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gifted-burnout-archive · 4 years

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The Other Side of Hollywood

Part Four

Word Count: 6.3K+

Author’s Note: It’s the end of episode seven! The chemistry is real, the stakes are high, the secrets are being revealed. I went straight from writing Part Three into writing this, and I have a feeling I’ll start writing the next part immediately...

Thank you for reading the nonsense I write.

Warning: our ghoul bois get sad...

Part One here, Two here, and Three here. Masterlist here. Boom, let’s get into it.

Y/N had spent almost all of her afterlife surrounded by grown-ups. It was by chance, of course, that she was the youngest one at the Hollywood Ghost Club, but until Willie showed up about ten years before, that’s just how it was. And while every night at the HGC was a party…

There was nothing quite like a high-school house party.

The fact was Y/N was meant to be somewhere else. She was scheduled for bar duty that night at the club, but with a note on her room door reading she felt unwell and already asking someone to cover her shift that evening, she had the chance to venture out into the world beyond, to forget what had happened after Luke left the club… The jolts, the yelling, the feeling that her stomach was on fire and burning her from the inside.

So, in keeping with what she could vaguely remember about the high school parties she attended in the 90s, she did her best to dress up: she ditched her scruffy band tees and torn up shorts for a knee length black dress she had found about 20 odd years ago. She had discovered it in the costume department’s back corners, falling in love with the camisole top with the lace border and the flowing skirt with pockets from the moment she set eyes on it. Caleb had told her to take it, keep it for herself, and after a few good washes and alterations, it fit her like a glove… Then she didn’t have anywhere to wear it for two decades.

She had rummaged through her cupboards and found a nice pair of heeled combat boots to match, and with and box of treats for the boys she had swiped earlier that evening under her arm, one last check in the mirror and a final application of a vintage pink lipstick, she poofed out her room to the address Luke had given her, which she had transferred to a post-it note once she was alone, the ink on her arm already fading.

She landed with a thud of her heavy boots a second later, her carpet having shifted to what Y/N could only assume was Julie’s patio. She did a 360, quickly figuring out where she was: a fence to her left, trees to her right and a garden gate behind her, Y/N opted to go forward, heading in the direction of chatter and multi-coloured string lights.

There wasn’t much Y/N could remember about her life on earth, and what she did was pretty miserable: however, walking into the party gave her a strange sense of nostalgia, of déjà vu. She slipped her way through the crowds, for a moment forgetting no-one could see her, setting down the bag of goodies she had brought by the doors of the garage, which upon a second glance looked more like a studio from what little she could make out through the windows. She watched as kids, no doubt from Julie’s high school, milled around and chattered together, talking about school work and how glad they were that Friday had come around at last, how excited they were to see the band play. She couldn’t join in on anything, she knew that, but it didn’t bother her, and Y/N found herself a comfortable spot on the garden’s back wall, her legs swinging as she watched the world go by.

“What are you doing here?” A voice caught Y/N’s attention, looking forward and to her right to find the voice linked a handsome blonde haired boy, who looked rather displeased with a girl that she recognised: the girl from the pop group the other night at the bar.

“Julie is one of my oldest friends, Nick.” She snapped back. “I’m sure she just forgot to invite me.” She folded her arms, and the poor kid beside her sighed.

“Look, we’re not getting back together, Carrie.” He said with a deadpan voice, and Y/N couldn’t help but lean closer.

“I’ve heard that before…” Carrie replied back with a smirk, turning her attention back to the stage. “Something doesn’t add up about those holograms.” She pondered, placing a manicured hand on Nick’s lapel. “I wouldn’t trust her, if I were you.” She added, the conversation ended as a familiar face appeared nearby, Flynn boosting herself up onto the wall, her foot going into Y/N’s leg as she turned around, microphone in one hand and an odd looking box in the other. She set down the latter object pointed for the stage, and quickly connected it to some sort of plug.

“What’s up everybody?” Flynn asked, Y/N scooting along the wall a little to stop Flynn from stepping into her again. “Time to put your hands up, do a little dance, yup, here’s the new anthem from Julie and the Phantoms.” Flynn announced, jumping off the wall and running to the front of the crowd as two kids no more than 12, who Y/N speculated were Julie’s younger brother and friend, opening the studio doors that had been decorated with papier mâché to reveal Julie.

The sight of the girl, covered in butterflies and smiling so bright, brought an ache to Y/N’s heart, though she didn’t know why. It was one of fondness, watching the girl walk to the piano with a shy wave to the crowd of her peers almost had Y/N feeling proud.

“Thanks for coming everyone.” She said as she sat down, taking a nervous breath, and scanning the crowd to lock eyes on Flynn, and then, further back, Y/N. Julie smiled at her, prompting Y/N to smile back and hold her thumbs up in support. Another breath, and Julie began the song.

“Running through the past, tripping on the now. What is lost can be found, it’s obvious…” Whoops and cheers emerged from the crowd as Julie began to sing. “And like a rubber ball, we come bouncing back, we all got a second act, inside of us.” The machine just above Y/N whirred into life suddenly, and out of thin air, the band appeared behind Julie, causing the audience to gasp and cheer while Y/N just smiled wider.

“I believe, I believe that we’re just one dream away from who we’re meant to be, that we’re standing on the edge of…” Julie’s voice was unequivocally unique, the sort of sound you found once in a generation. And with the boys behind her, Y/N was confident in the conclusion she had come to the night before: they were the best band she had ever seen. “Something big, something crazy our best is yet unknown, that this moment is ours to own, cause we’re standing on the edge of great!” The boys came in, providing an echo of the chorus’ tagline as Julie belted some beautiful high notes.

It was in this section of the song that Luke’s eyes finally moved from his band mates and onto the crowd, scanning over the audience and just soaking in their reaction. On that stage, he felt alive, free, and undoubtedly happy: in fact, it’s how he felt whenever he managed to get his hands on a guitar, when he got to play, when he wrote music.

And as his eyes landed on a certain girl in black at the back of the crowd, he realised it’s how he felt when he was with her, as well.

“Yeah, we all make mistakes, but they’re just stepping stones to take us where we wanna go, it’s never straight no…” Luke sang, his eyes focused in on a spot in the back of the room no-one in the audience could see: but his bandmates could. Julie quickly noticed where Luke’s eyes had landed and grinned at Reggie, who raised a brow before he glanced between Luke and his point of fixation, a smile on his face. Alex caught on pretty quickly from his raised vantage point.

“Sometimes we gotta lean, lean on someone else to get a little help until we find a way.” With a quick nod, Luke passed the melody to Julie and took the harmony line, rolling his eyes at the stupid grins his bandmates had. They had noticed who he was looking at. “I believe, I believe that we’re just one dream away from who we’re meant to be, that we’re standing on the edge of something big, something crazy, our best is yet unknown, that this moment is ours to own, cause we’re standing on the edge of great!” Julie came out to the crowd, singing a portion of the song to Flynn in front, even taking the chance to wave at Nick, which more than ticked off Carrie from Y/N’s point of view. As they finished the chorus, Y/N found herself needing to be closer, and pushed herself off the wall, walking through the crowd and stopping in the front, her arms folded and a smirk on her face as she lifted a hand to wave her fingers in hello to Reggie, who had to gulp in response.

“Shout, shout! Come on and let it out, out! Don’t gotta hide it. Let your colours blind their eyes, be who you are, don’t compromise.” Julie climbed up the piano as she sang and sat herself on the top, throwing her head back as she sang in a way that had the déjà vu hitting Y/N all over again. “Just shout, shout! Come on and let it out, out! What doesn’t kill you makes you feel alive… Oh, I believe.” Julie sang, Luke stepping forward towards her, playing a guitar solo underneath her. “I believe that we’re just one dream away from who we’re meant to be,” The pair shared a smile as Luke free-styled alongside her. “That we’re standing on the edge of great!” Julie stood up as she held the high note, throwing her arms out and giving it everything she had, to the applause and cheering of the crowd as the boys sang the rest of the chorus behind her.

“We’re standing on the edge of great, on the edge of great. Great, on the edge of great. Great, on the edge of great.” The boys sang along as Julie re-joined them, Luke’s eyes finding Y/N’s once more and a dopey smile came on his face. As the chorus came to an end, Alex and Reggie vanished into thin air, and Luke swung his guitar behind him, grabbing his mic off its stand as Julie sat back at the piano, the pair singing the outro together.

“Running through the past,” Luke sang, walking to the front of their stage, coming face to face with Y/N. “Tripping on the now… What is lost can be found, it’s obvious.” He sang softly to her, winking in the second before he disappeared, a group of girls right behind Y/N bursting into a fit of giggles while the true receiver of Luke’s affection stood rather breathless in front of them, practically glowing under the string lights.

After the performance had finished, Flynn taking control as DJ for the rest of the night, Julie was quick to push her mother’s piano back into the studio with the assistance of her dad and Nick, and then close over and lock the doors to stop anyone wandering in before joining her guests. The doors closing and the turn of the lock was the signal the guys needed to relax after a performance well done, all three collapsing onto chairs around the room with happy sighs, the sounds of the party continuing muted by the thick oak doors.

Before any of them could say a word, a hand appeared through the wood and chapped on the door’s inside, the stamp on her wrist making it clear who had arrived.

“Come in!” Reggie yelled, swiftly receiving a punch from Luke who scrambled to pull off his beanie and run a hand through his mess of waves. Just as he stood up, Y/N walked through the door, a smile on her face and a box under her arm.

“You guys…” She started, shaking her head. “I am amazed every single time.” She admitted, setting the box down on the coffee table, only to be met with silence, no-one quite sure who was meant to speak first. “Open it. Please.” She urged, Alex flipping the top off the box to reveal a selection of delicacies from the club: burgers, pizza, meatball subs, and a half of a chocolate fudge cake.

“Keep her.” Alex ordered Luke, his eyes not looking up as he reached for a burger. “She remembered to take off the cheese.” He added with a grin, digging into the burger. Reggie looked into the box, picking up one of the meatball subs, and with a quick glance to Y/N to make sure he was good to help himself, Reggie sat beside Alex and let himself dig in.

“I… I didn’t think you would make it. Shouldn’t you be at the club?” Luke asked, having to clear his throat to stop his voice cracking. He kept his eyes on hers, though his peripheral could gauge how gorgeous she looked in the dress. “Do they know you brought the food?”

