug and kissing her cheek. “You look absolutely beautiful tonight.”

“Thank you,” Misty manages to stammer out, although her facial expression must give away how confused she is.

Harry only smiles down at her, reaching up gently to close her mouth. He then turns to Angie with a pleasant smile. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” he says, extending a hand. “I’m Harry.”

Angie wastes no time, reaching forward to shake his hand quickly. She seems taken aback by the temperature of his hands, but Harry pays it no mind. Instead he brushes it off with a quick, “Don’t mind the cold hands. Can never quite get used to the weather out here.”

Misty giggles, awkwardly, wrapping her arm around Harry’s back. “Darling,” she says, as forcibly normal as possible, “I had no idea you were coming tonight.”

“Wanted to surprise you!” Harry answers cooly, before turning back to Angie. “I’m sorry, love, I didn’t catch your name…?”

“It’s Angie!” Angie blurts, cheeks growing redder by the minute. She giggles like a little schoolgirl. “Misty never mentioned she had a boyfriend… much less such a handsome one.”

Harry smiles. “I’m flattered, Angie. Thank you. But no, actually, Misty and I are just casual for now. We met a few summers ago during her spring break back home. We’re… oh, I don’t know what to call it… talking? I suppose?” Harry laughs, grinning down at Misty.

Misty, still in shock, misses a beat before realizing that he’s addressing her. She laughs stiffly. “Yes,” she says, “‘talking’ is a good word.”

Harry grins back at Angie. “And you? Where’s your lucky fellow tonight?”

“Oh,” Angie says, biting at her lip, growing visibly excited at the mention of her date. “He’s um… he’s somewhere around here. I guess we’re uh— talking as well.”

“Ah,” Harry says, “I see.”

He’s so ridiculously chipper, so casually cool, and Misty is growing more and more impatient by the minute. She laughs, accidentally cutting Angie off just as she begins a sentence.

“Angie, I’m sorry, but would you mind if I took Harry outside for a bit? I didn’t realize he was going to be here tonight and we… uh…” She looks up at Harry, who only grins smugly back at her, “We have a bit of catching up to do.”

“Oh sure!” Angie says. “Of course, babe, go have fun.” She smiles brightly at Harry. “It was so nice meeting you, I’ll catch up with you both later, yeah?”

“Yeah!” Harry says, warmly. “Of course!”

Misty smiles at Harry, but the look in her eyes informs Harry that she has a lot to say. He smiles, so ridiculously casual and sweet, and takes her hand.

“After you sunshine,” he says.

Misty rolls her eyes, but she does smile softly to herself as she leads him outside. Harry doesn’t know if she means to, but she gives his hand a slight squeeze as she walks. He gives her hand a squeeze right back, far more intentional than hers, and her breathy little giggle does not go unnoticed by him.

Harry eyes the room, taking in his surroundings and looking for who he has decided is his number one enemy in life (and technically death)-- Josh. He doesn’t find him at first, and he has to admit that his heart sinks a bit at the thought of not being able to show Misty off right to Josh’s face. But then he finds him, outside smoking a cigar with a few other guys, and Harry perks up once again.

Misty doesn’t even acknowledge the boys as she continues to lead Harry to a quiet corner of the garden, but Harry of course isn’t going to stand for that. Not when he has the satisfaction of seeing Josh’s face light up upon Misty’s arrival only to completely drop half a second later when he sees she’s with somebody. Harry’s not letting it end there.

“Evening, guys.” Harry raises his free hand to his forehead, giving the group an effortless salute. “Gorgeous night, innit?”

Josh takes the bait, immediately stepping out of the circle and making his way over to Harry and Misty. Misty doesn’t even notice until Harry is resisting her tug, and when she turns around to see who’s approaching she rolls her eyes. “Fuckin hell,” she mumbles.

Harry, of course, has the complete opposite reaction, smiling warmly right back at Josh.

“Hey man!” Josh says, holding out his free hand. “I’m Josh. Don’t think I’ve ever seen you around?”

“Never been around,” Harry says matter-of-factly. He takes Josh’s hand with a grip so firm Misty can sense it. “I’m Harry.”

“Nice to meet you, Harry!” Josh’s smile is so fake Misty wants to scream, and she wishes she could evaporate into thin air to escape the awkward tension in the air right now. “How do you know Misty?”

“I’m from her hometown!” Harry says. “Met her a few spring breaks ago. We’ve been casual for a while now.”

“Have you?” Josh looks pointedly at Misty, and she rolls her eyes. Harry never looks away from Josh.

“I would say so, yeah,” Harry smiles. “On and off of course.”

“I see.” Josh nods stiffly.

“Oh wait!” Harry says suddenly, as if a thought has just occurred to him. “Ohhh, you’re Josh! Misty here has told me quite a bit about you!”

Misty can feel the blood rushing to her cheeks as she glances frantically between Harry and Josh. Josh smiles.

“Oh yeah? All good things I hope!”

“Mmm…” Harry says in a questioning tone, shrugging a bit but maintaining his smile.

Josh stares blankly back at Harry, completely unsure of how to process what he’s just said, and Misty can’t help but giggle.

“Okay, well!” she says, trying and failing to hide the smile on her face. “This has been super lovely but Harry and I have quite a bit of catching up to do, don’t we?”

“We sure do, pumpkin!” Harry wiggles his nose exaggeratedly at Misty and she laughs. He turns back to Josh. “Nice to finally meet the famous Josh,” he says. “I’m sure I’ll see ya around!”

“Uh,” Josh stammers. “Yeah. See ya.”

Misty tugs Harry away from Josh and over to a secluded corner of the garden, and Harry shoots Josh a pointed and intimidating look over his shoulder before turning to Misty. She tries to be serious, but she can’t stop herself from giggling.. “Harry what the hell!” She hisses.

He smiles. “Surprised? Happy? Do you want to kill me?”

“Um, yes to all of the above!” Misty lightly slaps his arm. “What are you doing here?!”

“Wanted to surprise you,” he says, reaching forward to gently hook his pinky with Misty’s. “Figured a beautiful girl like you shouldn’t be alone on a big night like this. I wanted to help make it special.”

Harry leans in and places a kiss right on Misty’s cheekbone. “Besides,” he says, softer, “I couldn’t give Josh the satisfaction of thinking he had a chance tonight.”

Misty giggles, oblivious to the way the nearby group of boys are all watching her longingly. Harry laughs along with her, kissing her nose and then her smile. “Are you happy, sunshine?”

“So happy,” she says, kissing him back. “Beyond happy.”

Misty pulls away, eyeing Harry in his suit. Never in her life has she ever seen a more handsome man, and she lets out a hum of satisfaction. “But,” she says slowly. “I don’t… understand. Your energy--”

“I’ll be fine, love,” Harry insists. “It’s one night. As long as you’re happy.”

“Yeah but--”

“No buts.” Harry smiles. “Now, something tells me you haven’t danced much tonight. Is that true?”

Misty smirks. “Didn’t feel right dancing without you.”

“Well, that’s a shame,” Harry says. “We’ll have to fix that, won’t we?” He holds his arm out to her, raising his eyebrows.

Misty eyes his arm before giggling and linking arms with him. She shakes her head. “I can’t believe you.”

Harry leads her back inside, shooting Josh one more pointed look before holding the door open for Misty. She’s like a giggly schoolgirl as she walks through, taking Harry’s hand in hers and giving it a long squeeze.

Misty practically floats onto the dance floor as a slower song begins, and Harry can’t believe she’s real. He twirls her under his arm, admiring the way her skirt swishes and catches the dim lights. She beams up at him brightly before wrapping an arm up around his shoulders and pulling him in. They begin swaying together as Harry pulls her in closer by her hips; the scent of her perfume just below his nose. He can feel her sigh contentedly against his chest, and it makes him smile to himself.

“It’s so nice to finally dance with you like, out in the open and stuff,” Misty says. “Instead of looking like I’m possessed.”

Harry laughs. “I know. It’s nice to be seen. It’s nice to show off my dancing.” The minute he finishes his sentence, he spins Misty out, then in, before dipping her. She squeals, giggling up at him and going limp in his arms.

“Love hearing you laugh like that,” Harry says, mirroring what he’d told her the first night they danced together. “I mean it.”

He pulls her back up into him, her hair flying behind her. “No one makes me laugh the way you do,” she admits. “I love it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.’

A comfortable silence falls between the two of them for the next few moments, and they can’t seem to keep their eyes off of each other. Harry let’s out a boyish giggle and leans forward, pressing a peck to her nose.

“You know,” Misty says. “You’re actually a pretty good dancer for a ghost.”

“I’m not sure whether I should take offense to that or not.”

“It’s a compliment,” Misty laughs. “I’m just impressed. A lot of guys I know aren’t really good at dancing.”

“I was known to be quite the dancer in my day,” Harry says, spinning her out and then quickly back into him once again.

“Really?”

Harry gives Misty a soft little hip check. “Not at all.”

Harry and Misty laugh their way through the rest of the dance, hardly even realizing when the music slows to a stop. Harry leans down, pressing the sweetest kiss to Misty’s lips before she even has a chance to say anything, and she smiles into the kiss— communicating exactly how she’s feeling just by her kiss alone.

After a few more dances, they make their way to a table, giggling and out of breath. Harry orders Misty another drink, socializing with everyone at the table like he’s known them his whole life. And as Misty watches him through slightly buzzed and love drunk eyes, she allows herself to feel, just for the moment, that everything in her little world is perfect with Harry.

———

About an hour and a few drinks later, Misty wanders into the restroom, leaving behind a very happy Harry— who chats effortlessly with the other people at their table. She realizes halfway through her journey that her face hurts from smiling, and she giggles to herself quietly.

Her situation may be incredibly unique, but she’s so lucky to have Harry here on her arm this evening. She giggles, throat thick with the sweet drink she’s been sipping on and eyes hazy, before washing her hands and making her way back out into the hallway. No one is around, and she begins to make her way back into the large dance hall when she nearly runs someone over as she turns the corner.

“Oh, sorry!” She looks up, immediately relieved to find that it’s Harry she’s bumped into.

He smiles down at her. “Slow down there, speed racer. Where are you going in such a hurry?”

“Coming to find you,” she says, smiling at him. She rises up onto her toes and kisses his chin.

“Mm.” Harry hums, tilting his head to kiss her lips. “Having a fun night?”

“Yes.” She wraps her arms around his waist, pressing her face to his chest and inhaling the delicious cinnamon scent of him. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Yeah?” Harry presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Me too. So glad.”

Misty pulls away, licking her lips and adjusting Harry’s bowtie that she’d accidentally muffed up. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine!” Harry insists. “Like I could run a marathon.”

‘Oh yeah?” Misty eyes him quizzically, and he laughs.

“I mean… no,” he says. “But I feel fine.”

Misty groans. “You’re using too much energy.”

“Will you stop?” He asks, pulling her closer by the small of her back. “I’m fine.”

“Promise?”

‘Promise?”

“Swear?”

Harry chuckles. “Swear.”

“Cross your heart?”

Harry boops Misty’s nose. “And hope to die.”

Misty rolls her eyes, reaching up to comb her fingers through Harry’s slightly messy hair. “You’re not funny,” she says, booping his nose right back. “But you are handsome as hell. Especially tonight.”

“Yeah?” Harry tilts his body, tugging at the ends of his suit jacket. “Like it? Picked it out myself.”

“How?”

Harry winks. “Magic.”

“Oh god,” Misty giggles. “Well, however you actually did it… I’m glad you did.” She runs her hands along his shoulders and down his arms, squeezing his hands gently. “You look fucking delicious.”

“Hardly. You’re far too sweet to me, angel, but I figured that if I was going to be this beautiful girl’s date tonight, I needed to look the part.”

Misty hums, pulling him in by his lapel and buttoning her lips with his. He smiles against her mouth, and she licks eagerly against his bottom lip. He knows exactly the kind of mood she’s in just by the way she’s kissing him, and he reaches up to cup the back of her neck.

“God,” she breathes, lips ghosting his. “The things I would do to you.”

Harry gulps, loving the forwardness coming from her pretty lips. “Yeah?” He nods, as if urging her to go on.

