gardenofdaisiess
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Summary
Will's breath catches in his throat as he looks out over the lake, the red and blue lights from the police cruisers reflecting off the water.
An arm, small and frail, hangs limp, pale finger tips dipping into the frigid water as it swings from the force of being moved.
There, in the middle of the group of men all dressed in rescue gear, a little figure lies on a gurney, lifeless and unmoving.
The child's face slowly registers in Will's mind. Hair blotted across the forehead, sticking from the water. Long eyelashes over pale cheeks. A mole above blue, cracked lips.
His favorite jacket on his shoulders.
The realization settles in his stomach, forboding and sickening.
It.. It’s…
“It’s Will. It’s really Will.”
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It's terrible to realize that maybe everything you knew was, well, wrong.
Something has gone awry in the universe, and it must be set right. -
if you love me, get my name tatted by wusgood_curious
Fandoms: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
18 Jul 2026
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"I can't really see it," Will huffs, dropping his shoulder in mild frustration. "Can you take a picture?"
"Yeah. Turn around."
Mike grabs Will's phone off the tray, swiping it open to the camera. Will turns his back to him, resting his hands lightly on his own thighs to keep his balance while he waits. He hears the snap of the shutter.
Mike hands the phone back.
Will stares at the bright screen. The black ink is slightly raised and red, an angry flush sitting flawlessly in the dip of his lower back, just a fraction of an inch above the lace waistband of his panties.
In a sharp script, it reads exactly one word.
Mike.
Or: A truth or dare game between exes gets out of hand, and they both end up wearing each other's names forever.
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Mike and Will had a serious fight a few days ago. What Mike didn't expect was that Will would think it was a great idea to send him a photo of himself in panties.
*this DOESN'T have 33k words, most of them are code!!!!*
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Whatever he thought he would find, it most certainly wasn't this.
The first thing he sees is soft, floppy ears. A rabbit, he thinks, until it tilts its head up and Michael is staring into soft hazel eyes set into a round, pale face.
A rabbit hybrid. A bunny-boy.
The boy's eyes widen, and he makes a quiet noise in the back of his throat, crawling backward away from the tree. The scent of vanilla sharpens into something harsher — something scared.
Sir Michael's sacred oath to the crown is his sole focus and purpose in life. That is, until he meets a sweet little rabbit in the woods, who urges him to reconsider what he truly cares for most — his duty, or his happiness?
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He took a step forward, his eyes scanning the shop for the source of the heavenly scent. His tail caught the edge of a tall wooden stand displaying dozens of small potted lavender plants.
Crash!
The stand wobbled precariously for a moment before tipping over completely. Terracotta pots shattered on the polished wooden floor, spilling dark soil and lavender sprigs everywhere. The sound was deafening in the quiet shop.
"Shit!" Mike yelped, his ears flattening against his head with pure mortification. He dropped to his knees immediately, trying to gather the broken pieces, his tail still going a mile a minute, now knocking over a nearby watering can. "I'm so sorry! I'll clean that up."
"That's... quite alright." The voice was soft, a little hesitant, but it sent a shiver down his spine.
Mike looked up.
And the world stopped.
Or: The werehare omegaverse flower shop au nobody asked for.