“I’m already dead, there’s not much Caleb can do to reprimand me now.” She said with a shrug. “Plus, it’s not my first time sneaking out. I mean, it’s been a quarter of a century, but it’s like riding a bike: never leaves you.” Y/N assured with a smile, Luke smiling right back and holding out his hand. She took it, letting him lead her to the couch as her eyes took in the space the boys seemed to call home, her smile only getting wider.

“So, uh, proper introductions, right?” Luke suggested. “Guys, this is Y/N. Y/N, Alex and Reggie.” He gestured to his two closest friends as he spoke, both of whom were stuffing their faces with the food Y/N had brought along. Alex was first to clear his mouth of food, swallowing his bite of pizza and sending a nod her way.

“It’s nice to meet you again. You’ve certainly got Luke smitten…” The comment earned a pillow to the face, Y/N and Reggie laughing simultaneously. “I just mean! I just mean he’s got good taste, usually. It’ll be nice to get to know you.” Alex defended himself, and Y/N felt the blush rise on her cheeks.

“There’s not much to know, but I can answer any questions you’ve got.” She glanced back at Luke, who quickly shook his head at the boys behind her.

“You’ve opened the flood gates now Y/N…” He muttered, throwing an arm across the back of the couch, his fingers brushing against her shoulder. “Best get comfy.”

“Ok, ok.” Reggie asked through a bite of fudge cake an hour later, the rest of the room recovering from a laughing fit after Alex’s recounting of a story from when the guys were all kids that involved a play park slide, a frog and Luke’s parents finding said frog in their toilet later that night. They were asking questions back and forth, Y/N asking the guys a question before they asked her one back. It had been on plenty of tangents, but Reggie seemed to have a list of questions lined up, and with Luke’s thigh as her pillow as she lay on the couch, Y/N felt more than happy to comply and answer. She had spent most of the hour in the position, save from when Luke jumped up to fetch her his song writing journal, which currently lay on her chest. “Favourite song from the collection.” Reggie asked, and she glanced back up at Luke before smiling.

“I’m a sucker for a sad song… Unsaid Emily.” She answered, and Reggie nodded in approval, sharing a look with Luke that Y/N couldn’t quite decipher.

“Ok, most hated artist. Before or after death.” Alex asked, stretching out with a hand resting on his stomach. Most of the box’s contents were gone.

“Easy. Trevor Wilson.” She answered, causing the three guys to look over in shock. “I mean, the lyrics are exquisite… But he’s a horrible person, I could never support him as an artist, alive or dead.” She explained, and the guys shared a laugh, Luke taking one of her hands in his and threading their fingers together.

A knock on the door sent four pairs of eyes across the room, and it was quickly followed the door opening and Julie slipping into the studio, beaming from ear to ear. The music outside had quietened down, and with Julie’s arrival it seemed like the party might be coming to a close.

“We haven’t really met yet.” Y/N said quickly to refrain from an awkward silence settling. She sat up quickly from her position, Luke unlinking their hand to make it a little easier on her. “I’m Y/N.”

“Julie. Nice to properly meet you. And thank you, for coming along tonight. Certainly put Luke in better spirits.” Julie took a seat herself, her eyes stopping on Reggie as he took another bite of cake. “Ghost food?” She guessed, and was met by four nodding heads.

“I don’t know if Luke ever passed on my compliments from last night, but you guys are amazing.” Y/N offered, and Julie sank into the chair with a smile on her face, not quite listening to whatever had been said.

“Don’t mind Julie… She’s in her own world.” Luke said with a smile, and Y/N nodded.

“Oh, I know the look of a lovestruck girl when I see it.” She bit her lip, taking a moment. “I’m going to guess… The blonde kid who helped with the piano?”

“Nick.” The boys said in unison, and Julie sat up straight at the sound.

“Hey!” She pouted, but it didn’t stay long. “Ok, so, he may have… Kissed me goodnight?” She squealed, and Y/N let out a gasp of excitement, leaning forward to listen more as the guys shared glances, not sure whether to be happy or concerned: Julie was their friend, and the past few weeks the guys had become rather protective of her.

“Cheek, lips?” Y/N asked, and Julie blushed.

“Cheek… But after we danced together today at school…” Julie’s shoulders came up to her ears and she let out a happy sigh.

“Oh, he’s just waiting to ask you out.” Y/N concluded, and the three guys sent her a look, almost warning her not to tempt Julie. “What? The girl’s got a crush, leave her be. She wouldn’t stop any of you.” Y/N defended, glancing back at Luke with a cheeky grin.

Luke couldn’t help smiling back: God, she was beautiful.

“Have you told the one with the immaculate fashion sense yet?” Y/N asked, snapping her fingers as she tried to remember the name.

“Flynn?” Julie suggested, and Y/N nodded, sitting back against Luke, much to the boy’s delight.

“Exactly.”

“What about me?” The voice that came from the door was the girl in question, Flynn quickly shutting the door behind her and coming over to hug Julie from the back. She still wasn’t quite used to her best friend talking to thin air, but it was getting a little more normal. “Where can I sit?” She asked, glancing around the vacant couch and chairs, knowing the boys were sitting somewhere.

“Just here.” Julie pointed to a vacant chair. “Y/N was just complimenting your fashion sense.” Julie explained, gesturing to the air.

“Y/N? The girl from last night? The one you could see?” Flynn asked, waving at the spot Julie had just picked out. “Sorry, hi. I’m Flynn.” She said, and Y/N couldn’t help the smile on her face. If only she had been friends with these two in high school…

“That’s the one.” Julie nodded, and she paused for a moment, listening to someone Flynn couldn’t see. “And according to Reggie, you stood in her earlier.” Julie informed, earning a giggle from Flynn.

“I… Nope, this is weird.” Flynn sighed, standing up and beginning to pace, and Julie stood up in response, worried. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry… It’s just. It’s weird not seeing, or hearing them…” Flynn admitted, and Julie nodded in understanding, placing her hands on Flynn’s shoulders to stop the pacing.

“I know… It sucks… for all of us.” Julie confirmed to her best friend the feelings of the ghosts lounged over her furniture, but the words seemed to strike an idea in Flynn’s head.

“Can you guys all sing something?” She asked, looking in the general direction of the couches, managing to meet Reggie’s eye contact, who sat up a little straighter, waving his hand to make sure she couldn’t actually see him. “I mean, you all appear when you sing with Julie, I’d get to see all your stupid faces again.” Flynn shrugged.

“It’s not a bad idea.” Alex posited, pulling his drumsticks from his back pocket.

“Ok, but Y/N picks the song.” Reggie suggested, to the shared chuckles of the ghosts and Julie, who quickly explained that the guys were up for it, just picking a song. The girls sat back down as Y/N sat up and flicked through the marked pages of Luke’s book, stopping on ‘Bright’. She handed the book over to Luke with the song picked, and he grinned, closing his eyes for a moment before his guitar appeared in his hands.

The sound of drumsticks against wood filled the air around Flynn before it was joined quickly by a soft guitar, and the soft hums of three boys in perfect harmony, setting Julie up to sing.

“Sometimes I think I’m falling down, I wanna cry, I’m calling out for one more try, to feel alive.” Julie sang along, Flynn watching in awe as it seemed the light started to shift around the couches and armchairs. “And when I feel lost and alone, I know that I can make it home, right through the dark, you find the spark. Life is a risk, but I will take it, close my eyes and jump. Together I think that we can make it, come on let’s run.” Flynn let out a squeal as the guys suddenly appeared out of thin air, Alex drumming away on the table edge as Reggie and Luke sang harmonies under Julie, the latter strumming the guitar.

“And rise through the night, you and I, we will fight to shine together, bright forever.” The lyrics were distorted a little by shared laughter in the room thanks to Flynn’s squeal, but the music was still beautiful, nonetheless. “And rise through the night, you and I, we will fight to shine together, bright forever.”

On the other side of the spectral veil, Y/N sat crossed legged on the couch, reading along as the band sang, her head swaying gently as she watched them perform just for Flynn, and in some ways, her.

“In times that I doubted myself, I felt like I needed some help.” Luke sang, trying to keep his eyes on his guitar with very little success. “Stuck in my head, with nothing left.” As Reggie and Julie joined in on separate harmony lines, Luke’s eyes travelled up to Y/N’s. “I feel something around me now, it’s so unclear, lifting me out. I found the ground I'm marching on.” Luke sent a wink to Y/N, who let out a laugh. From Flynn’s point of view, it very much looked like the band’s lead guitarist had winked at a pillow.

“Y/N, I swear if you don’t start singing to at least try and become visible, you can take your compliments about my dress sense back because we can’t be friends.” Flynn spoke over the boys and Julie singing the chorus, and Y/N sat up straight, glancing down at the words on the piece of paper and looking back up at the band around her, each one of them urging her to give them something, Luke most of all. It wasn’t just the fact that Flynn wouldn’t let it go until she saw Y/N, but Luke knew how amazing she actually was.

“Come on Y/N, please?” Julie pleaded, thinking it was at least worth a shot. Y/N found herself taking a deep breath and nodding, Luke tilting his guitar to point to their starting point.

“In times that I doubted myself,” Luke began to sing with just the tap of Alex’s stick accompanying him, but on the last word a female voice arose from the air, joining on a high harmony line. “I felt like I needed some help. Stuck in my head, with nothing left.” The notes became clearer by the minute, and Flynn let out a gasp as a girl started to fade into existence. She was sat cross legged on the couch in a pretty black dress, her eyes screwed shut as she sang along with Luke, who couldn’t stop smiling at her.

“And when I feel lost and alone, I know that I can make it home.” Julie joined in for the last lines of the bridge, Luke dropping out to leave the two girls singing. “Fight through the dark and find the spark…” Y/N found her eyes finally opening on the song’s last line, glancing over to find Flynn looking straight at her, to find everyone looking straight at her. As Luke strummed the last chord of the song, Y/N flashed into thin air, the boys following soon after.

“I saw her! For a hot minute there I thought Luke had some sort of imaginaey girlfriend, maybe you guys were just letting him have his moment, but that was a whole person on that couch.” Flynn jumped up from her chair, pointing at right where she had seen Y/N, who was wide eyed and staring at the music on her lap.