“Mm, I could devour you. It’s all I want.”

Harry tilts his head, pulling Misty closer and kissing her ear. “What else do you want?”

“To feel you,” she says. “I bet you’re so big.”

Despite having no blood in his veins, Misty’s words stroke Harry’s ego and twist his stomach into knots. “Mm,” he hums, trying to maintain his smug demeanor. “I am, actually.”

“Damn.” Misty pouts, softly fingering at Harry’s bowtie. “God I wish I could suck you.”

Harry gulps, because fuck does he sure wish that as well. He raises a hand to brush Misty’s hair back from her face, eyes flickering between her lips and her eyes. “I know, sweet girl. Me too.”

They spend a few moments just looking at one another, speaking without words. Harry gently caresses her cheeks, wishing more than anything that his touch wasn’t so damn cold. He clears his throat softly. “We have to get back out there, you know.”

“I know,” Misty sighs.

‘You look so beautiful.” Harry smiles, reaching forward to take Misty’s hand in his own. “Never seen anyone so beautiful.”

“You’re one to talk,’ Misty says softly, making Harry scoff. “Can’t take my eyes off of you.”

“Then don’t,” Harry teases. “Does wonders for my ego when you look at me like that.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

Misty hums, reaching up to thumb at Harry’s cheek. “I want you,” she says quietly. “So fucking badly.”

“Yeah?” Harry says softly, gears turning in his head as he realizes the exact kind of mood Misty is in. “What is it you want exactly, baby?”

Harry has only known Misty a short time, comparatively speaking, but he knows her well enough to know exactly what buttons to push. He knows what that look in her eyes means, and he knows how to turn her on with only his words.

He also knows that making her put into words exactly what she wants turns her into a messy, embarrassed puddle that turns them both on. So he watches her expectantly.

“Well,” Misty says slowly, heat radiating off of her face. “I want…. To suck you off.”

“I know,” Harry coos, trailing his fingertips along her jawline. “Said that already. But you know you can’t, baby. Doesn’t work like that.”

“I hate it,” Misty pouts. “I just want to make you feel as good as you make me feel.”

“Making you feel good makes me feel good,” Harry says. He waits for a response, and when it doesn’t come, tense idea forming in his head comes to fruition.

He reaches around to cup the back of her neck, scratching lightly at the hair there. “You want me to make you feel good right now, pretty girl? Hm?”

Misty snaps almost fully out of her trance then, glancing around nervously. “Harry, we can’t right now. Are you joking? We’re in public--”

“Why not?” Harry grins down at her. “You know I can disappear. Make it so that only you could see me.”

“Yeah but--”

“Nobody would know,” he shrugs, tacking on a quick, “that is, if you can keep quiet for me.”

Misty sighs sharply at his words, and he chuckles.

“Sunshine, if you don’t want to, I won’t.”

“No, I…” Misty lowers her voice, despite the fact that they’re still the only two in the hallway. “I want to.”

“Yeah?” Harry asks. “You sure? Not trying to pressure you.”

Misty looks up at him, a nervous smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “You’re not pressuring me. I’ve always wanted to do some raunchy shit like this.”

“Oh yeah? Bit of an exhibionist are we?”

Misty giggles. “Harry.”

“I’ll go under the table. No one will even know I’m there. Even if they look.”

“But where should I tell them you went?”

“Hm.” Harry hums, considering this for a few moments. “Cigar break. Went out to smoke. You were out with me for a bit but I got a phone call and you got cold. So you came inside.”

Misty frowns. “You don’t smoke.”

“I’m also not a living human being, but here we are.” Harry grins, pulling Misty in closer and lowering his voice. “Gonna let me make you cum, pretty girl? Hm?’

“Yes,” Misty whispers back, shyly avoiding his gaze. “Yes.”

“In front of all these people?” Harry asks teasingly. “Naughty.”

“Harry--”

He laughs, pressing a kiss to her nose. “Alright, alright. Go sit at the table. I think they’re about to serve dessert anyway.”

“And you’re going to miss it?” Misty pouts.

“Misty,” Harry says, “You know damn well I’m going to be enjoying my own dessert.”

Misty rolls her eyes. “I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

“You did, yeah.” He pinches her butt. “Now go. Please. I’m hungry.”

“Oh my godddd. Fine.”

She presses one more quick kiss to Harry’s cheek and turns to leave, but he reaches forward-- taking her hand and spinning her back around. “Wait.”

“Hm?”

“When I come in, you’ll be the only one who can see me. You’ll have to cover for me when I get under the table.”

“Okay.” Misty nods. “I’ll pretend I dropped something under there, and I’ll lift the table cloth.”

Harry grins. “Alright. Good girl.”

“God,” Misty laughs, “You’re relentless, huh?”

“What do you mean?” The way Harry’s smiling, he knows exactly what Misty means.

“You just want to get me as worked up as you possibly can, don’t you?”

“You caught me.”

Misty rolls her eyes. “God you’re annoying. Okay, I’m going. See you soon.”

“See you soon, bug.”

Misty turns once again to exit, and Harry gives her bum a quick and subtle slap, which makes her giggle.

As Harry watches her go, he tries to ignore the ache in his bones. He’s exhausted-- of course-- from exuding so much energy, but he doesn’t even care. It feels so good to feel alive again like this. To be on the arm of a pretty girl, in the midst of a bunch of young happy people with their whole lives ahead of them.

He sighs, pushing his yearning feeling far out of his head and ignoring the exhaustion in his body. He’s going to give Misty a few minutes to get settled in her seat before he joins her, and he thinks maybe he should go hide in the bathroom for a moment to give himself a bit of an energy break.

The idea is quickly shattered, however, when Angie and her date turn the corner, giggling all over one another. Angie stops dead in her tracks as soon as she sees Harry, and she grows visibly embarrassed.

“Oh! Harry! Hi!”

Harry smiles politely. “Hello Angie. This must be your lucky man.”

Angie smiles shyly up at her date. “Yeah,” she says, “this is Eric. Eric, this is Harry. He’s Misty’s date tonight.”

“Hey man!” Eric removes his arm from around Angie’s shoulders and holds it out for Harry. “Nice to meet you!”

Eric seems like a pleasant guy, a bit on the short side with big brown eyes and hair that has been perfectly gelled for this evening. Harry shakes his hand warmly, grateful for the fact that Eric hardly seems to even notice the temperature of his hands.

“Where you from, brother?” Eric asks. “Never seen you around before.”

“I’m from Misty’s hometown.” Harry nods. “Known each other for ages. It’s a sort of casual thing between us, you know?”

“Right on!” Eric grins. “Sort of casual for Ang and I too, I suppose.”

Angie’s face falls just the slightest bit for only half a second, and if Harry had blinked he’d have missed it. She smiles. “Yeah!” She adds. “Super casual.”

“How wonderful.” Harry grins. “You’re a lucky man, Eric.”

Angie blushes at Harry’s words, then gives Eric’s arm a squeeze. “Harry you’re way too nice.” She lets go of Eric’s arm, turning towards the restroom door. “I’m gonna run to the bathroom, if you guys will just excuse me for a second.”

Harry and Eric mumble their goodbyes as Angie makes her way quickly into the bathroom. Harry smiles at Eric, nodding his head as a parting gesture before turning to make his way to Misty.

“Wait, Harry.”

Eric’s voice surprises Harry, and he whirls back around. “What’s up man?”

Eric seems hesitant, opening his mouth and then closing it. He laughs, as if embarrassed of his own self, before speaking. “Man… I don’t know why I’m asking you this.”

Harry steps back towards Eric, his friendly smile never leaving his face. “You alright?”

“No I’m good! I just… maybe it’s cause I’m drunk… but I’m--” Eric sighs. “Dude, I don’t know what to do.”

“About what?”

“Angie,” Eric admits. “You know, like, I really like her and I-- I don’t know.”

“Mm.” Harry nods. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know if… if she feels the same.” Eric seems nervous, and Harry smiles reassuringly.

“Are you kidding me? Do you not see the way she looks at you?” Eric’s eyebrows furrow, as if what Harry is saying makes no sense to him, so Harry continues. “She looks at you like you hung the bloody moon, mate.”

“Seriously?”

“You know, I asked her about you earlier. ‘Course, I didn’t know who you were. But when I asked who her lucky man was, her face lit up like the sun. How long have you been an item?”

Eric smiles a dimpled smile, seemingly relaxed. “Almost two months now, I would say.”

“Why the hesitation, then? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Eric sighs. “I don’t know, man. I guess I just…I don’t want to do things wrong.”

“You want to know what I think?” Harry takes a step forward.

“Yeah. If you don’t mind.”

Harry takes in a big breath, pondering the words he’s about to say. He opens his mouth, then closes it, before taking a step towards Eric. “I think,” he begins slowly, “that life is too short.”

Eric chuckles. “Man, it really is, huh?”

Harry nods. “Way too fucking short—pardon my French- to let perfect moments pass you by.”

“Yeah?”

“Mate, if you really feel this way about her, and you know you have this beautiful connection… why wait? You know what I mean? There were--er, are-- so many moments in my life that I look back on and think, ‘god if only I hadn’t been so stupd. If only I had done this, or said that. If only, if only, if only. And I think…” Harry sighs. “I think that when it comes to telling someone how you feel about them… it’s important to be honest and vulnerable. That’s what makes you feel human.” Harry smiles, almost lost in his own thoughts.

“And feeling human,” he adds, “The good and the bad, is what life is.”

Eric doesn’t reply right away. He smiles, taking in everything that Harry is saying to him. “Shit dude,” he says, after a long while. “That’s some profound shit.”

“Nah,” Harry says, playing it off with a cheeky smile. “We’re just drunk.”

Eric laughs at this. “Maybe. But that was really good advice.”

Harry shrugs. “Just telling you what I wish someone had told me.”

“Yeah.” Eric grins. “Well thanks man. Ang and I were coming over here to like….” Eric lowers his voice, “.... do stuff, but like, I want her to know it’s more than that for me. You know?”

“I know.” The door to the women’s restroom begins opening and Harry raises his eyebrows cheekily. “Off you go then,” he tacks on quietly.

Harry turns to exit just as Angie enters, and he can’t help but feel somewhat giddy in his stomach for Eric. He hears Eric and Angie chatting softly behind him when he’a suddenly stopped by the sound of his own name.

“Harry!”

Harry turns on his heel. “Hm?”

“Thanks.”

Angie glances between Eric and Harry, a bit confused but still smiling. Harry shoots her a quick wink before raising two fingers to his eyebrow and saluting Eric loosely. Eric smiles, an unspoken confirmation between him and Harry, and Harry rounds the corner, leaving him and Angie to talk things out.

And now, there’s only one pressing matter on Harry’s mind:

Making Misty cum until she can’t think straight.

Misty’s stomach churns as she watches Harry enter the room. She is so nervous for what she knows is about to happen, and yet she’s so excited. She makes casual small talk-- of course about Harry-- with the others at her table. “Yeah he went out for a cigar and then got an important phone call from work” and “oh yeah, we met a few springs back. It’s been very casual” and “God, I know, he’s handsome, isn’t he?”

Harry’s eyes never leave Misty’s face, and he’s smirking so deeply it makes Misty’s stomach (and other parts of her) twitch. “Hiya, baby,” he says quietly, and Misty has to raise her drink to her lips to cover up the enormous smile on her face.

“You remember you have to help me out here?” Harry asks, and Misty doesn’t answer him. Instead, she subtly knocks her knife off of the table.

It doesn’t cause much of a commotion, just enough for the others at the table to glance in her direction. “Oops!” Misty says, “My bad!” She leans over, lifting the tablecloth and shooting Harry a subtle glance.

He grins. “Sneaky girl,” he mutters, before dropping to his knees and crawling under the bit of space that Misty has opened up for him.

Misty tries to cover up the rustling of the tablecloth as Harry crawls, and luckily the movement goes pretty much completely unnoticed by all of her drunken peers. Harry settles himself beneath the table, and grins at her. He presses a kiss to her knee.

“Still good with this?”

“Yes,” Misty whispers. “Are you?”