How did that happen? How was she visible without Caleb’s help? It just didn’t make sense to her. And with the thought of Caleb came the harsh reminder of what she was trying to do: how she was trying to make the guys, make Luke, give up their dreams with Julie. Willie’s words were ringing her head, and they quickly had her hyperventilating.

“Y/N, hey, are you alright?” Luke asked, placing his hand on hers, and she looked up nodding quickly.

“I just…” She started, but couldn’t quite find the words.

“It’s awesome, right?” Reggie said with a grin, and she nodded slightly, knowing not to correct him.

“Girls! Girls, pizza’s here!” A man’s voice shouted from outside the studio door, Julie and Flynn sharing a glance before Julie jumped to her feet.

“I’ll see you all tomorrow?” Julie promised, and the guys nodded, waving her and Flynn off as they left for the main house.

“I… I think I ought to go as well, actually.” Y/N spoke up after a moment of silence, still trying to process what had just happened. “Someone will probably try checking on me soon, if they haven’t already.” She said, quickly getting up from the couch and placing Luke’s journal on the table. “It was… It was really nice to meet you guys.” She smiled, starting a quick walk out, the trio watching her walk through the door.

“You going to go kiss her or what, Luke?” Alex spoke up after a moment, the guitarist looking up at his bandmates, then the door, and suddenly jumping to his feet to follow Y/N out.

“Y/N, Y/N wait!” Luke called out as he ran through the door, bumping into the back of her and sending her towards the ground. In a lightning quick move, he managed to catch her before she hit concrete, looking down at her wide eyes and shocked face.

“You really ought to watch where you’re going, Denim.” She breathed out, letting Luke help her back to her feet, though the distance between them only became smaller.

“I wanted to thank you for coming tonight, properly.” Luke said softly, his hand finding hers and their fingers interlacing. Y/N looked up into his eyes, finding their lips inches from one another. It was so tempting, to just give in to her better judgement and kiss him, to tell him everything: but then everything flashed before her eyes, and she couldn’t find the courage to do it. What would he think of her, once she told him what she had helped Caleb do to them?

“Don’t do that.” She whispered softly, her heart breaking at the sight of Luke’s smile turning to a frown, a coldness worse than the winds at the beach coming over her as he took his hand from hers and moved away.

“I’m sorry I thought that was what…” Luke started, and Y/N jumped to her own defence.

“It is!” She admitted, looking down at her shoes. “Just… I’m not ready yet.” She lied, but Luke seemed to believe it wholeheartedly. “I’m sorry.” She added, more for herself than Luke: at least she would know she apologised to him.

“Don’t apologise, Y/N. There’s nothing to forgive.” Luke assured her, pulling her into a hug. She hugged him back tightly, her arms wrapping around his neck as he held her up on her tiptoes.

If only you knew, Denim… If only.

“See you around.” She said with a smile and they pulled away, Y/N capturing the image of him waving goodbye in her head as she vanished back to her room at the hotel, hoping she could just slip into her bed until morning.

A floorboard creaked behind her in the dark room, and it seemed she wouldn’t be so lucky.

“Well, hello, little sunset.”

After Julie and Y/N’s departures, the guys found themselves outside, taking turns shooting for the basketball hoop that hung just above the studio doors. Luke took a few paces back with the ball before shooting and sinking the shot, receiving a cheer from Alex while Reggie scooped up the ball from the ground, spinning it between his hands.

“Feels like we should be celebrating, or something…” Reggie said with a shrug. The night had been a success, sure, but when a night had gone well back in the 90s, they would have gone out on the strip, seen a movie, done something big to celebrate. “What do you wanna do?” He asked, but they were interrupted.

A jolt hit them all at the same time, the pain from it so severe that it sent both Reggie and Luke to the floor, and had Alex doubling over in pain.

“Not that.” The blonde muttered, holding his stomach as he tried to straighten up, the pain fading almost as soon as it arrived.

“That wasn’t like the other ones… It’s getting worse.” Luke said softly, pulling himself up from the drive-set and dusting off his trousers.

“Why is this happening to us?” Reggie asked, leaning on his knees for support as he tried to get his breath back, the confused expressions on his bandmates’ faces giving no answers whatsoever.

“It’s because you guys are in serious trouble.” Out of thin air, Willie came into view, walking towards the three boys with a look of deep concern as he saw the aftermath of a jolt. They turned to look at the intruder on their conversation, Alex taking a step forward at the appearance of his… Whatever he and Willie were.

“Willie?”

“We need to talk…”

Willie knew the best way to keep off of Caleb’s radar was to a) move during club hours and b) stay walking. He wasn’t sure how, but Caleb had a sense for when people poofed in and out of his hotel, or when one of his workers did anything.

He had done his best to explain on their walk over to the Hollywood strip, but the guys still had plenty of questions.

“So, all these jolts that we’re feeling is because Caleb put his stamp on us?” Luke had to clarify, not sure he got it quite right. He had been seeing red the whole walk over, zoning in and out of the conversation.

“He’s threatened by you!” Willie exclaimed, the quartet coming to a natural stop so Willie could lay out their situation plain and simple. “He wants you under his control. I mean, you’re the only ghosts that can be visible to lifers without his help.” Reggie was about to correct him, tell Willie about Y/N and her visibility only a few hours before, but Alex stepped up first.

“And you let him do this to us?” He asked Willie, not quite sure what to think of the handsome skater boy. Sure, he had told them what was happening, but he still helped in making it happen.

“I can’t stop him. He owns my soul!” Willie defended himself. “All right? He owns everybody’s soul at that club. If he even knew I was here talking to you he… he would destroy me…” Willie trailed off, allowing Luke to step in.

“Everybody’s soul?” He asked, Reggie and Alex sending a look his way, something close to pity. Willie just nodded. “So, was she in on it too? Did she help?” Luke demanded an answer, and Willie sighed.

“Y/N is Caleb’s right hand… She’s been at the club for a quarter century I-” Willie paused, looking down. “Look, I may have found Alex but… But I came into this unwillingly. Y/N on the other hand… She wanted the challenge… I’m sorry.”

Willie’s words hit Luke straight in his core, and he found himself walking back and leaning on the closest wall, running his fingers through his hair as he tried to come to terms with the information: Y/N wasn’t morally grey like Willie, she was straight up a bad guy, maybe even worse than Caleb. She had seen Julie and The Phantoms perform; she knew how much their music meant to every single one of them.

“So if we don’t join his club, then the weird power outage thing continues until there’s no power left at all?” Reggie asked, sending a worried glance Luke’s way, but knowing if the distraught guitarist missed something he and Alex would catch him up.

“Yes.”

“What exactly happens when the power goes out?” Reggie asked the first of his follow up questions.

“That’s… That’s it… You’re done.” Willie gulps as he spoke.

“Uh-huh. Yeah. And what exactly do you mean by ‘we’re done’?” Reggie asked again, growing impatient.

“You just!” Willie finally got to the answer the trio needed. “You don’t exist… Anymore. Not anywhere.”

“What?”

“So we have no choice?” Luke spoke up for the first time in a while, pulling himself to his feet with a wipe of his watery eyes. “We have to say goodbye to Julie, give up everything we’ve built together, and work for Caleb? Work with her?” He asked, anger bubbling over. Not just at the predicament they found themselves in, but the fact that saying her name would remind him how he felt about her: in spite of all this, he still wanted her, still liked her. “That’s some club you got going on.” He muttered when Willie hesitated on his answer.

“But there is another option. That’s why I’m here. Just… Please. Hear me out.” He pleaded when Alex rolled his eyes, the boys falling silent to let him continue. “All right. If you guys could just figure out what your unfinished business is, you do it in time, you could cross over and be free from all of this.”

“Ok, so what’s our unfinished business?” Luke asked.

“I don’t know, but since you all died at the same time, you know, it might be something you need to do together.” Willie tried to offer a suggestion, but Alex was having none of it, stepping forward to push Willie a step back.

“Ok but why should we listen to a word you say?” He asked with a scoff, only to look up and meet those big puppy dog eyes that had him falling for the skater in the first place.

“Because I care about you, Alex.” Willie admitted, and Alex backed down. “And I hate that I brought you, and your friends into this mess. I uh…” He was getting teary eyed. “I can’t be away much longer… I’m sorry. For everything.” And with that, he vanished, leaving the three bandmates on the sidewalk alone.

“This is all my fault…” Alex started, shaking his head in disbelief. “I… I met Willie, Willie introduced us to Caleb, to Y/N, and now…Now we’re screwed…” He trailed off, Luke letting out a sigh.

“We all wanted to go see Caleb… And I went back to the club to see her I…” Luke ran a hand through his hair.

“We have to go tell Julie.” Reggie added to the conversation, receiving a stern look from both Alex and Luke.

“No, we can’t do that. All this means is more loss in her life.” Luke argued. First Julie’s mom, then them? That was too much for her to bear alone. “But if we don’t want Caleb to own our souls we have to figure out our unfinished business.”

“Yeah, man. And how are we supposed to do that?” Alex asked with a shrug of his shoulders. “All right? There was so much we wanted to do.” Luke nodded in defeat, glancing just past look in search of something, anything that might make light of the situation. Instead, he did a double take at the neon sign on the strip, one he had walked past the night before. “What is it?” Alex asked.

“Yeah, but the night we died, there was one thing we all wanted to do together.” Luke walked past the pair, Reggie and Alex’s following to where Luke’s were focused.

“Play the Orpheum?” Reggie asked the rhetorical question, all three now focused on the neon blue sign across the street.

“Getting that gig was literally impossible.” Alex reminded. “Even after people knew who we were, we had to hustle, call in every favour we had. It took years.” Another jolt went through them all, as bad as the last if not worse, sending all three doubling over in pain.

“Yeah, well,” Luke coughed out, taking a moment to stand up straight again. “We don’t have years.”

Part Five is here...