Harry scoffs, gently running his hands up her calves. “What a dumb question.”

Blood rushes to Misty’s cheeks as she drops the tablecloth and sits up straight. She offers the others at her table a forced smile, but no one seems to notice or care. She squirms, parting her legs ever so slightly.

Harry reaches for the bottom of her long dress, taking his time and really teasing her by building up anticipation as he drags the fabric up her calves. He kisses the skin he exposes as he goes, taking care to love on her knees a little extra because he knows they’re sensitive. Misty instinctively opens her legs a bit more, and Harry chuckles quietly.

“Gonna need you a bit more open than that, love.” He gently pries her knees apart, bunching up the fabric of her dress and gasping quietly at the sight before him when he realizes what he’s looking at.

“Ohhh, baby,” he breathes, “no panties?” He reaches forward with a single finger, teasing at where he knows she’s already damp. “My god, you’re a dream.”

She wiggles a bit in her seat, hoping for more friction from Harry’s finger, and Harry chuckles almost menacingly. “Squirmy little thing, aren’t you? Barely even touching you yet.”

Harry leans in, pressing another slow kiss to her knee before trailing his lips and tongue up her thigh. He drapes the skirt of her dress over his head, immediately shivering at the feeling of her warmth and wondering if she likes the sensation of his coldness.

Under the protection of her skirt, all Harry can see, hear, and smell is Misty, and he takes a moment to really soak it all in. Her scent is intoxicating, and he swears that if he were alive, he would be more than content to live out the rest of his days with his face buried between her legs.

Harry takes a big deep breath in through his nose, and exhales slowly, making a point to blow against her skin. He can feel her subtly shiver, and he grins. This is going to be easier than he thought.

For him at least.

“Now careful,” he taunts. “Gonna keep quiet for me?” He smirks, pulling away to tease her skin lightly with his finger. “That was a trick question. Know you’re going to because you don’t have a choice.”

Misty kicks lightly at Harry, and he grunts. “Ouch. Feisty thing.” He grins. “Alright, alright. I’ll stop teasing.”

And somehow, Misty doesn’t believe him.

Harry leans in, licking and kissing softly at her clit, just to get her nice and relaxed. His curls tickle at her thighs, and he hooks his arms around her legs to hold her in place. He’s hardly even started, and yet she’s already so wet. He’d be lying if he said that didn’t do wonders for his ego.

He can faintly hear the conversation going on above the table, but he does make out his name and something about missing out on dessert.

“He’ll be fine,” Misty says. “I’ll grab him a slice in a bit.”

“What a generous girl you are,” Harry mumbles, although he isn’t sure if Misty’s heard him or not. If she had heard him, though, he doesn’t give her time to react. He opens his lips wider, lapping at her clit from a new angle that makes her shiver. She squirms in her seat, lowering herself just a bit so that Harry has easier access, and he unhooks one of his arms from her legs to rub gently at her clit while he repositions himself.

Misty squirms against him, and her hands make their way under the table. Harry isn’t sure what exactly she’s doing until her skirt is lifted up from over his head, and he blinks in the dim light.

“What, baby?” he asks.

She threads her fingers through his curls, squeezing, before gently trying to push his head back down.

“Oh you want my hair?” Harry chuckles. “Cute.”

He licks gently at her clit, enjoying the way her fingers scratch a bit harshly into his scalp. He hums. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Misty jolts when Harry kisses a specific spot, and he chuckles. “Ohhh...You liked that, didn’t you?” Harry pulls back, examining the spot he just kissed. “Noted.”

Harry leans in then, attacking the same spot he’d just been lapping at, and the way Misty yanks suddenly at his curls informs him that it’s definitely a good spot. He moves his hand to grip either side of her waist.

“Misty,” Harry gulps quietly, grasping at her as if he can feel her slipping through his fingers. “Baby, please, I need—“

Misty’s fingers curl into Harry’s hair even more, tugging slightly until Harry finds himself with his forehead pressed to her thigh. He shivers, mumbling against her skin, “Need you to open up just a bit more for me, baby.” Without thinking, he presses a kiss to the fleshy spots just below her pussy as she continues to scratch affectionately at his head. “You’ve done such a good job. Been good so far. Need you open.” Harry sponges kisses along the hem of her dress.

Misty pulls Harry’s head up gently by his curls and rubs her thumb along his cheekbone before squeezing lightly at his cheeks, opening her legs more and pulling him closer to her pussy.

Harry needs only that squeeze as a starter gun, and then he’s off. His hands find their way up to her hips as he bunches up her skirt. He presses several chaste kisses to the velvet soft skin of her inner thigh, taking his time to soak in her warmth before attaching his lips to her pussy again.

He flattens his tongue along her, licking a long broad stripe just to get the wetness all soaked into his tongue before wrapping his lips around her clit. He sucks softly, flicking his tongue between his slightly parted lips to give her a heavier sensation.

Misty hums quietly, letting her nails trail along his scalp to the back of his neck. He knows she wants to moan, and it only encourages him to work harder. He removes his lips from her clit with a popping noise that startles her, and she lifts the tablecloth ever so slightly. Their eyes meet, and Harry can tell she’s already fucked. He grins.

“They couldn’t hear that,” he reminds her. “You’re the only one who has to keep quiet here.”

There’s a visible lump in Misty’s throat as she sighs, begrudgingly removing her eyes from Harry and focusing on the party occurring around her. Harry clicks his tongue.

“Ohh,” Harry coos, “poor baby. Feels so good and she can’t even moan for me, can she? Sweet girl.”

Harry pulls the tablecloth out of her hands, yanking it back down before resuming the movement of his tongue against her clit. She squirms against him, obviously growing impatient.

“You love this so much,” Harry says, “don’t you, sunshine?”

Harry doesn’t know if he’s ever in his existence had it this bad for anyone before, and somewhere deep down he knows that Misty fully cognizant of the power she holds over him. It’s exciting for the both of them really, and Harry knows that Misty does not take it lightly. Still, he loves the exhilaration of teasing her to no end-- he loves how wet it gets her and he especially loves being the only one who gets to see her like this.

Harry lets out a low-bellied grunt, and Misty sighs, an almost inaudible mumble of “oh god” passing her pretty lips. Harry removes his mouth from her clit, tilting his head to attach it instead to the sensitive skin of her inner thigh with a mumbled coo of, “Careful.” He sucks harshly, pulling until he feels her skin against his teeth and then he lets off with a pop. Misty wants to moan so badly it’s killing her, and Harry can see her toes curling in her heels. He kisses the spot he’s just bitten, where he knows a mark is already beginning to blossom.

“Feel how wet you are?” He asks. “Feel how messy you get just from a bit of teasing? Are you not embarrassed to be so wet??”

“Christ.” Misty’s voice is so low only Harry can hear it, but he smiles against her inner thigh when he does.

“How cute,” he muses, reaching out to feel the stickiness pooling between her legs. “I wonder what everyone would say if they knew how messy you get for me.” He brings his fingers to his lips, tasting the wetness against his fingertips and humming to himself. “Wonder if they can smell you.”

Harry buries his tongue directly into the center of her and shakes his head a bit, ignoring the one loose curl of his that falls into his face. He can feel Misty’s entire body tense up, and he knows she’s close. He takes his opportunity to make it a million times worse for her; with one hand he reaches up and spreads her lips further apart. With the other hand, he gently tickles at the back of her knee.

She squirms, partly from his touch against the sensitive part of her leg but mostly from the sensation of his tongue against her clit. He can see her fingers clench against her chair, and he smiles before buying his own fingers inside of her warmth. Misty all but lurches forward, and Harry is almost worried he’s given her too much too quickly. Still, he’s nothing if not a tease, so he curls his fingers gently inside of her.

He smirks, deciding that she’s had enough teasing and wanting to make her cum. He can hear her let out a quiet, breathy giggle, obviously confused at the sensations she’s feeling, overwhelmed with the desire to both laugh and moan, and when he thinks she’s had enough he pulls his fingers away from her knee.

Harry hums against her core, shaking his head. “Cum for me, sweet girl.”

Misty grips the edge of the table at the same time Harry notices her stomach clenches, and then he knows she’s cumming because her knees begin trembling. He can feel her orgasm pulsating through her, and he works her through it patiently with his tongue. He curls his fingers a bit more, and sucks a bit harsher, and for a moment he completely loses himself in his own actions.

He’s never seen Misty so wound up, and she lightly stomps her heels against the ground in frustration. He knows she feels good-- hell, he feels good, too-- and he tries his best to keep her as grounded and still as he possibly can.

It’s when she tangles her fingers in his hair to lightly tug his head away that he realizes he hasn’t stopped, and she’s completely spent.

Harry sits for a moment, staring at her soaked pussy and now slightly bruised thighs, and he admires his work. She combs her fingers lovingly through his curls, and he knows she’s thanking him for making her feel so good. It’s then, of course, that he realizes exactly how exhausted he is. He turns his head to kiss gently at her wrist, then allows himself to sit for a moment and catch his breath.

He doesn’t know how much longer he’s going to last like this. He’s never used this much energy in manifesting before, and he didn’t expect it to be this hard. But Misty is having a wonderful time, and of course so is he— he doesn’t want the night to end by any means, but god, is he ready to lay down.

Harry musters up all the strength he can manage and taps Misty’s knee. “Can you let me out, sweet girl?”

It takes Misty a moment before she lifts the tablecloth, pretending to mess with her heels. She gives Harry the softest smile the moment their eyes meet, and she looks completely wrecked in a way that only he would recognize. He chuckles.

“Got you that good, did I?” He begins crawling out from under the table, trying his best to cover how exhausted he is. As he passes Misty he presses a chaste kiss to her nose, making her giggle. “I’ll be back.”

He rises, weakly, to his feet-- and he hopes Misty doesn’t notice how slowly he moves, but she does, and she frowns. He brushes it off, refusing to make it into a big deal, and then disappears from sight.

Misty is left, trying to cover up the fact that she’s struggling to catch her breath-- and she smiles the moment she sees Harry physically enter the room.

He’s grinning- because of course he is— and his finger guns in Josh’s direction do not go unnoticed by Misty. She rolls her eyes as he approaches the table, smiling brightly at everyone in the small circle.

“Sorry,” he says convincingly, “my mum called.”

Misty smiles up at him. “Oh that’s okay, my love! Everything okay?”

Harry grins at her, reaching over to take her hand in his own. “Everything is absolutely fine. Couldn’t be better, in fact.”

Misty grins, obviously flustered just by the way he’s looking at her. “Yeah?”

He leans forward, kissing her nose lightly. “Yeah.”

Harry turns to everyone at the table, smiling that charming smile that Misty is so obsessed with. “Now,” he says, “Am I too late to get a slice of this cheesecake?”

----

Harry drops, completely spent, onto Misty’s bed. As soon as she closes the door behind her she rushes to him, immediately undoing the laces on his left shoe.

He’s paler now, his skin looking thin and white, and he smiles sleepily down at her as she gets to work tugging his shoe off. She seems worried, but he only chuckles.

“Had so much fun with you,” he says, voice weak. “Did you have fun?”

“Harry, you shouldn’t have put so much energy forward.”

“Wanted to,” he says. “Worth it.”

“Harry,” Misty coos, tugging the shoe off of his foot before working on the other. “My god, look at you.”

“Just sleepy,” Harry says. “I’ll be completely back to normal tomorrow. Promise.”

Misty is unconvinced; she frowns as she tugs off his other shoe before sitting fully on the bed, crawling up the length of his body.

“I’m gonna undress you,” she says. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” he sighs, “‘Course it’s okay.”

Misty begins by unbuttoning his suit jacket, then the buttons of his shirt. Harry watches her the entire time, reveling in her warmth. “Feels nice to be taken care of like this. Wish you didn’t have to.”

“Harry, it’s the least I can do. You’ve done so much for me. You shouldn’t have come out tonight. You should have…” She notices the way he’s watching her, and it catches her off guard. “What?”

Harry grunts, trying weakly to prop himsef up on his elbows. “Do you realize,’ he says, voice frail, “that this is the most fun I’ve had in years? That getting to feel alive, with the most beautiful girl I’ve ever known, is worth any pain I might be in now?” He catches Misty’s worried frown, and quickly tacks on, “But I’m not in pain. Just sleepy.”