Tags: @im-a-writer-right @elioelioeli0 @jenjen889 @walkingonshunshine @parkeret @lolychu @leahstypewriter @j-mar-memester @sunsetcurve-h @musicconversedance @gracefulpenguin @shae-is-not-ok @talksoprettyjjx @smol-book-nerd @lord-of-the-fried @siennanoelle01 @deadpoolgirl23 @theatricalfangirl @deepsleepnat @hhyunj1n @lovesanimals

#luke patterson #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson x y/n #jatp luke x reader #jatp luke #jatp #julie and the phantoms #fanfiction #fanfic #jatp au #reader insert #the other side of hollywood #luke patterson fluff #fluff

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trellanyx · 3 years

Text

Dark!Stolas AU

I started to send a prompt to @vizowrites after reading the latest installment of her Dark!Stolas AU, then realized I wanted to write it instead. lol This is meant to be a direct sequel to Where You Belong. Thanks for letting me play in the sandbox for a bit bb!

Fic Warnings: This is an AU where Blitzo does not want to have sex with Stolas, and only does so in order to have continued access to the grimoire. Stolas has no qualms about using this leverage to keep Blitzo in line, or ignoring Blitzo’s boundaries. Nothing sexual happens in this fic, but if you don’t like reading fics based off this premise, this isn’t for you. Like the title says, Stolas is not a good person here.

“And you,” Stolas said, his gaze flashing back to Striker with a near break-neck speed, flashing in a surge of barely contained power that still seemed to simmer just beneath the surface. “While I admire that terribly forceful nature of yours, I highly suggest that you remember just to whom you are speaking. And just to whom you owe your continued opportunities that keep your schedules oh so busy. Which reminds me, darling Blitzy….bring the book with you to our next meeting.”

“Blitzy! There you are, darling.”

Regrettably, Blitzo thought. He placed the book on its usual place on the nightstand and shucked off his coat. Stolas loved it when his favorite toy showed such ‘enthusiasm’, not noticing, or perhaps not caring, that Blitzo’s only motivation was to get the night over with as quickly as possible.

He didn’t know which option was worse.

“Look, can we skip the roleplay tonight? My back has been bitching at me all day.”

Stolas giggled. “Ah yes. Isn’t that post-coital ache just delightful? I know my best mornings always happen when I can’t walk straight.”

Blitzo rolled his eyes. In the beginning, he’d respond to comments like that with something along the lines of, “I hear a good ass whooping produces the same result”, but Stolas always interpreted those retorts as encouragement, and Blitzo eventually stopped bothering. He nodded to where Stolas was decadently sprawled along a twilight-violet chaise. “That the spot you’ve decided on?”

“As thrilling as it is to be the center of such undivided attention,” purred Stolas, “I’d actually prefer we take things slower tonight. It feels like ages since we’ve had the chance to simply…talk.” Stolas’s eyes gleamed scarlet, all four of them pinned directly on Blitzo. “Given both of our busy schedules, after all.”

Blitzo stiffened, feeling his stomach shrivel with a sudden chill of terror.

“Stolas--”

“Sit, please,” said the prince, waving a hand at a matching armchair Blitzo knew hadn’t been there a moment ago. “I’m as eager to receive your glorious cock as you are to give it to me, but another need must be satisfied first.”

The words tumbled out of Blitzo so quickly they nearly slurred together. “If this is about what happened at the office, I swear--”

“I said sit.”

Blitzo’s jaw snapped shut with an audible click. He power-walked to the chair, unwilling to risk finding out what Stolas might do if he thought Blitzo was taking too long. But Stolas only giggled again, as if seeing Blitzo so flustered was cute.

“Though since you bring it up, I would like to discuss what happened when I last tried to visit you. I fear there may be some…misunderstanding among your employees about just what our relationship is like, Blitzy.”

“We don’t have a relationship, Stolas,” snapped Blitzo. “We have an arrangement. I fuck you, you don’t fuck over my business. Cut and fucking dry.”

Stolas clucked his tongue. “Blitzy, we are lovers. You could at least try to put in a little romantic effort outside the bedroom.”

Blitzo bared his teeth. “I’m plenty romantic,” he said, in a moment of reckless defiance. “Just not with you.”

Stolas blinked, and Blitzo nearly bit through his own tongue. He did not, however, take back the words. He was engaged now, for fuck’s sake. And the memory of his fiancé almost spitting in the eyes of demon royalty was enough to give Blitzo just enough courage to wipe out his remaining fucks.

You wanna talk, bitch? Fine. Let’s talk.

Stolas tapped a claw against his thigh. “Are you now?” he asked, terribly soft. Blitzo opened his mouth to snarl back, but it hung open when Stolas suddenly beamed and said, “Why Blitzy, that’s wonderful!”

“….It is?”

“Of course!” trilled Stolas. “I’m so happy to hear there are other paramours in your life! Not surprised, of course, my dear little imp. Who could possibly resist such a beautiful and wickedly talented creature like yourself?” He laughed gaily. “I wondered why that fiery little fellow seemed so testy last we met. Jealousy, hm?” Stolas gave a sage little hoot. “I understand, Blitzy. Love makes fools of us all.”

Blitzo couldn’t help but laugh incredulously. “Striker, jealous of you? Listen bitch--”

“Blitzy, darling, it’s alright,” Stolas soothed. “I understand.”

Blitzo raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Do ya now?

“It’s not the first time I’ve been threatened over our little courtship,” said Stolas, still smiling. “At least he didn’t throw something at me! Poor Seymour,” he sighed. “Two centuries of care, gone in a blink and a crash. Fortunately my reflexes are better than my wife’s aim!”

“…Am I on drugs?” Blitzo wondered. “Is Verosika about to pop out with a horse head or somethin’? ‘Cause I’m not gonna lie, that’d actually be a pretty sweet upgrade for her.”

“Silly imp,” giggled Stolas. “Well! Now that that little bit of unpleasantness has been cleared up, I say we move on to more enjoyable activities. How about some refreshments before we start?”

Blitzo withheld a groan. Feeding each other was one of Stolas’s favorite forms of foreplay. He’d constantly nip at or suck on Blitzo’s fingers, to say nothing of how often he’d pretend to feed Blitzo a strawberry or something before replacing it with his mouth at the last second. But if it got Stolas to stop asking questions about his and Striker’s relationship, Blitzo was up for anything.

“Just no strawberries, okay? Last time they made me break out in hives.”

“Alas, tonight I’m simply thirsty.” Stolas pulled a silver bell from his robe and gave it a dainty ring. Then he winked at Blitzo and added, “Of course, that’s always my mood when you’re on my mind.”

A servant imp appeared almost instantaneously, carrying a tray with two shimmering glasses of wine.

“I really do feel much better now,” said Stolas, taking his glass.

“Good for you,” deadpanned Blitzo as the servant turned his way. “Now can we get on with--”

CRASH!

“FUCK!” Blitzo scrambled backward, tripping over the arm of the chair and falling onto the floor. His claws scratched the tile as he scooted backwards on his ass, away from the servant who was now a solid block of stone. Blitzo’s wineglass was shattered on the ground. Why…why did it look like the exact shade of blood?

Stolas took a long, indulgent sip of his own wine. “Wiggles, this is Blitzy. Blitzy, Wiggles.”

“Stolas, what the fuck?!”

“Wiggles hasn’t been with me as long as Seymour was,” Stolas continued, not needing to raise his voice to talk over Blitzo’s panicked yelling. “I daresay Wiggles isn’t even his name, but that’s neither here nor there.”

The prince unfolded his unnaturally long legs and walked around the statue of Wiggles. “He’s a good servant, as far as imps go. Obedient, polite, deferential…he knows his place in the world and is content with it. Like Seymour was.” Stolas placed a hand on the top of Wiggles’s stone head. “And like Seymour…”

Blitzo realized what was coming a split second too late. “DON’T--!”

Stolas lightly pushed, and Wiggles fell forward. There was a sick crack when the statue hit the ground, and Blitzo watched in horror as Wiggles’s now detached head lay face-first in the puddle of wine. Stolas waved his hand, and the rest of the body crumbled into dust and rubble.

“Gone in a blink and a crash,” finished Stolas.

There was no flirting or good-natured silliness to Stolas now. He stared down at Blitzo with cold disappointment. Blitzo barely dared to breathe, let alone move.

“Let’s not forget what our actual roles are, my precious little imp,” murmured Stolas. “You are exceedingly good at what you can do with your body, and because of that, I allow your little family venture to succeed. Every time you rendezvous with the world above, you pay your way with my magic. Your daughter sleeps under a roof built from my generosity. Your lover fucks you in a bed gifted by my mercy. I could rip everything away from you, Blitzo. Everything you’ve ever touched. I wouldn’t even have to leave this room.”

Stolas knelt down, ignoring the way Blitzo flinched back. “But I don’t do that, darling. Because I love you. You’ve brought excitement and joy back into my world the likes of which I haven’t felt since my daughter was born. Of all my collections and all of my toys, you are my favorite.”

A crimson glow slowly bled into existence until it outlined Stolas’s entire body. Blitzo couldn’t look away from him, and wasn’t entirely sure that Stolas wasn’t making that possible. The air seemed to constrict around him, making his temples pound and his nose bleed.

“What you do with your time is your own business, Blitzo. But when I call on you, full moon or not, I expect you to answer,” whispered Stolas. The use of Blitzo’s full name stung him like a brand. “When I ask for privacy, I expect to not be interrupted. Above all, I expect you to make sure your associates know their place around us – and mind it. Do you understand?”

Blitzo jerked his head in as much of a nod as he could manage.

“They may hiss and spit all they like, but they will stay out of our way. Else I will remove them myself, and I will make you watch. Do you understand?”

Another nod.

“Say it, Blitzy.”

“…I understand,” said Blitzo through gritted teeth. The moment he did, the air returned to normal, leaving Blitzo gasping for air like a drowning man. Stolas finished his wine, and looked out the balcony window behind Blitzo.

“Ah! And there’s the moon. What a beautiful sight – not as lovely as you, of course.” Stolas cupped Blitzo’s cheek, looking at him with a familiar expression of lust. “Come darling,” he purred. “The night is still young, after all.”

#helluva boss #blitzo #stolas #helluva boss stolas #helluva boss blitzo #vizowrites #felt like stretching my evil writing muscles lol #thanks for letting me borrow him vizo!#does blitzo try to lay low or does he immediately go home that night like BABE GET YER RIFLE WE'RE GOING OWL HUNTING #it's up to you XD

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tsarisfanfiction · 3 years

Text

Long Way From Home: Chapter 14

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Family/Friendship Characters: Scott, Tracy Family

Forgot to post this last night, whoops, but in my defence I am absolutely drowning under uni work at the moment, so I’m quite surprised I even had the energy to proof read and post tonight...