Misty sighs. “I can’t help but feel like it’s my fault.”

“Awfully selfish of you,” Harry teases. “Not everything is about you, you know.”

Misty rolls her eyes, using all of her strength to sit Harry up and remove his jacket. Harry chuckles, a weak laugh that trails off into a cough. “I promise,” he says, as she settles him back down. “I’m okay. I’m just sleepy. It’s not like I’m dying.”

He watches her expectantly, waiting for a reaction and obviously proud of his stupid joke.

Misty shoots him a deadpanned glare that makes him cackle. “Come onnn,” he says, “that was a good one!”

“How can you still be so annoying when you’re so exhausted?” Misty says, chuckling as she works to unbutton his shirt.

Harry doesn’t answer her, propping an arm up behind his head and watching her work. She allows her eyes to trail down his body as she reaches the bottom button, pausing at a small patch of hair she notices leading from his bellybutton down into his trousers. Her breath hitches in her throat as she comes to the realization that she’s never seen him beneath his clothes.

Harry seems to realize this at the same time, and his smile fades just a hair. “What, baby?”

Misty doesn’t answer him. Instead she slowly pulls the two sides of his shirt apart further, exposing his entire torso. She lets out her breath slowly, surprised at how completely normal he looks. She reaches a hand forward but stops herself, unsure if she should actually touch him.

“You know I used to have a tattoo there,” Harry offers.

Misty’s eyes flicker from his tummy to his face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I had a ton actually. But I guess when you die, they don’t come with you.”

“What were they?”

Harry trills his lips. “God I had so many I don’t even remember all of them. There was a butterfly right here--” he points to the direct center of his stomach, --”some swallows here--” his collarbones, “and…” Harry smirks, pointing to his hip bones. “Some ferns here.”

“God.” Misty continues to scan at his body, eyes landing on a soft purple mark on his ribs.

Harry knows immediately what Misty sees, and he smiles softly at her, taking her hand in his as his face takes on a far more serious expression. “Where I landed,” he explains. “When I—“

“Oh my god...” Misty is torn between wanting to touch the scar and wanting to leave it be, and Harry seems to be completely sympathetic to that because he only chuckles.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” He asks. “Took me a while to get used to.”

“I didn’t…” Misty trails off, confused as to how she should even word her question. “I mean, I didn’t think—“

“I know,” Harry says. “It’s weird. I mean how could you ever even know what to expect to see on a ghosts body? How could you expect, like… a sign of death on another body.”

“I just—“ Misty genuinely doesn’t know what to say, and she’s so thankful that Harry doesn’t pressure her at all.

“I know,” he repeats. “It’s weird.”

“Can I…” Misty’s voice is hardly above a whisper when she speaks. “Can I touch it?”

Harry smiles softly. “If you’d like.”

“I--” Misty trails off, unsure of what exactly it is that she’d like to say. She reaches forward with a timid hand, almost pulling her hand completely back before touching the gentle purple mark. It’s not raised-- she doesn’t know why she was expecting it to be-- but it’s colder than the entire rest of his body. She gasps without even realizing what she’s doing. Harry flinches slightly at her touch, but he doesn’t move.

He allows Misty to run a loving finger over his scar, taking in exactly what it is she’s looking at, before he speaks. “Are you alright?”

“What?” It takes Misty a moment to realize what he means, and she tears her eyes from the scar immediately. “Oh god, yeah, sorry. I’m okay, I just--”

“It’s weird,” Harry says for what feels like the ninetieth time. “I know.”

Misty sighs, hesitating a bit, as if she wants to say something more. She scans his body again, glancing up at his eyes sadly, before slowly moving forward.

She moves as if in slow motion, and Harry watches her with baited breath. She squirms a bit, angling her body a certain way, and lowering her face towards his torso. Harry realizes with sadness what she’s doing, and pressure builds behind his eyes when she lowers her lips to the purple scar. She presses the most velvet soft kiss Harry thinks he’s ever felt into his flesh, and his eyes cloud with mist.

Misty trails her lips from his ribs up to his collarbone. There is nothing but love in her movements, and Harry tries to swallow down a lump in his throat. His breath is shaky as he looks down at her, loving on his body.

She seems lost in her movements, kissing all over his torso as her lashes flutter slowly. She lowers her lips to his stomach, and he can’t stop the single tear that slips from his left eye.

He hasn’t been loved on like this in years, and he’d almost forgotten what it felt like.

There is no sexual intention behind her kisses, and her low breath from her nose tickles gently just above his belly button. Harry reaches up to dab at his eye, trying to prevent another tear from escaping. “Misty,” he says, voice cracking the slightest bit. “Darling--”

“Harry,” she says softly against the skin of his tummy. She lifts her head, looking into his eyes and giving him a sympathetic smile. She reaches up to wipe at his cheek with her thumb, and she doesn’t move her hand away when she’s done. She sighs. “You are so, so beautiful.”

“Misty,” he says. “I don’t--” He trails off when she pecks at his collarbone, trailing warm, wet kisses up his neck. She noses at his cheek when her lips hit his chin, and then she’s kissing his lips. It’s all so gentle, so ridiculously intimate and sweet, and Harry doesn’t even realize he’s still crying when two more tears roll down his cheek.

“My sweet boy,” she says, pulling away to wipe gently at his cheeks. “My god.”

“It’s not fair,” Harry whispers. “It’s not fair.”

“I know,” she says, continuing to run her thumbs over his cheeks. “I know, baby. But it is what it is. And Harry…” She smiles softly. “We can’t let it hang over the time we have left like a raincloud. Hm? Remember that?”

Harry laughs in spite of himself, knowing that she’s repeating his own words. “I know,” he says. He reaches up weakly to cup her face as well. “I just want to be able to love you the way you deserve. Fully. Without fear.”

Misty’s heart freezes the minute she hears Harry speak the word “love” but she doesn’t react. Instead, she leans in, kissing his jaw. “Harry,” she says slowly. “I know it’s not ideal. But you have given me the best month of my entire life. I’ll never be able to thank you enough.”

“Don’t,” Harry says, “Don’t say that. You don’t need to thank me. Misty I--”

“Shhh.” Misty rubs her thumb along his bottom lip. “I know.” She smiles now, trying her best to hold back her own tears. “I’m so… so thankful for you. My beautiful boy. We will meet again, okay? I promise you.”

Harry swallows thickly. “I know we will. I’m coming back the moment I can.”

“See?” she says, smiling. “And next time will be even better. But you know what?” she sniffs, feeling herself slip further into sadness and begging herself not to cry. “We’ve still got a few more days, yeah?”

“We do, yeah.” Harry chuckles, reaching up to wipe at his eyes. “God, I’m a sap aren’t I? I didn’t think this was going to hit me so hard.”

“It’s good, my love! Sometimes it’s okay to let your emotions out like this. You’ve done so much for me. Let me love on you a little bit for a change.”

“You love on me constantly!”

“No,” Misty says. “Not enough.” She kisses him again before sitting up. “Let me get changed. We’ll go to sleep. We both need it.”

Harry watches her rise to her feet, and he reaches up to wipe at his damp face. “You’re too good to me, sunshine.”

“Yeah, yeah. You can thank me later.”

Harry snorts and Misty throws him a joking glance over her shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”

Misty disappears into the hallway, making her way to the bathroom to wash her face, brush her teeth, and put on a t-shirt. She allows herself a few tears, crying quietly to herself for only a minute because god, it hurts so bad. It hurts feeling something so deep for somebody who isn’t even alive; for someone who she knows she’s going to have to spend 90% of the next year without.

As soon as she allows herself that moment of weakness, however, she forces it to pass. Wiping her tears away, she continues with her bedtime routine, making sure she doesn’t look like she’s been crying before making her way back into her bedroom.

When she gets there, Harry is fast asleep on top of her bed-- still in a state of various undress. She recalls him telling her that ghosts don’t sleep, not exactly, but he looks so peaceful-- wherever he is right now.

Misty works to gently undress him the rest of the way as he blinks sleepily, hardly even responding to her at all. And when he’s in only a pair of boxers, Misty crawls into bed beside him after turning off the light.

She rolls onto her side, watching him as he sleeps-- or, whatever it is ghosts do. He looks so beautiful, and she reaches forward to gently stroke at the scar on his ribs again. She loves him, she thinks. Even though she’s only known him for a short amount of time, she loves him. And there’s an ache in such a weirdly specific part of her heart that she can’t even begin to put into words.

Pressing the gentlest kiss to Harry’s temple, she cuddles into his side, and he subconsciously wraps an arm lazily around her. Misty wills herself not to cry-- not to think about the situation at all-- as she drifts gently to sleep.

-----

It’s a somber day. Colder than usual. Misty sits with her feet dangling over the side of her bed, and Harry stands off in the corner of her room, nervously fidgeting with some of the trinkets on her shelf.

They know it’s coming. They’ve known it was coming for the last few days, but they’ve both been avoiding the subject, pretending that if they just ignore it, it will go away.

But it won’t go away. And Harry has to leave.

Harry glances out the window. It’s gray outside, matching the atmosphere in the room. The trees blow angrily outside Misty’s window, and Harry swears he can feel the wind in his body.

“Looks like it’s going to rain,” he remarks casually.

Misty doesn’t reply, and he turns around to see her just staring sadly at him. She isn’t crying, not yet anyway, but her eyes look damp.

“Are you sure you can’t stay?” Her voice is quiet, like she doesn’t want to be asking the question, and she won’t even look directly at him. It makes his heart-- however dead it is-- feel like its shattering, and he takes a step towards her.

He brushes her hair behind her ear. “You know I wish I could,” he says, equally as quiet.

“And what would happen if you just… didn’t?”

“Didn’t what?”

“I don’t know. Didn’t… go?”

Harry smiles sadly. “It doesn’t work like that. I don’t have a choice.”

Misty opens her mouth, then closes it again. Her breath hitches in her throat before she lets it all out in a sigh. “What’s it like?” She’s speaking in a whisper.

“What is what like?” Harry matches her tone.

“When you… go, I mean. The process. Do you just like, fall asleep? Or is it like you just blink and you’re in the void?”

Despite the heaviness of their conversation, Harry chuckles. “Somewhere in between, I suppose.”

“Does it hurt?” She gulps subconsciously, and she looks so curious and cute right now Harry could scream.

He shakes his head. “No. Doesn’t feel like anything.”

“So one minute you’re here and the next you’re just…” She trails off, and Harry sighs.

“Gone,” he finishes somberly. “Yes.”

After a beat, Misty chuckles bitterly. “Seems a bit unfair.”

“I’ll be back the first moment I can be,” Harry says, then adds with a smile, “If you’ll have me.”

“Of course I will,” she says, finally turning to face him fully. She takes his cold hands in her own, and her warmth makes him shiver. “I’ll wait for you every single day.”

“Don’t say that,” Harry says, shaking his head and sitting beside her on the bed. “You have a life to live. I don’t.”

Misty’s eyes grow damp, but she blinks back the tears just as quickly as they arrived. “But I’m going to miss you so much,” she says through a shaky voice.

It all seems silly, really, for Harry and Misty both. But neither of them can help it. This connection they’ve formed in such a short amount of time weighs heavily on both of their hearts. And Harry is certain that he would do just about anything in the universe to get another chance at life, if only to be with her.

“I’m going to miss you so much it’s going to hurt me every second,” Harry says, not a trace of humor in his voice despite the slight exaggeration.

Misty lets out her breath in a loud, shaky sigh. She rests her head on Harry’s shoulder, and for a while they just sit there like this, him and her, pretending with all their might-- if only for a few minutes-- that this is just another day for them. That Harry is human, and that they can grow old together.

“I have a selfish request,” Misty says after a while.

“Anything.”

Misty takes a deep breath. “Will you come visit me? In my dreams?”

“You already know that’s my plan.”

“Every dream?”

Harry chuckles. “Well, that’s a bit of a tall order. I don’t know if I’ll be able to come every night. But, as often as I can, and as often as you’ll have me, I will come.”

“Promise?”

Harry turns to kiss Misty’s forehead. “I promise.”

Misty closes her eyes and leans gently into Harry’s kiss, breathing in the scent of cinnamon that she’s grown to love so much. “So when does it happen?” she asks, almost hesitantly. “When do you… go?”

“I don’t know the exact moment,” Harry admits. “Whenever the sun enters Sagittarius. Whatever that exact time is.”

“Is there gonna be a Sagittarius Season ghost?” Misty asks. “Ghost of Sagittarians past?”

Harry laughs. “I don’t think so, no. But if there is, don’t go fallin’ in love with him now. Sagittarians are nothin’ but trouble.”

“Don’t think I ever could,” Misty says, a bittersweet ache in her voice. “Think I’ll only ever have feelings for you.”

Harry sighs, patting gently at Misty’s knee. He savors her scent and her warmth for a few beats before he changes the subject. “Your sisters will be glad to have you around again,” he says. “I know I’ve been hoggin’ ya. They must think you’re really goin’ through something, the way you’re keeping to yourself.”

“They wouldn’t understand even if I did try to explain it to them,” Misty replies.

Harry nods sympathetically. “And you’re gonna have a hard time explaining to them what happened to your mysterious long distance boyfriend from back home.”

“Oh shit,” Misty says, worry suddenly showing on her face. “What am I gonna tell them when they ask?”

“Tell them he died.” The look on Harry’s face is so smug, and Misty can tell that he’d been holding onto that one for a while. She rolls her eyes, but doesn’t even try to refrain from smiling.

“Oh my god, Harry.”

“It’s not wrong!”

“That’s not funny!” The smile on Misty’s face tells Harry otherwise, and he nudges her shoulder with his own.

“Alright alright.” Harry smiles, reaching forward to interlace their fingers. There’s a moment of drab silence, and Harry sighs thickly before finally admitting weakness. “God, I’m going to miss you.”

Misty’s smile softens, but it doesn’t completely fade. She turns her head, pressing the softest kiss to Harry’s shoulder. “I’m going to miss you more than you know.”

There’s a comfortable silence that falls between the two of them, and Harry interlaces his fingers with hers. “Maybe you’ll meet a boy to take you to next year's homecoming,” he muses.

Misty frowns. “That’s not funny either.”

“Not trying to be funny! Trying to encourage you to live your life, darling. I wish I could still live mine.”

“You can live in my dreams. Rent free.”

With a snort, Harry stands up. “Oh I intend to. As much as possible.”

“Well good.”

Harry walks over to Misty’s window again, watching the trees blow in the wind for a few quiet moments. After a bit, he speaks again. “I have an idea.”

“Hm?”

“Let’s have fun tonight. Let’s watch a movie. I’ll manifest in front of everyone and we can end on a high note. Instead of being sad.”

Misty considers his words for a moment. “But I want you to myself.”

Harry grins. “So they won’t question it when we excuse ourselves early, will they?”

Misty rolls her eyes. “Well, when you put it that way--”

Harry laughs. “No one even has to join in with us if they don’t want to. But I figure my last night here shouldn’t be spent so upset.”

“Yeah,” Misty agrees. “But I’m still gonna be sad.”

“Don’t you want to remember me having fun? That’s how I want you to remember me, at least.”

“Yeah but--”

“No buts!” Harry holds his hand out to her. “Come on then. You get to pick the movie.”

The evening progresses unbearably fast, and it isn’t long before Misty finds herself curled up into Harry’s side on the couch, watching him giggle alongside all her sorority sisters and their various partners. She hopes he doesn’t notice her staring at him, but she can’t help it of course. He is so lovely, so full of some type of light that she has never seen before and cannot seem to get enough of.

As Misty watches him, she realizes how heartbreakingly human he really is. He may be a ghost, but he died a young college boy— with so much ahead of him and so much to look forward to. Never in Misty’s life has she seen a more genuine smile, nor has she ever met anyone as charismatic as Harry. Try as she might to forget it, she knows her time with him is coming to an end and she hates it. But watching him interact with everyone around him, as charming as ever, she realizes that he genuinely needed this. He needed to feel alive, to feel apart of something once again.

So Misty leans closer into him. He smiles down at her, looking so full of life and warmth. He reaches down, pulling the fuzzy red blanket covering both him and Misty up over her shoulders. “You alright?” He asks softly.

Misty tilts her head, leaning up to press a peck to his nose. “I’m wonderful,” she replies quietly.

Harry grins down at her, and for a moment the two are lost in their own little world— looking into one another’s eyes as if the entire universe existed in them. As if reading her mind, Harry gives Misty’s lips a soft kiss. The kiss is tinged with sadness, of course, because the darker it gets outside the less time they know that they have together. So he pulls away, bumping her nose with his.

“You sleepy?” He asks quietly.

And Misty knows exactly what he means. “Mhm.”

“Mm,” Harry hums. “Me too.”

He moves to rise to his feet to make a graceful exit with Misty. “Well,” he says, addressing the room. “Misty and I are going to go up to sleep now. I have to head back home pretty early tomorrow and—“

“You’re going to fuck,” Kennedy says, matter-of-factly. Misty and Harry both gape at her, and she laughs. “It’s alright! No shame in that. We’re all adults here.”

Misty laughs nervously, and Harry remains calm and smug. “You’re hilarious, Kennedy. I think I’ll miss you most of all.”

Kennedy laughs, winking and pointing finger guns at Harry. Misty rolls her eyes, but she’s giggling as she turns to exit. Harry follows close behind her and Kennedy calls out, “Be safe! Use protection!”

Harry and Misty giggle the entire trip up the stairs, and as they approach Misty’s bedroom, she speaks quietly. “Okay, but how are you feeling? Like, energy wise.”

“Fine,” Harry says, and he honestly means it.

Misty glances at him like she doesn’t believe him, and he snorts. “I promise, Misty. I mean it. I didn’t use that much tonight.”

She rolls her eyes, making her way over to her bed and sitting on the edge of it. Harry closes the door behind him, still buzzing from the fun he’s had today, and a playful smile spreads across his face. He turns slowly on his heels, eyeing her mischievously.

She looks back, tensing up a bit as a smile spreads across her face. “What…”

Harry growls playfully, bounding over to her and tackling her onto the bed before she can even say anything. She squeals, giggling as she and Harry come tumbling down. Harry attacks her face and her neck in kisses while squeezing at her hips, and she squeals.

“No!” She shrieks. “What are you doing?! NO!”

He growls, nipping at her cheeks before lifting his head and grinning down at her. “Gimme kiss.”

“If I do, will you chill?” She giggles.

Harry makes a face, pretending to consider her words. “Mm… maybe.”

She lifts her head slightly, pecking at his lips, and he shakes his head. “Better than that,” he says.

She kisses him again, but he only repeats, “Better than that.”

Misty lets her head fall back again, mouth falling open as the most lovely laughs bubble out of her lips. Harry seizes this opportunity, leaning down and kissing her open mouth with a dimpled grin.

Misty’s giggles die down the minute their lips interlock, but the smile never leaves neither her nor Harry’s faces as they kiss. Misty licks gently into Harry’s mouth, and he immediately grants her access, swirling his tongue against hers. He speaks between kisses. “You’re--” kiss, “so--” kiss, “beautiful.”

Misty rolls her eyes. “No you are,” she says, and Harry kisses her before she’s even finished her sentence.

He chuckles. “No you.”

“Nooo…” She pecks at his nose. “You.”

Harry snorts. “God we’re disgusting, huh?”

Misty hums, reaching up to brush a stray curl away from Harry’s face. “Yeah. Ew.”

He leans down, burying his face in her neck and sucking softly. He feels her melt against him, squirming a bit as she lets out a long, humming sigh. He smiles, lifting his head to press another kiss to her lips before speaking. “I have an idea,” he says.

“Another one? Do tell.”

“How about……” Harry sing-songs, “One more orgasm for you. As a parting treat.”

“Hmm…” Misty muses. “Only one?”

Harry snorts. “Or two. Or… however many you want.”

“How many do you want to give me?” Misty scratches lovingly behind Harry’s ear.

“Oh sunshine,’ Harry says, “If I had my way I would never stop.”

Blood rushes to Misty’s cheeks and ears, but she tries to hide it. Harry only laughs again, thumbing at her cheek. “Gonna miss that.”

“What?”

“How easy it is to get you hot.”

Misty rolls her eyes, but she laughs. “You’re an idiot.”

“Gonna miss that, too. Love when you insult me.”

“Oh my god.” Misty shakes her head. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

Harry hums. “With pleasure, sweet girl.”

They continue kissing for a bit as Harry undresses Misty gently. He loves on every inch of her body, reveling in every single reaction he gets out of her. He tries to remember every detail that he can, and everything about the evening they’re sharing. And when he makes her cum, four separate times, he savours her taste, her smell, and the noises she makes as best as he can-- without making himself even sadder than he is. He knows she feels the same, noticing the way she continuously glances at him with more love in his eyes than he’s seen in a long time.

After hours of messing around with her, loving on one another’s bodies and sharing giggles and playful kisses, they realize it’s time to go to bed. They undress one another, and Harry helps her remove her makeup-- which makes them both laugh the entire time.

When they find themselves in bed together, stroking lovingly at one another’s faces, they realize that they can’t run from the inevitable anymore. Their time together has been reduced to only hours, and there is nothing they can do about it at all.

“I’m going to miss you,” Misty says, tracing his features in the darkness. “Have I told you that already?”

Harry laughs softly. “Maybe once or twice,” he admits. “But I’m going to miss you more.”

Misty sighs, kissing his lips gently. “Promise to come visit my dreams as much as you possibly can?”

Harry leans into her touch, tilting his head to kiss the palm of her hand. “I promise.”

“I don’t want to fall asleep.” She looks on the verge of tears, and Harry wishes there was something he could do to stop her. At this point, however, he knows it’s inevitable. So he tries to make her smile.

“You need to,” he says. “Humans need sleep.”

“Maybe,” she says. “But I need you more.”

“That’s not true, baby. You know it’s not.” Harry strokes a spot just in front of her temple-- a spot he’s noticed over the past month that relaxes her more than anything else. As if on cue, she yawns.

“Listen to me. You are meant to live your life, sweet girl. You are meant to be happy, and grow old. Promise me you will.” She frowns at him, but he doesn’t allow it. “Promise me, baby.”

“I promise,” she whispers. Harry smiles.

“Say it like you mean it.”

“I promise Harry,” she whispers, blinking against the sleep in her eyes. “But I also promise that when you return, I will be waiting.”

“That’s fine. You can wait. But do not let it stop you from living. You hear me? Please don’t. I would give anything to live my life again.”

Misty yawns again, finally giving in to the heaviness of her eyelids and closing her eyes. She leans into him. “I promise. I’ll live every day in your honor, Harry.”

“Yeah?”

She smiles sleepily, still not opening her eyes.

Harry watches her, taking in every last detail of her sleepy face. He can feel himself fading, but she doesn’t seem to notice, so he says nothing. He ignores the pressure building behind his eyes, swearing to himself that he’s not going to cry.

Misty is also fading fast, succumbing more and more to sleep by the second. Harry knows it’s going to be a hard year without her, but he takes comfort knowing she is surrounded by people who love her.

And it also doesn’t hurt that he plans on haunting Josh’s dreams so that he leaves Misty the fuck alone.

He smiles softly, completely unable to stop the tear from leaking from his eye. He’s grateful that Misty’s eyes are closed, and he presses the slowest, most gentle kiss to her forehead.

“I love you, miss Misty.”

Without opening her eyes, Misty speaks with a distant, sleepy voice. “I love you too, Harry.”

Harry replays that moment in his head for the next few hours, reveling in the way those words sounded coming out of her mouth.

And when Misty wakes in the morning, Harry is gone.

#Harry Styles #Harry #Harry Styles fanfiction #Harry fanfiction #fanfiction #Harry Styles AU #Harry AU #Harry Styles smut #Harry smut #smut #Harry Styles fluff #Harry fluff #fluff

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bakapandy · 3 years

Note

Hi! First off I love your art thank you for always feeding us such good food 😌🙏

Aaaanyways, I was wondering what your take was on the idea that Gaara also adopted Yodo and Araya?