<<<Chapter 13

The table was already piled high with steaming food when they entered the room, but Scott’s attention was more taken by the man sat at the head. Not-Dad caught his eye and gestured to the seat at his right. Scott hadn’t planned to sit near the man if he could help it, but it appeared the patriarch had other ideas.

Swallowing down his reluctance, he crossed the floor, greeting Mrs Tracy, who was attempting to set the table even as Tin-Tin tried to persuade her gently to take her own seat, and took the offered chair.

Steely grey eyes swept up and down his outfit, and Not-Dad’s mouth settled into a thin line, but much to Scott’s relief he didn’t comment. Not directly, at least.

“I see you had a successful trip,” he said. Scott shrugged.

“Fashion here’s different,” he said, glancing over as the rest of the family took their seats, Other-Virgil slipping in before Other-Kyrano finished bringing the food over to the table. “As you’ve no doubt noticed.”

“That I have,” Not-Dad agreed. “At least no-one outside of this organisation will be seeing you, so now you have your own clothes I suppose you can dress as you wish.” He still sounded somewhat dubious about it, but Scott would take what he could get.

“Those were my thoughts, too, Father,” Other-Scott joined in, from where he was sat a little way down the table between Other-Virgil and Mrs Tracy. “He might as well be comfortable while he’s here.”

“Indeed,” Not-Dad said. “I have informed some trusted friends of your predicament in the hopes of increasing our chances of getting you home, and locating anyone else who may have come through. I am sure their names will be familiar to you; as I recall, you mentioned a ‘Lady P’ earlier?”

Had he? Scott didn’t remember everything that he’d said to the man, but that seemed likely enough. He nodded.

“I assume that refers to our London agent, Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward,” Not-Dad continued. “She has been made aware and intends to visit in the near future.”

Scott felt a flash of frustration that things were being organised over his head – or behind his back, maybe – but buried it deep with the reminder that here, he wasn’t Commander. He wasn’t anything, except someone in need of rescuing, and this man next to him was the man in charge of the organisation trying to get him home.

“Yeah, we have a Lady Penelope,” he confirmed. “And Parker?”

“A fine butler,” Not-Dad agreed.

Scott nodded awkwardly, a little unsure at the way Not-Dad’s first description for him was ‘butler’. It wasn’t inaccurate, but to him, Parker was so much more than just Lady Penelope’s butler, and he wasn’t sure if that was a relationship that had carried over.

Lady Penelope and Parker had been invaluable after the Zero-X, after all.

Scott cut that train of thought off out of habit before it could spiral too far. The last thing he needed to do was start crying about Dad while sat next to his doppelgänger in another universe.

He was saved from any further awkward conversation by Other-Kyrano announcing that the dinner was ready and inviting them to help themselves.

“Thank you, Kyrano,” Not-Dad said, before picking up a platter of carved meat and offering it to Scott. For his part, Scott was looking at the large, homemade spread and trying not to drool at the prospect of edible food.

“Thanks,” he said, helping himself to a few slices. That appeared to be the cue for everyone else to tuck in, and Scott found himself part of a full dining table for the first time in a long time. Other-John was absent, of course, no doubt squirrelled away on Thunderbird Five eating rehydrated food, and it was obvious that this Tracy family, too, had lost their mom, but with the Kyranos and even Other-Brains apparently resurfacing when he hadn’t been looking, not to mention Not-Dad, it felt like the sort of meal Scott hadn’t been able to have in eight years, and had thought he’d never have again.

He took a large bite of the food to stop his rising emotions overflowing. Other-Alan, sitting opposite him, shot him an unimpressed look but thankfully seemed too busy listening to Tin-Tin next to him to comment.

“Magnificent as always, Kyrano,” Not-Dad announced after a few moments, which seemed to be the cue for the rest of the family to interject with their own praise. Scott was more than happy to join in, which got several pairs of eyes on him, seeming like they were gauging how genuine he was. Only Tin-Tin had a knowing, and slightly sad, smile on her face.

“Say,” Other-Alan cut in, “how does this compare to what you normally eat? Our Kyrano’s the better cook, isn’t he?”

It was a loaded question, and Scott narrowed his eyes at him.

“Alan, that’s enough of that,” Not-Dad said. “There’s to be no comparison of which universe is ‘better’, you hear me?”

“Yes, Father,” Other-Alan frowned. “But I can’t be the only one that wants to know what he really thinks of the food.”

“Alan!” Other-Scott added in, but Scott shrugged.

“It’s the best homemade meal I’ve had in years,” he said honestly, nodding at Other-Kyrano, who seemed flustered at the praise. “None of us can cook half as well back home.”

“Not even your Kyrano?” Other-Alan pressed, despite the sharp snap of his name from Not-Dad.

“Alan,” Tin-Tin interjected gently, putting a hand on his arm. He ignored her, too, and light blue eyes pinned Scott where he sat.

Scott took another mouthful of the mouth-wateringly good food and swallowed it before answering.

“Kyrano hasn’t lived with us for years,” he said simply. “It’s just the four of us – five when John’s down – with Grandma, Brains and Kayo – she’s our Tin-Tin – on the island.”

There was silence, and he took the chance to help himself to more of the food on the central platters. It really was good, and if he was eating, he could at least pretend he wasn’t the focus of several varyingly sympathetic looks.

“Where did he go, if you don’t mind my asking, sir?” It was Other-Kyrano who asked, and Scott tried not to react to being called sir.

He shrugged again. “None of us know,” he admitted between mouthfuls. “He retired and vanished. Kayo tries to get in contact with him every now and then, but as far as I know she’s never been successful.”

Scott could feel the elephant in the room, the question on all their tongues even though none of them – not even the otherwise abrasive Other-Alan – wanted to be the one to say it. He sighed and speared a section of meat with his fork, knowing that the question wouldn’t go away until he addressed it.

“Yes,” he said, “it was just after we lost Dad.” He shoved the fork into his mouth and chewed aggressively on the meat, staring down at his plate rather than facing anyone at the table. A hand landed on his right shoulder, presumably belonging to Other-Gordon, who was sat immediately next to him, but no-one said anything in response.

After a moment, Not-Dad cleared his throat. “Brains, how are you doing with the research?” he asked.

“O-oh!” The scientist jumped, clearly not expecting to be addressed, and Scott sent him a mental apology for being the reason he was suddenly the centre of attention even though he was impatient for updates on that front, too. “I, uh, have gathered a-all the data I, uh, can detect from, uh, Thunderbird One’s hangar w-where Scott, uh, appeared,” Other-Brains said, putting his cutlery down as he spoke. “There appears to be a-an, uh, anomaly of some sort in the, uh, atmospheric r-readings but I, uh, haven’t b-been able to, uh, isolate the c-cause yet.”

“But wouldn’t the cause be the collision that brought him through?” Other-Virgil asked.

“T-that would be the, uh, logical assumption,” Other-Brains agreed, “but, I’d, uh, like some m-more data before I, uh, conclude that for, uh, certain.”

Scott was caught with a mouth full of vegetables when bespectacled eyes found him from the other end of the table, where Other-Brains was sitting between Tin-Tin and Other-Kyrano. “I, uh, would like to run some, uh, samples from you to, uh, isolate the a-anomaly from your, uh, home u-universe,” the scientist continued.

Scott swallowed the food. “Whatever you need,” he agreed eagerly. Maybe a little desperately. “Just say when you want them.”

“I’ll, uh, let you know,” Other-Brains promised. It wasn’t ideally the answer Scott was looking for – a definitive time would have been nice – but it was something and he nodded in acknowledgement.

That seemed to be the cue for the hubbub of conversation to start up again. Scott stayed out of it, content to eat and listen, and at the head of the table, Not-Dad seemed likewise content to listen to what his sons were saying as they started talking about what seemed to be normal, everyday things. Scott had the context for none of it and was unsurprisingly completely at a loss as to what any of them were talking about.

Tin-Tin and Mrs Tracy seemed to be holding a conversation about fashion and something that sounded like Pennylon, which Scott assumed was a brand or something, while the brothers engaged in some apparently long-standing banter, although he definitely heard billiards and bet in the hubbub.

Nothing was said about International Rescue, and Scott wondered if that was because he was there, even though he’d sat in on one of their debriefs, or if this family also had a ban on talking business over meals. It was probably the latter.

“Gordon,” Not-Dad said suddenly, cutting into the conversation. “What’s this about a bet I hear?”

The son in question grinned, and further down the table, Other-Scott rolled his eyes.

“It’s not a real one, Father,” Other-Gordon said. “But with Scott here wanting clothes that our Scott wouldn’t normally buy, we had to come up with a reason for his sudden change in taste.”

“So he claimed I bet he couldn’t beat the whole family at billiards,” Other-Scott added. “A bet that I apparently lost, with those clothes as my forfeit.”

Not-Dad chuckled, startling Scott, who hadn’t heard anything except stern patriarch from the man since he’d first met him. Suddenly he seemed a lot more like Dad, and a lump formed in his throat. Scott hurried to put another mouthful of food in his mouth to have a reason for his need to swallow.

“He did, did he?” the older man said. “How many times have you played him so far today?”

“I stopped counting after twelve,” Other-Scott said.

“I see,” Not-Dad mused. “And how many times has he won?” Even Scott could tell he knew what the answer was going to be before it was uttered, but Other-Scott said it anyway.

“Not even once.”

“Maybe we should play chess after dinner instead,” Other-Gordon suggested. His brother laughed.

“But chess wasn’t the bet, was it, Gordon?”

“I think you’ve made your point,” the ginger sulked.

“I’m glad you think so,” Other-Scott said sunnily. “Maybe that’ll teach you to make outlandish claims.”

“I didn’t see you making any suggestions to the contrary,” Other-Gordon pointed out. Sat between them, Other-Virgil’s head was swivelling like an umpire at a tennis match. Conversation across the rest of the table had died down, leaving the two of them the only ones talking.

Two brothers sniping at each other was familiar, and Scott buried himself in the delicious food to try and distract himself from the fact that at home, it would be his brothers sniping at each other, and he might even be involved himself.

No-one seemed to notice his retreat from the conversation, or at least had the manners not to comment on it if they did, and he kept quiet for the rest of the main course.