I remember this being a great debate bc of the official translation having Shinki say “Our father” but if I’m not mistaken....it was a bit of a mistranslation?

Disclaimer: I’m not a native Japanese speaker and my grasp of the language is rudimentary at best however, I can see that in the original Japanese, there is no possessive determiner when Shinki says “To not tarnish Father’s name,” in the first bubble. The second bubble says pretty much the same as the translation. Basically, Shinki does not really say “Our Father” or “My Father”, he just says “Father”, which can make it vague, and I suppose in the context of the second bubble, it can make sense why the translator might have added the “our”. But, I don’t think it was originally intended for anyone else other than Shinki to be adopted. Yet again, Shinki has not shown up in the manga since the Otsutsuki arc, and even then, only he has ever referred to Gaara as “Father” so who knows lmao (admittedly, Yodo and Araya have like maybe 2 sentences combined in the manga lmao)

HOWEVER, the anime has clearly shown that only Shinki is Gaara’s adopted son, and Yodo and Araya are not. During the Chunin exam arc:

1. Temari says Gaara adopted a son, she did not mention any other children

2. Only Shinki has ever been referred to as his adopted son. You’d think it was the three of them, they’d make a point of mentioning it

3. Only Shinki calls Gaara “Father (Chichi-ue)”

Furthermore, during the Shukaku arc, only Shinki calls Gaara “Father” while Yodo and Araya call him “Lord Kazekage (Kazekage-sama)”. Shinki also uses “Uncle (Oji-ue)” and “Aunt (Oba-ue)” for Kankurou and Temari whereas Yodo called Temari “Lady Temari (Temari-sama)” during the Chunin exam arc vs Shikadai. So, since honorifics are so critical in the Japanese language for determining relationships, it can be pretty clear that the only one who was adopted into the family was Shinki. The anime is considered canon as its development is vetted to not interfere with the character development and world-building of the manga’s main storyline since they’ll eventually converge.

Now that we’ve gotten all the objective info out the way, my opinion/take/thoughts whatever: I prefer only Shinki being adopted and Yodo and Araya as just his teammates and close friends. I really enjoy exploring their relationships in that context and it also separates them from the whole “Sand Siblings” paradigm Gaara, Kankurou, and Temari had set up in the original series, otherwise, they really would just be a copycat.

#shinki #araya #yodo #sand siblings #boruto #boruto naruto next generation #boruto next generation #haruka4676 #ask pandy

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bangtanloverboys · 3 years

Text

kitten fever // myg

summary - min yoongi wants to be a daddy, but not in the way that you quite expect

pairing - cat hybrid!yoongi x gender neutral!reader

genre - fluff; hybrid au, established relationship au

word count - 7.5k

warning - yoongi being an absolute softie, hinted hybrid discrimination, YOONGI WITH A KITTY, yoongi and yn being domestic, KITTENS, overwhelming love for kittens, yoongi calling himself daddy

author’s note - this is for the bts ghostie dynamite dads event “new dad yoongi”, but make it new cat dad. i snuggled my kitties a lot writing this bc i love them and they are my inspiration for this. anything cat related on my blog is inspired by my own cats, enjoy. i may post a baby photo of one of them bc that’s how i imagine the kitty in this

2:54 am read the small digital clock in the corner of the room. Yoongi couldn’t sleep. He turned his head over to you, still curled up into his side. Pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, he gently peeled your arm off of him and got out of bed. You let out a soft whine at the loss of his warmth, patting the empty space in a sleepy attempt to find him. He shook his head and chuckled at you, placing another kiss to your head and made his way over to the desk. Seating himself in the wheelie chair, he opened the laptop and typed away into the search bar.

‘Newborn Kittens’.

He honestly wasn’t sure what was going through his head, but he was feeling something deep down inside. The feeling started sometime a little after you had adopted him and it had only grown stronger when the two of you had gotten together. Originally he thought that was the feeling, the need to be with you. You were his mate and you were it for him; he loved you with every little fiber in his being. But there was still something missing in Yoongi’s heart, and that is what it was.

He really wanted to be a dad.

Not for like human babies though, no. He didn’t think that either of you were ready for that yet, not for a while. But he really wanted to care and love for something as his own, which has slowly led him down the rabbit hole of kitten videos. Volume set to low, he played videos and listened to the small innocent newborns cry and whine at the new world they were in. The cries resonated deep in Yoongi’s heart. He wanted to care for, guide, and love on a kitten so badly. The only thing is he had to convince you about it.

After about an hour of him watching and holding back tears over the newborns, he let out a yawn. He exited the tab and cleared the browsing history, an extra precaution he’d taken to make sure you accidentally stumble across it. He didn’t know why he was so nervous about asking you, maybe it’s cause you never talked about having another pet or an actual animal? He vaguely remembered you mentioning the reason you got a hybrid in the first place. You wanted someone to talk to and to keep you in check, which Yoongi thought he did a pretty good job of. You were a bit of an idiot sometimes, but you were his idiot now. His idiot that he had no idea how to tell he wanted to have a baby kitten.

He quietly tiptoed back over to the bed and carefully slotted himself to lay next to you, once again. You sleepily register the bed dipping next to you, turning over and wrapping your arms back around him; holding him even tighter so he can’t leave you again. He let out a low chuckle at your action, letting you mold yourself against him. With another kiss to the top of your head, Yoongi let his eyes slowly fall shut. Dreaming of the kittens he wanted so badly.

You woke up earlier than Yoongi the following morning, which was strange, seeing how normally he’s the first to rise. As of lately though, he’s been sleeping in more. You didn’t mind, the past few times he slept in, he had the warmest smile on his face. It was so blissful and it always pulled at your heartstrings to see him look so soft. But whenever he woke up, he acted distant. Like he was holding his breath around you. You don’t know what led him to start acting like this, you tried talking to him about it, you really did. Everytime you brought it up, he acted like it was nothing and dismissed the issue or said he was in a funk. So you’ve taken a back seat, waiting for him to either truly tell you what’s going on or for him to pull himself out of his self-proclaimed funk. With a small sigh passing your lips, you kissed his cheek and gave one of his little ears a scratch, you pulled yourself out of bed to get started on your morning routine.

With a yawn, you padded down the hallway of your small apartment towards the kitchen. Glancing at the calendar pinned to the fridge, you let out a low groan. Today, you had a lot of paperwork that you could thankfully do at home, but that didn’t help the fact you just wanted a lazy day to cuddle with your boyfriend. But you have work to do, then you can cuddle Yoongi to your heart's content. Quickly, you fashioned a breakfast milkshake; consisting of your last banana, an egg, milk, and some chocolate sauce. The roar of the blender must’ve woken up Yoongi, as soon as you turned it off, you heard his heavy footsteps get closer and closer. You don’t turn to look behind you as two arms and a tail wrap around your waist.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” You smiled as he buried his head into your neck.

“Morning,” he grumbled, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

You stop from finishing your shake to lean into him, nuzzling your cheek against his messy dark hair. “You sleep alright? I thought I felt you get up in the middle of the night.”

“I’m good, just. . . had trouble sleeping last night,” You felt him shift behind you, readjusting himself so his chin is now resting on your shoulder, watching you finish making your shake, “decided to have a wikipedia deep dive to try and bore myself to sleep.”

“Aw, I’m glad you were able to get some sleep though.” You said as you pulled out a metal straw from your utensil drawer into your finished banana-chocolate milkshake. However, Yoongi doesn’t loosen his grip on you. Carefully, you manage to twist yourself around in his arms to look at him. His face is still puffy from sleep, his eyes are blinking lazily as you give him a chaste kiss. “Sleepy kitty.” Upon saying that phrase, you felt Yoongi’s arms stiffen around you. It was only for a moment, then he relaxed and nuzzled his nose to brush against your cheek before letting his arms slip from around you. You don’t let the way Yoongi tensed up at your words, but elect not to bring it up. It’s too early.

“What do you have planned for today?” Yoongi asked, stifling a yawn as he went to make himself some coffee.

“Just paperwork,” you huffed as you siphoned through the utensils to find your precious metal straw. “You got anything? Besides taking a cat nap.” You smiled as you took a sip of your shake.

Yoongi shook his head as he concentrated on his coffee making task, “I got nothing.”

“Maybe when I’m done, we can watch a movie?” You suggested, as you leaned against the countertop.

“Mm, sounds good.” He responded as he mixed in his coffee creamer. Satisfied with his stirring, he turned back to face you. “There’s a few things I’ve found that I think you might like”, he said as he brought the mug to his lips.

The small conversation fell and the two of you got started on your routines. You handed Yoongi your glass for him to clean then went to your bathroom to start the day. You couldn’t get over how he froze around you at the little nickname you bestowed on him. Sleepy kitty. Did he not like that? He never had any objections to your pet names previous to this. You couldn’t just chalk it up to it being one of his ‘moods’ because this was a constant thing now. You needed to talk to him, maybe before the movie.

Yoongi on the other hand, felt like banging his head into a wall. How could he be so stupid to have such a blatant reaction to the pet name?! He supposes it has everything to do with the dream he had after he had finally fallen asleep after an hour long cat video binge at such an ungodly hour. He had dreamt of a small tabby kitten, probably no more than 4 weeks old. It was snuggling into his shoulder while he slept, swiping at his tail while he sat and worked, nibbling on his ears- God even just reminiscing about the dream had his heart aching again.

Shaking his head, tried to push past the consuming thoughts of kittens, refusing to give into his instincts. He focused all his energy into cleaning the dishes; totally not imagining the small cup he was washing as a small kitten, scrubbing it delicately and making sure not to go too hard on it’s small fragile head-

Yoongi dropped the cup in the sink, the plastic banging against the other dishes ringing in his ears as he held his head. He was going to lose it, he knows it. To his concern there’s only one solution to this issue: get a kitten and take care of it. Digging the heels of his palm into his eyes, he let out a deep sigh. There was no other choice he had, he had to talk to you about his kitten fever.

Finishing up the last of what was in the sink, he dried off his hands and made his way back over to the room. You had already gotten to work, judging by how you barely acknowledged him as he walked in. Walking over to the bed, Yoongi stretched himself over the messed up covers. This was how the two of you did spend most of your days when you were allowed to work from home; with him laying down and watching you work. Resting his cheek on his folded arms, Yoongi kept his eyes on you. Trying his damndest not to let his mind wander from you and to imagining you working with a small kitten on your lap. Your hand caressing its small body while it meows loudly at you as you play with it- He let out a groan, burying his face in his arms to try and escape the mental image he created.

Hearing him, you turn in your chair to face him, “Yoongi, are you okay?”

Peeking from behind his elbows, concern is written all over your face. He shut his eyes and sat up, “Y/N. . . Can I talk to you?” Your brows furrowed together, a look of panic dashes through your eyes as you nod. Taking a deep breath, he stood up from where he sat and walked over to your desk, leaning against it. “I-,” he started, “I want kittens.”

His admission out in the air, he closed his eyes, fearing your reaction. But no sound of rejection came from you. Opening one eye to peep at you, you were confused. Yoongi could also see the gears turning in your head as you thought of something, anything to respond to him.

“Yoongi, I-I don’t think we’re-”

“Not like that!” He stopped you, seeing how you didn’t quite understand what he was talking about. “I mean like, actual kittens. . . Cats. . .” He explained.

Your mouth parted, “Oooh.” The dots connected, Yoongi’s sudden mood changes started to make sense; especially this morning’s when you called him kitty. All this because he wanted to father kittens? “How long have you been thinking about this?”

“Hmm?”

“How long have you wanted kittens, Yoongi?” You questioned.

Bashfully, he looked to his feet, “I don’t know. . . Since we got together, I suppose?”

Your eyebrows shot up into your hairline, “That long?! Why haven’t you told me, baby?” You went to grab his hands, holding them in yours.

“You never said anything about wanting kids, animal or not so I just. . . didn’t say anything.” He responded, keeping his eyes on your interlocked hands.

“Yoongi, look at me.” He raised his head to meet your gaze, “Human babies I never really thought much on, but kittens? I love kittens so much, of course I’d want to have them with you.”

“Really?” He felt like his eyes were going to pop right out of their sockets “You mean it? I can-We can get a kitten? A baby?” Yoongi couldn’t believe his ears; his vision started to blur as tears welled up in them. The blurry outline of you nodded as you stood, pulling him into a hug as the happy tears fell from his face.

You cooed at him as you wrapped your arms around his neck, his face burying itself in your neck. “Aww, we can definitely get a kitten. I think having one might be a wonderful little addition to our family, don’t you think?” Yoongi only cried harder in response. You stroked the hairs at the back of his neck, soothing him from his happy tears. “I’ll take that as a yes, I’ll get all my work done today and tomorrow we can go to a shelter and adopt. Okay?” With a nod of his head and a couple sniffles, he pulled away from the hug. You moved your hand to lay it on his cheek, wiping away the remaining tears from his cheeks. “Let me finish this up okay? You do research on some kitten supplies and shelters nearby?”

With that, Yoongi immediately got to work on researching products (within your established budget) and found a shelter a few blocks away from your apartment building. You thanked whatever deity that was watching over you that allowed your apartment to put in a notice for a new pet so last minute. Normally you’d have no qualms about waiting a few days, but the way Yoongi had been keeping this to himself, you didn’t want him to wait any longer. He deserved to be a proud father of a little fur baby.

All night long, you could feel Yoongi’s excitement radiate from him as he tossed and turned in the bed all night. You could hear him even giggle to himself, whispering how he’s going to be a dad. The words squeezed your heart as you turned to wrap your arms around him, partially to keep him still but also because you were happy that he was so happy about this step for the both of you. Maybe him a little more than you though.

You woke up to an empty bed, you patted around Yoongi’s side, noting it was cold. You were puzzled for a moment, wondering where he might be when the smell of bacon flooded your nose. You let out a light chuckle as you got out of bed, and shuffled down the hallway to see Yoongi in the kitchen, buzzing as he cooked breakfast. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d mistake you for a dog hybrid for being this excited.” You chuckled as you sat down at the table. He narrowed his eyes at you before returning to cooking. Normally Yoongi never went all out with breakfast unless it was a special occasion, you suppose that today might as well be a special occasion, it being the day he finally gets to become a dad. “Did you get any sleep?” You asked as he put some bacon and toast on a couple plates.

“Enough,” he answered, placing a plate in front of you on the table. You rolled your eyes at his response, you should’ve figured he didn’t get much; but at least he got some of it. “Gotta get used to not sleeping all throughout the night.”

“Yoongi, it’s a kitten. Not an actual baby.” You chortled as you took a bite of bacon, “It’s not gonna wake us up in the middle of the night crying.”

“Yeah, but kittens in a new environment often are excited and don’t sleep much the first night or so.” He responded as he sat down in front of you, “While I’m not a full cat, you should remember how restless I was when you first got me.”

You do remember. He stayed up all night the first few days, getting a feel of your apartment; sniffing around and making some noise, but after that he started to settle in and get comfortable in his new home. “Yes, but cats don’t whine every few hours to be fed.”

“Touche,” he bowed his head in defeat before going to take a bite out of his toast.

You watched him as he ate, nibbling a bit on your breakfast as you did. As you continued to eat, you noticed he was getting more and more fidgety. Figuring how he wasn’t very upfront with you about getting a kitten, he was waiting on your word to get ready to find a shelter. You smirked a bit as you took a few more bites of your toast before pushing your plate away. “Alright, ready to go?” Before you even finished, Yoongi jumped from his seat and kissed your cheek. You barked out a laugh as your hybrid dashed down the hallways towards the bedroom in a blur of black and white.

Deciding to take it upon yourself, you cleared the table, seeing how Yoongi was too excited to focus on anything else. You shook your head as you picked up his abandoned breakfast on the table; if he was too excited to sleep, you should’ve figured he’d be too excited to eat. Better make sure the second that kitten crosses the threshold of your apartment that you feed him before he forgets completely to eat. As you finished up in the kitchen, said hybrid came back, “What are you doing?! Why aren’t you getting dressed?!” He exasperated at you, still dressed in pajamas, while he was all nicely dressed.

“I’m sorry that I want to make a nice impression on the newcomer, when they arrive.” You chuckled as you walked up to him, ruffling his hair. “I’ll get dressed. You finish up here.” In a flash, he was at the sink, furiously scrubbing the pans and plates. You laughed at him again, you wonder how he’s going to react when you tell him that you’re not even gonna stop at the shelter first, seeing how you should get the products first before the kitten steps it’s paws in the apartment. No matter how eager Yoongi was, you needed a litter box first. Kitten second.

Once you’re dressed and down the hall, your overly eager feline partner was frantically checking himself in the hallway mirror. Letting out a chuckle as he made his hair and ears look as neat as possible. You held up your keys, the jingling catching his attention, he beamed as you moved to put your shoes on and get out of the door.

“What kind should we get? I looked at some of the ones at the shelter and there’s this pretty ragdoll, she’s all white and fluffy- Ooh! There’s this siamese kitten that just had the most beautiful eyes-”

“Yoongi,” you cut off his rambling as you approached your car. “I love you, I really do and I’m excited that you’re excited. But don’t overthink it, let’s just go to the shelter first and see who speaks out to you more. Okay?”

You watched as he bashfully scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry.” He chuckled nervously.

“Don’t apologize, baby. Now come on, we gotta get going.” You hopped in the car, Yoongi followed behind you, climbing into the backseat. The two of you sit in silence as you drive off, your hybrid humming happily as he stared out the window. It’s only when you pull up to the pet store does Yoongi let out a low groan.

“This isn’t the shelter!”

You grabbed his hand as he pouted his lips at you, “I know. But we need litter, food, and toys. I don’t want to forget that on the way home.” You pressed a kiss to his knuckles as he dropped his pout.

“Fine,” he sighed as he unbuckled and got out, clearly unhappy with the decision, but realizing it was the right one either way.

“You’re acting more like a moody teen than a father to be, you sure you’re ready?” You raised a brow at him, which quickly had him standing up straighter.

“Yes, I am.” He gave a firm nod as he spoke, “Now come on, the fast we get the supplies, the faster we can get the baby.” He took your hand in his and led you into the store.

You let Yoongi take the lead pushing the cart through the aisles as you searched for the supplies you needed. You could feel stares from other customers as Yoongi was looking at the different types of kitten litter and which one would be best. You felt like they were judging you for bringing your hybrid to the pet store, like you were going to make him actually use the items that were meant for his animal counterpart.

“Can I help you with anything?” You both turned your head to see a young woman in a blue vest standing there, a confused expression on her face.

“Actually yes, what brand of litter would you recommend? I’ve read all the reviews but, I’m curious about your opinion?” Yoongi rambled off as he stood, walking to get closer to the employee. “We’re going to adopt a kitten later today and this is both of our first times owning a cat.”

“Oh!” The employee's eyes widened and nodded, now understanding the situation instead of assuming the worst. “Well what age are you looking to adopt?”

“Not sure, I was thinking maybe four to six weeks?” He said as the worker’s eyes examined the wall of litter in front of her.

“Hmm,” she stepped down and pulled out a medium sized pink box. “This brand is what I’ve seen the best reviews on, anyone with a kitten seems to like it before going on to other litter.” She handed it over to Yoongi, who was bowing his head as he accepted the box.

“Thank you very much!” He replied, gracious for the help.

“No problem, anything else I can help you with?” She responded with a grin of her own as she looked between the two of you.

Yoongi glanced over his shoulder to you, waiting to see if you needed anything at all. You shook your head, “No. Thank you for the offer though, I think we got it.”

Yoongi thanked the employee again before turning to put the box of litter in the cart. “Got litter, got the litter box, food, what else?”

“Toys and a collar?” You noticed that was something lacking from your growing collection of cat necessities. Looking up to Yoongi, you see him with his lips pursed in thought as he stared down into the cart. “Something wrong with that?”

“Toys no,” he said, moving to push the cart forward towards the cat toy aisle. “Collar, I don’t know. I mean, it’s going to be indoors anyways. Does it even really need it?”

He did have a point, a collar was to ensure that if it got lost you’ll be contacted as soon as it’s found. But considering how it is going to be inside all the time, and with Yoongi always around too, did you really need it? “You’re right, but we don’t know. Why don’t we skip the collar today, and get it when we know for sure. Does that sound good?”

You followed close behind him as he turned into the next aisle, thinking of what you said. “Yeah, sounds good. Just don’t want to make any unnecessary purchases.” You stopped in front of a small wall of colorful toys and stretching posts. Your eyes shifted towards him as he closely examined each and every toy in front of him. “There a limit on how many toys we can get?”

“Let’s start with three,” you laughed lightly as you moved to stand beside him, looking over the different options. “We do need a scratching post, so let’s get this one,” you move to grab a long cardboard scratcher and put it in the cart, “because we don’t need the little baby scratching up the furniture.”

“No we do not,” Yoongi returned with a chuckle, reaching out to grab a small pack of toys in the shape of mice. “These look fun.”

“What are you gonna play with it too?” You elbowed him gently as he tossed them into the wagon.

“I just might.” He teased as his attention went back to the wall of toys, he reached forward and grabbed a small plush octopus. He gave it a little shake and it chimed, his eyes immediately lit right up and placed it right next to the other toys.

“I’m beginning to think those toys are for you more than the kitten,” you joked as Yoongi moved to push the cart out of the aisle and towards check out. He scrunched his nose up at you but didn’t deny your statement.

Once at the check out, Yoongi put all the items up on the conveyor belt while you went up to the cashier, who was eyeing Yoongi carefully as he checked out each item.Not liking the way he was looking at your hybrid, you cleared your throat, directing his attention back to you. You knew there was still some judgement towards hybrids being out and about in public, but that shouldn’t matter because he was with you. His owner.

“Did you find everything alright?” The cashier huffed as he bagged your items, going over the register to double check that he scanned everything.

“Yup!” You gave him a tight smile, not wanting him to give away your displeasure at his behavior. You just wanted out of this pet store now. Yoongi, on the other hand, must’ve sensed your uneasiness and in an instant he stood right next to you, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. Letting out a shaking breath, you returned his squeeze before finishing up your purchase. It certainly was a small hit to your bank account but this was worth it, it was for Yoongi.

You both gave a quick thank you to the worker before you made your leave, cart full of brand new kitten supplies. As you were loading up the car, Yoongi placed a hand on your shoulder. “You okay?”

“I didn’t like those eyes on us, on you.” You muttered as you shut the trunk closed.

“Y/N look at me,” he placed his hand on your cheek. “It’s alright, I can deal with a couple of staring strangers. But you’re with me that’s all that matters.” He smiled as his thumb caressed your cheek.

You stood there for a moment, letting him sooth your anxieties before you pulled away. “Okay, now let’s go get that kitten. No sadness today, this is supposed to be a happy time.” Soon as the words left your mouth, Yoongi’s entire demeanor shifted; going from a caring partner, to an excited child with only a few words.

“Right! Let’s go!!” With that, Yoongi gave you a chaste kiss before jumping into the passenger side door.

The drive to the shelter wasn’t that long, and Yoongi was bouncing up and down in his seat like a child on his way to Toys R Us. It was cute though, seeing him this excited. You don’t think you’ve seen him this giddy; you’ve seen him happy of course, but not this kind of emotion. It looked good on him, you hoped he manages to keep it going as the kitten grows old.

“We’re here!!” Yoongi announced ecstatically as you pulled up in the parking lot. The hybrid waited patiently as he could as you got out of the car, his eyes locked on the door of the small building. It was a bit on the smaller side, but it was a bit more of a homey feeling to it. Something that you thought would be good seeing how this will be the new addition to your family.

Soon as you stepped forward towards him, he bounded ahead of you, eager to get through the door. “Hurry up!” He whined as you leisurely took your time walking up the path to the door.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you huffed as you finally managed to get to the front door. Yoongi was grinning so hard his cheek muscles were sore, but that didn’t matter. It was finally happening. He was gonna be a dad!