Dessert passed in much the same manner, with Grandma presenting a gigantic chocolate gateau piled high with fresh strawberries and cream. The entire table fell upon it with gusto, Scott very much included. The ones he picked up from Paris, while the best of professional baking, just weren’t the same as homemade.

“So,” Not-Dad said, once the plates were all licked clean and Other-Kyrano and Mrs Tracy were bustling around in the kitchen, having cleared the crockery. Tin-Tin had also got up to help them, but none of the others had moved, so Scott took the cue to stay where he was. “What do you boys have planned for the evening?”

“I’ll be continuing with drawing Scott’s brothers,” Other-Virgil said.

“Drawing his brothers?” Not-Dad asked, and he nodded.

“They don’t look identical to us,” Other-Gordon chipped in, “so Virgil’s working with Scott to get portraits together for our reference.”

“I see,” Not-Dad said, and Scott found himself being regarded by the man again. “I’d like to see those once they’re completed.”

“Yes, Father,” Other-Virgil agreed.

“He won’t let any of us see them yet,” Other-Gordon complained.

“I told you,” the artist said, yet again. “Once they’re coloured, and not one moment before.”

A steaming cup of coffee appeared in front of Scott, and he glanced up to see Tin-Tin smiling at him. Not wanting to interrupt the conversation now going on between Not-Dad and his sons about the portraits Other-Virgil was working on, he nodded at her in thanks.

Similar cups were finding their way in front of everyone at the table, and Scott assumed a post-meal coffee was part of the routine here. Once everyone was served, Tin-Tin, Other-Kyrano and Mrs Tracy returned to the table with their own drinks and a platter of home-baked cookies.

Tasting the coffee, Scott was pleased to discover Tin-Tin had clearly remembered how he liked it from earlier. The proffered cookies were just as delicious as the cake had been, and by the time they’d finished drinking and eating, Scott was feeling pleasantly full.

He was going to have to make sure he went for his morning run, especially if this was always how they ate here.

“Are you ready to carry on with the portraits?” Other-Virgil asked him after all the cups on the table had been drained dry and the hubbub of conversation had faded away, and he made his way to his feet.

“Sure,” he answered. “Lead the way.”

Other-Virgil’s room was full of frosted glass panels, or so it seemed as Scott followed him inside. Books, on what appeared to be a variety of subjects from art techniques and historic artists to music to what Scott assumed were engineering manuals, lined alcoves in the wall opposite the bed. They were familiar in topic, if not in the particular titles, to the sorts of things he was used to finding in his Virgil’s room.

“Why don’t you pull up a chair?” Other-Virgil invited, nodding at a wooden chair sitting innocuously in the corner as he perched himself on his bed. The sketchbook from earlier had had the respective pages neatly torn out, and Scott caught a glimpse of John’s sketch taped to a large board. Various colouring pencils surrounded the artist where he sat, and Scott obediently retrieved the chair in question to put it down next to the bed so he could see what Other-Virgil was doing.

“What do you want to start with?” he asked, looking at the greyscale picture of his brother and trying to imagine it coloured in. As John was the last brother he’d seen – albeit holographically – before ending up in the wrong universe, it was almost painfully easy to bring him to mind.

“Well, we might as well start with the skin,” Other-Virgil said. “Darker or paler than you?”

That was a good reference point to start with, Scott figured. “Paler,” he replied. “Quite a bit paler. He’s ginger and lives in space most of the time, so he doesn’t get much sun.”

Other-Virgil hummed thoughtfully, fingers dancing over a selection of pencils but not actually selecting one to start. “Do you remember our John well enough to know which one’s darker or paler?” he asked.

“I can’t say I was paying much attention to that,” Scott admitted, wracking his brain to remember how pale Other-John had been. “Mine’s maybe a little paler?”

Other-Virgil nodded and finally selected a pencil. “Say,” he began as he started lightly colouring. “When you say he’s in space most of the time – don’t you fellas have a rotation for Thunderbird Five?”

“A rotation?” Scott tried to imagine telling John he had to share his ‘bird with someone else on a regular basis – someone who wasn’t EOS – and failed miserably. John would probably lock down Thunderbird Five and refuse entry to anyone if Scott so much as breathed a notion about sharing space monitor duty regularly. “No, John’s up there most of the year. He’s happiest there, so it works out.”

“But aren’t there health detriments to staying in space for so long?” Other-Virgil asked, and Scott winced.

“A few,” he admitted, “but we’ve done what we can with our technology to minimise them, and it’s not unusual for John to come down for a few days if we’re quiet. We can route the calls straight to Tracy Island if necessary, although the signal isn’t as good and we’re more liable to miss things.” He frowned thoughtfully. “You guys have a rotation?”

Other-Virgil nodded as he set down the pencil he was using and selected another one. Scott peered at the canvas; John’s sketch did look remarkably pale, but the pencil Other-Virgil had selected seemed slightly darker so maybe he planned to layer it up. “John and Alan switch every month, or near enough,” he explained. Scott recalled Other-Alan’s surprising agreement to Other-John’s declaration that he wanted telemetry – it made a lot more sense now. “But John tends to do slightly longer spells than Alan, and very rarely Scott takes a turn if one of them can’t.”

Scott couldn’t imagine sitting up in Thunderbird Five for an entire month, on space monitor duty. He’d done short spells of a couple of days, and that was more than enough for him.

“How does this look so far?” Other-Virgil asked after a few more moments, putting his pencil down and turning the board until Scott could look at it properly. “Too pale?”

Scott peered at it again, but without the vibrant hair or piercing eyes, judging the skin colour was a lot harder than he’d expected it to be.

“Maybe a little?” he offered, a bit uncertainly.

“How about we move on to his hair for now?” Other-Virgil suggested. “You say he’s ginger?”

Scott nodded. “Very striking,” he confirmed. “Brighter than your Gordon’s.”

Other-Virgil selected a pencil and made some firm strokes across the curl above John’s forehead. “Like this?”

“Something like that, yeah,” Scott confirmed, watching the almost orange pencil continue to follow the sweep of John’s hair. Other-Virgil nodded in acknowledgement, and settled in to keep colouring the hair. He didn’t seem to have any difficulty with the colour; Scott didn’t have to make any corrections, only a couple of confirmations when asked, during the entire process.

Then it was time for his eyes, and this particular little brother of his had never had the easiest eyes to describe, not helped by the fact that Scott saw them through a blue-tinted hologram far more frequently than he actually saw them in person.

“Blue turquoise or green turquoise?” Other-Virgil asked after his initial attempt, and Scott hesitated. They always looked almost blue in the hologram, but then the hologram itself was blue, so…

“Green?” he hedged. “Maybe?”

Other-Virgil seemed slightly amused at his inability to remember the exact colour, if the uptick to his lips was any indication, but dutifully selected a few pencils in the blue-green area, as best Scott could tell, and started adding in flecks to the irises.

Seeing his brother come to life from the paper as Other-Virgil added more and more detail with the pencils brought that lump back in his throat, which Scott swallowed around in the hopes of pushing it down before Other-Virgil looked up and noticed.

No such luck, apparently, as brown eyes glanced up at him and gained a sympathetically concerned look.

“Are you okay?” Other-Virgil asked, setting the pencil and board down and twisting to look at him properly.

“I’m fine,” Scott insisted, but he could tell Other-Virgil wasn’t convinced in the slightest.

“You know,” he said gently, “we don’t have to do this all now.”

It was very reminiscent of Other-Gordon’s attitude during their shopping trip, and Scott slouched back on the chair.

“You need to know who you’re looking out for,” he pointed out. “We’ve already established I can’t describe them well enough, so this is the only way we’ve got.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Other-Virgil allowed, “but that doesn’t mean you have to push yourself so hard.”

“They’re my brothers,” Scott snapped back, harsher than he intended. “If they’re somehow here-”

“I understand,” Other-Virgil interjected. Startled at the interruption, Scott’s mouth clicked shut. “Gordon’s right; you’re just like our Scott, and we know how overprotective over us he gets.” A hand landed on his shoulder, and those deep brown eyes searched his. For what, Scott wasn’t sure. “If your brothers are somehow here, we will find them. John’s already listening out, and I’m sure your brothers are smart enough to get themselves somewhere where they can be easily found by the right people. What we’re doing will help, I agree, but if they’re here, it’s not what will find them.”

Scott grit his jaw.

“I have to do something,” he said. A measure of desperation bled through into his voice.

“Look after yourself,” Other-Virgil told him, not unkindly. “That’s what your brothers will want.” Scott looked up at him, startled, and Other-Virgil held his gaze steadily. “I’m sure that, if you’re like Scott, I must be like your brother, too,” he continued. “Look after yourself. Let us help you.”

His hair was different, but his eyes were just the same.

Other-Gordon had said the same thing. Scott wondered if he was in for a similar speech from all of them at one point or another.

“I have to do this,” he said, leaning forwards and gesturing at the still-uncoloured sketches of his three youngest brothers. “I have to.”

Other-Virgil surveyed him for a moment, but must have seen something in his face, because he nodded and pulled his hand back.

“I understand,” he said. “So, would you say we’re done with your John?” He picked up the coloured picture and showed it to Scott.

It was definitely John. The sketch had caught his likeness perfectly, but with the addition of the colours, it was really him.

“Yeah,” he said, around that lump that seemed determined to appear in his throat at any reminder of his brothers. “That’s him.”

Other-Virgil took a moment to look at the finished drawing, and Scott wondered what he was thinking. Whatever thoughts were running through his head, though, he didn’t say them and after a moment set the image aside. It was Virgil’s sketch that he prepped next.

It had to be weird, Scott thought as they started the same process again, for the brown-haired man to know he was colouring in a version of himself from another universe – that hopefully, if Scott really was the only one to have fallen through, he would never meet. Still, Other-Virgil seemed well enough up to the challenge, even if he raised an eyebrow upon Scott’s confirmation that yes, Virgil’s hair was black and not just a very dark brown.

The eyes, at least, were slightly easier. Unlike with Other-John and John, where the former he’d only seen through various sized screens and hadn’t been able to get any real gauge on the exact shade of his eyes, Other-Virgil – as well as Other-Gordon and Other-Alan – had the exact same eyes as Scott’s own brothers.

Other-Virgil, entirely understandably in Scott’s opinion, spent several minutes studying the finished drawing once Scott proclaimed it accurate, but just as with John’s portrait, kept his opinions to himself.

It was dark outside Other-Virgil’s bedroom window by the time all of the sketches were coloured. Instinctively, Scott looked at his wrist for the time, only to be stymied by the analogue dial he’d yet to get anyone to explain to him.

“It’s getting late,” Other-Virgil commented, seemingly only just noticing how dark it was even though he’d turned the lights on about halfway through colouring Alan’s. “Should we show the fellas now or in the morning?”

“Might as well do it now, if they’re still up,” Scott shrugged. “What is the time, anyway?”

“Aren’t you wearing Scott’s watch?” Other-Virgil asked, and Scott sighed.

“Yeah, but I can’t read it,” he admitted. “We haven’t used this system in half a century back home.”

“Do you want me to talk you through it now?” Other-Virgil offered, setting the drawings aside and leaning forwards. “It shouldn’t be too complicated for you, I shouldn’t think.”

Scott glanced down at the dial, taunting him with numbers and spokes he couldn’t quite decipher. “That would help,” he admitted, extending his wrist. “So, what am I looking at here?”

Other-Virgil shuffled closer and caught his forearm to steady it. “Well, each point on the edge of the face are the hours, with twelve at the top, followed by one on the immediate right,” he said, pointing at the points in question. Scott nodded. “The shorter hand is the hour hand, and it points at the hour. If it’s pointing between numbers, like it is right now” – it was between the nine and the ten markers – “the hour is the one it’s passed. That makes it nine, here.” Scott nodded again.

“The other hands,” he started, assuming all of the long thin spokes coming from the centre had the same term. “Minutes and seconds?”

“That’s correct,” Other-Virgil confirmed. “The wider, slower, hand is the minutes. Each hour point is five minutes apart for the minute hand, starting from the top of the dial.”

Scott did a quick count. The minute hand was lurking down by the seven hour point, so that meant, “it’s nine thirty-five?”

“That’s right,” Other-Virgil told him. “But we normally say twenty-five to ten. Once it’s past the half hour, we say ‘to’ the hour, rather than ‘past’ the hour.”

That was unnecessarily complicated, in Scott’s opinion. “I’ll try to remember that,” he said out loud, watching the third, slender, hand move around. That was presumably the second hand. “Seconds are counted the same way as minutes?”

“They are, yes,” he was told, Other-Virgil looking quite pleased. “I didn’t think you’d have any trouble with it. Say, what do you fellas use?” He let go of Scott’s wrist.

“Numbers,” Scott shrugged, letting his hand fall back into his lap. “Computers update the time every second or minute, depending on the clock, so we just have to read out the numbers.”

“Computers do that?” Other-Virgil asked. Scott found himself surprisingly relieved that the other man seemed to at least know what a computer was. “That sounds very complicated for something as simple as keeping time.”

Scott shrugged. “It’s simple enough for us to use,” he said.

“Well, I suppose it’s what you’re used to,” Other-Virgil commented. “The other fellas should still be up, so we can show them the portraits of your brothers now.” Scott watched him gather up the four drawings and made his own way to his feet, putting the chair back in the corner where it had been earlier.

Chapter 15>>>

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #tsari writes fanfiction #scott tracy #long way from home #jeff tracy #virgil tracy #alan tracy #gordon tracy #kyrano #tin-tin kyrano #brains #grandma tracy

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marauder-exe · 4 years

Text

Christmas break- Fred Weasley x Reader

Request: 84 & 92 from the 2nd prompt list with Fred Weasley

Prompts: 84. “No, mom, don’t tell him/her I said that about him/her!”

92.”I love you in every possible way.”

Word Count: 2k

a/n: The confession scene under the stars was inspired by a fic I read a while ago where Fred proposes under the stars near the burrow! Although I cant remember the name:/

also i’d love some feedback if you guys don’t mind, you can drop it in my asks or inbox or whatever, i feel like my writing is getting a little repetitive

During Christmas break you had arranged to stay over at the Burrow with the Weasleys. Your family had decided to go on a cruise for your parents anniversary, so Mrs. Weasley gladly took you in for the break. You hadn't told Fred though, you wanted to surprise him. It was actually surprising he hasn't noticed you where keeping it a secret from him. He usually figured out your secrets within 0.2 seconds, having been best friends for the last 5 years, it wast really a surprise. So, just before your parents left for their cruise, they had driven you to Ottery St. Catchpole. Being muggle-born, they where very wary of you using magic.

So, as you pulled up to the burrow, you gave your parents a hug and a quick kiss, saying goodbye. You where far too excited to spend your Christmas break here. You had spent the previous night imagining all the scenarios that could happen over the next few weeks. It made you sad to be honest, knowing that they most likely wouldn't happen. But you could hope. You hurriedly knocked on the Weasleys door, waving a final goodbye as your parents got into the car.

Inside the burrow, Mrs Weasley was cleaning up from cooking, her family sat at the table eating, when she heard the knock on the door, she could only assume was you.

“Aww, Fred get the door please, im busy” Mrs Weasley huffed while all his siblings giggled at the table. Did he miss something? He gave his twin a confused look but brushed it off.

“Who is it, we aren't expecting anyone?” He wondered aloud.

“(Y/N)” She stated promptly, throwing a smile at him, preparing for what he would say next.

“WHAT!” He jumped from his seat. The last thing he wanted was to spend his Christmas break with her. Not in a mean way, he loved her and all but that was the problem. He was in love with her. He usually spent his Christmas fantasizing about what it would be like to be in a relationship with her, love her wholly and fully, have a life with her. He was excited, obviously to spend his Christmas with her, but Christmas meant gifts, then he had to get a gift that conveys ‘Ive been secretly in love with you since the day I lay eyes on you but I don't want to tell you in case I ruin our relationship so im going to wait for any smidgen of a hint that you like me, so I don't screw anything up and if that doesn't come then ill wait it out till you get a boyfriend, then ill cry and eat chocolate with George and try to get over it’ vibes, which was hard.

George interrupted his panicked thoughts. “Yeah! Mum invited her over to tell her all about how you drool all over her and daydream about herrrrr ”

“And how her eyes are so god damn dreamy” Ron and Harry had joined in and soon the whole table was reciting Fred's love lines.

“No! Mum don't tell her I said that about her!” He insisted. This had been going on for around 5 minutes while you where still stood outside, so you gave another quick knock on the door, as it was snowing and bloody freezing.

“Get the door!”

“Yeah, don't want to keep the love of your life waiting” Ron said dreamily, but Fred just threw a bread roll at him. He trudged towards the door, conflicted emotions but heart beating with excitement. He opened the door, there you stood, beanie on, snowflakes in your hair, basking in the moonlight, more beautiful than he had ever seen you. He was snapped from his trance by you, enthusiastically throwing your arms around him.

“Freddie! Surprise!” You hugged him and held tightly, having missed him.

“Blimey” He stumbled back from the force of your hug, but grabbed you protectively. “Its only been a week, you missed me that much?” He was right, your break from Hogwarts came about two weeks before Christmas, meaning one week to go. You subconsciously glanced at your case, wondering if he'd like your present.

“Of course I have Freddie! Couldn't live without my partner in crime!” She stated enthusiastically before they heard George shout from the kitchen. “What about me?!” You two laughed it off. You walked into the kitchen, Fred offering to carry your bags.

“How are my favourite gingers doing, and of course Harry?” They cheered as you walked into the kitchen, they all hugged you one by one, and you thanked Mrs Weasley profusely, but she just brushed it off.

“You'll be in the twins room” She smiled, Ron quietly wolf whistled in the background, causing Harry to laugh and Ginny to smack him on the shoulder, hiding a small smile. Fred nudged you.

“Wanna put your stuff upstairs?” He questioned and you nodded, he grabbed your stuff and started heading upstairs, with whoops and cheers behind you from the boys, while Mrs Weasley tried to calm them down.

When you where close to his room you asked the question that had been on your mind. “What was all the cheering about when they mentioned me sleeping in your room?” You questioned innocently.

“uh...” Fred felt a blush creeping up his neck. “its just, they know we’ll be sleeping in the bed, and you know how boys are”

It had never occurred to you that you'd be sleeping in the same bed, the thought made your heart speed up, you assumed you'd be sleeping on the floor.

“Unless of course you don't want to share a bed, id be fine sleeping on the floor” He said smiling.

“Don't be silly, of course we can sleep in the same bed, come on!” You raced him to the top of the stairs, both laughing like crazy.

The next week leading up to Christmas went crazily quickly. And the first night sleeping in Fred's bed with him was possibly a Christmas miracle, at least that's what it felt like. You guys where cuddled up, obviously George had given you the ‘no shagging while im asleep next to you two’ talk. But honestly, it felt right, being there with him. You tried to convince yourselves you where just friends, but that was never the case.

And so the day of Christmas came, and the entire Weasley family and their guests where so excited. Molly had helped Fred pick out something he knew you'd love. So the crackers where opened and candy canes eaten, and it was time to open the presents, you and Fred had waited last to give yours to each other. After everyone had finished giving gifts, they turned to you two expectantly. You ran to your suitcase, gently picking up the box, and Fred went to get his present. You'd returned to the living room, adorned In your own honorary Weasley jumper, clutching the present.

“Ill give yours first?” You asked, he nodded and you handed over the present. He carefully unwrapped it, savouring every moment. He flipped open the lid, and stared at the glinting ring.

“See, its a ring, but it has the first words you ever said to me on it” You giggled, the ring had the first words he had said to you on that train in first year. ‘Blimey, your gorgeous. Wait, what?’ The Weasleys laughed at the fond memory, and Mrs Weasley recalled all the letters she received that year, about the pretty Gryffindor that he was enchanted by.

“(Y/N), i-” He was honestly speechless.

“Oh and also!” She bounced excitedly “Its charmed to show a different picture of us and glows every time you think of mwah!” She giggled and mockingly flipped her hair. God she was perfect. He hugged her, tighter than he'd ever hugged her before. He whispered a quiet ‘thank you’ in your ear, you kissed his cheek and giggled, adding an ‘of course Freddie’. They pulled away and it was Fred's turn to give you his gift. Mr and Mrs Weasley where already tearing up at the scene in front them. Fred delicately handed you a similar box, you slowly ripped away the gold wrapping. Flipping the lid of the white box, sat a ring similar to the one you gave him, but as well as gold it had a purple stripe (your favourite colour) and a green stripe (his favourite colour). You stared at it, it was so beautiful.