Door to the shelter opened, he followed you as you stepped inside, glancing around at the posters of various cats and dogs on the wall. He stared at them while a volunteer at the front desk asked to help you. He moved his head to pay attention to the conversation, but little meows echoed from the door where the volunteer entered from. His hand instantly grabbed yours as he heard the little cries; not coming from his computer, but from actual kittens.

His attention was brought back to you at the sound of your laughter. “You ready, Yoon?” He nodded his head so hard, you feared his head might pop off. Your shoulders shook with another laugh as you looked back to the volunteer, “Can we see them now?”

“Of course!” She answered as she took a few steps back towards the door, holding it open for the two of you. Yoongi followed after her quickly, tugging you along with your hand still tightly grasped in his. The smell of all the other animals filled Yoongi’s senses as they walked down a short hallway. He could hear the sounds of them as well, all calling for the attention of the new people that they no doubt smelled. Soon enough, they approached a door marked CATS, Yoongi felt your eyes on him as the volunteer opened the door and walked in.

“You ready to be a dad, Yoongi?” Your voice was soft as you squeezed his hand. All he could do was nod as you entered.

The scent hit him first, the smell of fur and cat food, and litter boxes. Not the most pleasant thing in the world, but at that very moment, it was better than roses to him. Then the sound of dozens of cats meowing away filled his eardrums and he felt his smile get wider as he glanced around the small room. There was a small cat tree in the middle of the room, with silver kennels on either side of it. Some of the doors were open, the felines who inhabited them wandered about the room. The rest of them remained closed, but that didn’t stop them from sticking out their paws between the wires, going out to grab the other volunteers in the room.

“So all our kittens are about four to six weeks old, all siblings are in the same kennel. Feel free to open them up if you want,” she explained as she walked over to another male volunteer to talk to him. “All their names are on that white board, by the way!”

There was a small brush against Yoongi’s pant leg. Glancing down, he made eye contact with an orange tabby cat; rubbing it’s head against his calf. The creature looked up and meowed at him, curious about the two new strangers who came in. Ever so slowly, Yoongi knelt down petting it’s head and letting it keen into his hand. Above, he could hear you coo as at the sight before getting distracted with another cat that came up to you.

Yoongi felt like he was going to cry, he had to only take one home? When there’s so many here that all need homes? He was so close to just begging you to take them all home, but he knew that that wouldn’t be a good idea. Taking a deep breath, he got back up to his feet and walked over to one of the kennels and peered in, looking at the small fluff balls curl together for warmth. Carefully, he moved to open the wire door without waking any of them, but it appears his presence was enough to wake them because sure enough, small mewls added into the already noisy room as he opened the door completely.

“Hi,” his voice was barely a whisper as he reached in and let the kitten sniff at him, getting adjusted to his scent before moving to touch any of them. A small white kitten with the bluest eyes reached up to grab at his fingers, its small claws digging into his skin. “Ow,” he feigned with a chuckle as he lowered his head to scratch at the fur balls ears. “You’re a curious one, aren’t you.” He lilted as he turned his attention to another kitten. This one was black, but strangely enough has small light grey stripes decorated its body. It was a bit more separated from the rest of the litter, smaller too. Intrigued, he moved his hand over to it and let the kitten sniff it. When it seemed to accept him, he let his hand curl around its small body, lifting it out of the cage and into his arms.

“You found someone, Yoongi?” He heard you ask as you approach him, a small gasp leaving your lips when you see the tiny creature in his arms. “Oh my goodness! Aren’t you precious!” You melted as you reached your finger out to stroke its head.

“I see you’ve found the runt of the litter,” the volunteer noted as she walked over to you both, a smile on her face. “She’s all healthy, so if she’s the one you want, she’s ready to go home with you.”

Yoongi could feel your eyes on him, looking for an answer on if this was the one you were going to take home. He stared down at the small cat in his arms, who’s big eyes stared right back at him. He could feel it deep in his heart, this was the one. This was his baby. “Yeah, it’s her.”

“Okay, babe.” You kissed his cheek before looking back to the kitten still in his arms. “Hi baby, you almost match your daddy.” You giggled as you gave her one last scratch before confirming with the volunteer that you’ll be taking that one home.

With a smile, she nodded, asking you to follow her to finish up the paperwork while telling another volunteer to help Yoongi with getting her ready to leave. He readjusted the kitten in his arms so she was now laying against his chest, rather than in his arms. The other volunteer held a cardboard carrier with an old towel in it out. Yoongi was hesitant at first, not quite ready to let his new found child out of his arms just yet.

“Come on, buddy. She’s gonna be okay,” he encouraged Yoongi as he reached for the cat. Holding back the urge to swipe at him and carry the cat out in his arms, he knew you wouldn’t want him to make a scene. So he complied, letting him take the kitten from him and into the carrier. The volunteer handed it over to him; but instead of holding it by the handle, he held it by the bottom in both hands. Not wanting to jostle her around before getting to the car.

The volunteer escorted him back out to the lobby, where you were finishing up. “Yoongi, what are you gonna name her?” You asked. The question caught him off guard, he didn’t know what he was gonna name his kitten. He’s wanted one for how long and he never thought of one? He quickly racked his brain for names, not wanting it to sound too cheesy or weird but none came to mind.

“I, uh,” he was embarrassed at the predicament. But you merely laughed at him before placing a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s just for the chip she got, I’ll just put down Min for now alright?” You looked to him for his permission. He nodded, the two of you will figure out a better name to call her in the meantime. But at least she’s got a nickname on her.

Paperwork all done, and a car full of new cat stuff. The two of you drove back to your apartment, and all the while Yoongi was flinching with every confused little meow that came from the white box on his lap. Unable to take it anymore, he cracked open the carrier a bit, just enough to stick his hand in and sooth her of both his and her anxieties about the drive. You rolled your eyes at the action, mumbling something under your breath about coddling her before she’s even gotten to the house. But Yoongi couldn’t help it! He hated hearing the small and scared whimpers, he couldn’t just do nothing!

When the drive finally came to a stop, you handed Yoongi the key to the apartment. “Put her in our room, close the door and come back here to help me with the rest of the stuff. Okay?” You instructed, to which Yoongi followed to the T. Well almost to the T.

Once he got into the house, he opened up the carrier and pulled out the kitten. “This is your new home.” He started as he walked around, showing her the place. “This is the living room and the kitchen area, we’re out here a lot. Don’t try to scratch up the couch please, or Y/N is gonna kill us both.” He chuckled as he made his way down the hall, pointing at different photos and giving a story. “This is the bedroom, where we sleep. You can sleep here too.” He went on and he placed her down on the ground. “Now you can explore while we go get your things.” He said, but didn’t move. Watching how the kitten sniffed around the new place, getting a feel of it. A smile on his face, he slowly started backing out of the room, closing it behind him.

He rushed back out of the door, but before he made it to your car, he ran into you, an annoyed look on your face. “You got distracted with the kitty, didn’t you?” Yoongi looked down at the ground, feeling a bit guilty for putting the baby before his partner but thankfully you seemed to understand. “Fine, just get the cat litter. Couldn’t carry it all by myself.” You jerked your head in the direction of the car. Nodding, he ran down to go get the rest of the things.

Setting the majority of the cat stuff down, you quietly started towards the bedroom. Cracking open the door, you don’t see anything just yet. You push the door open a bit more, still nothing but there is a small little lump of poop on the floor, stinking up the whole room. “Gah,” you gagged as you quickly went to the kitchen to grab some paper towels and cleaner. “Knew I should’ve told him to get the kitty litter ready first,” you muttered to yourself as you cleaned up the little troublemaker’s poop. After being sure to toss it in a trashcan in the bathroom, you began looking for the little one.

Laying flat on the ground, you peered under your bed. The small outline of the kitten was seen in the middle of the bed, out of reach for you to grab. “Aww, come here baby. No ones gonna hurt you.” You stretched your arm out under the bed, the tips of your fingers barely grazing her soft fur. You could feel her lower her nose to your hand, sniffing you out before rubbing her head against your palm.

“What are you doing?” You heard Yoongi’s voice called out from above you.

“She hid under the bed,” you explained as you pulled your arm out from underneath the space.

Yoongi pursed his lips in thought as he leaned down, taking his turn to reach under the bed. “Come here baby, come on.” He made kissy noises, trying to lure her out. “Come to daddy.” But to no avail, she didn’t come out.

Disappointment was written across his face as he sat up. “Aww, don’t be upset Yoon. She;s just scared. She’s in a new place,” you placed your hand on his cheek. “Why don’t we set up her stuff, maybe she’ll come out then.”

Begrudgingly, he agreed. You set up all the stuff in the room first, just to get her accompanied to the new place before the rest of the apartment. You had Yoongi handle setting up her litter box and opening up her toys while you set up her food and water. Cat stuff thoroughly thrown about the place, you saw small little paws peek out from underneath the bed.

“Yoongi,” you nudged your hybrid to look at where you were pointing.

Instantly, he began to lower himself to the ground, not breaking eye contact with her as she watched him slowly go down and down until he was laying flat on his stomach. Taking a few tentative steps, she got closer to him. Sniffing at his ear which twitched at the close proximity of her black little nose. “Those are my ears,” he stated simply as she started to swat at them and his hair. “Hey,” he chuckled, lifting his head away from her paws. “Don’t hurt daddy.”

“You’re really gonna stick with daddy?”

“Got a problem with that?”

“Not at all,” you raised your hands in defense, not wanting to argue with him. He moved back to sit on the ground next to you and watch as the kitten curiously bounded around the room. She looked up at you before making slow steps over, before putting her paws on your thighs. You looked up at Yoongi who looked nearly green with envy. “Guess we know who her favorite is.” You teased.

“No no no no,” he said as he leaned over before picking up the cat, plopping her on his lap. “She’s gonna be a daddy’s girl, if it’s the last thing I do.” You would’ve thought she would’ve hated being moved by force and would’ve jumped away, but she didn’t. She snuggled herself deeper into his lap and started purring. Now it’s your turn to be jealous.

“No fair,” you grumbled as you leaned forward to pet her again.

Yoongi only stuck his tongue out at you before turning his attention back down to the cat. “Moonlight.”

“What was that?”

“Her name is Moonlight. Moonie for short,” he said, his eyes never leaving her as he let his hand stroke her.

You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the kitten. “Welcome to the family, Moonie.”

The rest of the day is spent with you and Yoongi on the ground, playing with her, completely ignoring the rest of the world. You took a lot of videos of her playing around Yoongi’s tail. It was precious to see how well he was with her; jumping into his new role as a cat dad. It warmed your heart. With each of her squeaky meows, Yoogni would respond with one of his own; his deep voice making a low meow, sounding nothing at all like a cat. Yet she still responded, meowing back only louder and more pitchy.

As they continued to play, it became painfully obvious that Yoongi definitely bought those small mouse toys for him because he was playing around with them a lot more than her. Moonlight on the other hand, was approaching your bed. Pouncing on it in an attempt to climb up top. With a laugh, you helped her up onto the mattress, watching her as she waddled about the uneasy surface.

Your stomach growled, hungry for some food. “I’m gonna go make something real quick.” You got up and kissed the top of Yoongi’s head before walking out of the room and towards the kitchen. You made a quick sandwich to refuel before getting back to playing. As you ate, you thought of how well this was going to be. Granted it was only the first day, but this was going to be good. Just by the look on Yoongi’s face you could tell. He was absolutely in love with that small little ball of fur, his baby. Your baby.

Finishing up your little sandwich, you made your way back to the bedroom. It was quiet, you didn’t hear any more rustling or mewling. Brows furrowed, you opened the door and the sight you saw before you melted you. Yoongi laid curled up in the middle of the bed, similar to how he did when he first got comfortable with you when you got him. Moonlight was tucked close to his chest with an arm draped over her, fast asleep.

On your tiptoes, you made your way over to the bed to lay opposite of Yoongi. They both stirred as the mattress dipped beneath your weight, but both remained with eyes closed. You let your arm drape over Yoongi’s side, effectively sandwiching Moonlight between the two of you. There the three of your laid, tired smiles on your faces as you warmed the new addition of the family between you.

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