“Its a promise ring” He began to explain. “i promise to always be...” He paused, breath hitched in his throat. Your faces where astonishingly close. “Your best friend” He breathed out. It honestly felt like a dagger in the chest, for both of you. You stared into each others eyes, desperately waiting, wanting, willing something to happen. Until you snapped away at the sound of Ron couching and Mrs Weasley shouting everyone for dinner.

Later that night, after dinner and the sun set, You and Fred had decided to go and watch the stars. A comforting act in itself but felt suddenly romantic with Fred. You two lay on a hill at the back of the burrow. Your head on his arm, cuddled up into him. You pointed out a star, Sirius.

“See that one?” You pointed towards the brightest star in the sky. Fred reached past your hand and pointed somewhere in the sky, that was definitely not where you where pointing.

“That one?”

You grabbed his wrist and moved to point it at the star. “See, Sirius, my uncles named after that star, ya know. Isn't it beautiful?” You questioned but Fred wasn't listening any more. Any thoughts of the stars had been discarded, he was only looking at you.

“Yeah, yeah it is beautiful” A small smile lit up his face as he stared at you in the moonlight.

You giggled as you saw Fred's ring glow brighter than any star in the sky. “Freddie, you rings glowi-” You turned to look at him but he was already staring. “What's up?” You questioned, a concerned look on your face.

“i love you in every possible way” He was still staring, a peaceful glint in his eye. Your heart stopped, your breath hitched. What did he just say? You sat up on your elbows and turned to look at him.

“What-” you whispered quietly.

“i love you (Y/N)” He matched your position on his elbows. “Ive loved you since that day I stepped foot into your carriage on the train and accidentally called you gorgeous. Ive loved you since you stood up against that Slytherin in second year. Ive loved you since you played that prank on Snape in third year. Ive loved you since you gave Hermione advice about her crush on Draco in 4th year. I love you under the sun and under the stars, in the Burrow or in Hogwarts or anywhere. I love you now and ill love you forever. I don't care if it ruins our friendship any more because I want you and only you.” You where brought to tears by his speech, and so where all the Weasleys who where watching from the kitchen windows. You threw your arms around him and kissed him. Pouring all the tears and bottled up feelings into the kiss.

“Of course I love you back Freddie, you idiot!” You jumped on top of him and he began giggling, you burst out in a fit of giggles. Mr. and Mrs Weasley watched from the kitchen, knowing his son had finally found the one. That was the most magical and memorable Christmas of your life.

#fred weasley #fred #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasley fanfiction #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #dramione

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ressyfaerie · 3 years

Note

I’d like to request a Brooklyn x Tyson fic! I recently had the idea of Brooklyn developing a crush on Tyson, since he was the first person to try to be his friend. But I couldn’t think of how to write this myself. I’m curious if Tyson could come to return the feelings of someone who almost killed someone so dear to him.

Okay uh- I got really carried away with this one! Man it was good! I formed a lot of opinions as I wrote this I hope it’s to your liking! You mentioned if I thought Tyson could return the feelings of someone who almost killed someone so dear to him so I added a bit of that spice in there! Hope you enjoy :) It sorta turned into a full fic WHOOPS. Anything in * are Tyson’s private thoughts!

The party was a great success.

Mr. Dickenson was very impressed with his work. He had made a great area under the bridge beside the small BBA headquarters, well headquarters is putting it nicely, it’s a decent sized shack.

So he was understandably nervous when he invited all the teams to a large summer party.

To his surprise, almost everyone showed up, it brought a massive smile to his old face.

The Bladebreakers helped a lot, Hilary hung up lanterns and decorations, Kenny and Max catered food, and Ray and Tyson sent out invites and dealt with the technical stuff.

“Wow even Kai came!”

“Of course Kai would come you crazy old man.” Hiro stood beside Mr. Dickenson with his arms crossed, not exactly happy to be there.

“Of course? He’s a loner isn’t he?” Mr. Dickenson questioned.

“Not since the fall of BEGA, he’s stuck to the Bladebreakers like glue. It’s annoying seeing him in the Dojo with his friends whenever I go there.”

“It’s nice to hear the words ‘Kai’ and ‘friends’ in the same sentence.” Mr. Dickenson smiled ignoring Hiro’s previous statements.

“Even Brooklyn’s here!” Mr. Dickenson clapped his hands together with glee looking into the crowd at the flash of orange hair.

“Yeah being a rebel as usual.” Hiro rolled his eyes.

Brooklyn was smiling while talking to members of the white tigers. Everyone seemed to be on edge with his team's appearance, but since BEGA it seemed to be mutually decided to let them back into the beyblade community, forgetting the past.

“How’s he doing?” Mr. Dickenson’s eyebrows knit together in concern.

“Alright. Training him is tough, as usual. He’s on meds now, and seeing a psychologist. I would like to say he’s getting there, but he’s not even close.”

Mr. Dickenson nodded, acknowledging, but not showing any emotion, he didn’t know what emotions to show or feel, he tilted his head realizing that’s how Brooklyn thought all the time.

He finally decided on a response.

“He looks happy.”

Hiro shrugged, “we will never truly know. Boris did a number on an already ill child.”

“The BBA is always here for you when you need it.”

Hiro gifted him a warm smile, “Thanks Stanley, that means a lot. To me and also Brooklyn.”

On the other side of the room, Max and Ray hung out by the buffet table, finally full they sipped some juice out of plastic containers.

“Isn’t this a party.” Ray mouthed the words into the juice cup while glaring at Brooklyn talking to the White Tigers.

“You jealous he’s talking to Miriah? Just go over there and ask her to dance.”

Ray spluttered coughing up some of his juice, “Wha-? No! I’m just angry he’s really here in general-”

“Don’t lie Ray.” Max grinned.

“Look- Look at all the people dancing Max, there’s no room and- Aren’t we spying on Tyson anyways?”

“We can do two things at once.” Max took an elegant sip.

“Okay- How many people has Tyson danced with again?”

“Lost count again Ray? Keep up Buddy.” Max laughed while slapping him on the shoulder, causing Ray to again splutter his juice.

Max surveyed the crowd, “a lot of people, but as predicted he’s been more flirty with the guys.” Max shrugged his shoulders with a know-it-all attitude.

After Tyson inadvertently came out to Max and Ray the other day they decided it was their mission to help Tyson with his sexuality, a party with tons of dancing was the perfect opportunity.

“He was the most flirty with…” Ray trailed off trying to remember, suddenly concerned with the number of guys Tyson had danced with.

“Oliver.” Max snapped his fingers.

“Yeah but Oliver’s already dating someone so he doesn’t count.” Ray rolled his eyes.

“Wait what’s our goal here for tonight?” Max asked quizzically, knowing full well what they wanted to do.

“To get him to kiss someone of course!”

“Alright calm down it will be done by the end of the night.”

Tyson was tired from dancing so much. He barely knew how to dance and yet tonight he felt like an expert. He went back to a table and grabbed his cup of punch gulping it down. He looked down at his outfit he chose, it was much different from what he would regularly wear, a little more revealing and mature, he liked it.

Tyson was aware of the inner turmoil going on inside himself. Mentally he didn’t know where he belonged, he felt it before the BEGA championship and now he felt it bubbling over, so much that he accidentally got Ray and Max involved.

*Ah, damn it.*

Tyson just wanted to keep dancing, dancing and socializing was keeping his mind off everything.

*I’ve almost danced with everyone here though-*

“Hey Tyson! Dance with me?” Emily was blushing a bit when she asked.

“Yeah? A pretty girl like you? Of course.” Tyson cringed when he couldn’t tell if he meant it or not.

He gently grasped her wrist and brought her to the clearing where everyone was dancing and without touching began to dance.

“Dancing with the world champ, I wanted to do it once, while I had the opportunity.” Emily blushed a bit, mostly out of embarrassment, if anyone asked *not* admiration.

“Well here you are.” Tyson grinned while grabbing both her hands and swinging them back and forth in an awkward yet cute dance.

She giggled a bit, however was immediately interrupted by a deep sophisticated voice.

“Tyson? Can I take you away from this pretty lady?”

Tyson turned his head, not expecting the shine of Brooklyn’s earring to catch his eye.

Tyson’s jaw dropped a bit, he could not vocalize an answer.

Brooklyn placed a hand on his chest and made a slight bow, “may I have this dance?”

Tyson directed his attention back to Emily who simply nodded and pointed his hands in Brooklyn’s direction.

Brooklyn grasped his hand and waist in a very formal way, Tyson wasn’t expecting it, he brushed it off as maybe being the only way he knew how to dance.

“Nice to see you again Tyson.”

Tyson grinned slightly, he looked *really* good. Tyson decided to start a conversation before the silence got weird.

“Last time I saw you-”

“Things were weird.”

“Yeah.” Tyson tried to laugh but it came out a bit high pitched for his liking.

Brooklyn chuckled, but it came out more of a deep growl.

Tyson bit his lip just a bit.

*Woah, okay, no- He might be the best looking guy here but he’s- Brooklyn.*

“Tyson? Are you alright?”

“Yeah! I-I’m fine. Are you um-”

“Just ask.”

“Are you okay? Since the tournament I mean.”

“I’m alright. I wanted to talk to you Tyson, specifically to thank you.”

Tyson tilted his head as a silent ‘why’?

“You really helped me. You were the hand that took me out of that dark place, and although I have a long way to go, you started it, without you I would still be with Boris- or not, you know, here.”

Tyson blinked a few times.

“So, thank you Tyson, for saving me.”

“You’re um- Welcome.” Tyson slowed his pace to gently move back and forth.

Brooklyn grasped his hand harder and pulled himself closer to Tyson.

“What can I do for you in return?” He grew a sly look on his face.

Tyson’s eyes grew wide.

*There’s no way he could know- No? No way? Unless he was talking to Hiro- No even Hiro doesn’t know-”

“Tyson?”

“Y-Yeah?”

“You’re doing it again.”

“Sorry…” Tyson mumbled looking down at their shoes.

“You know…” Brooklyn took his hand off Tyson’s waist and placed a finger under Tyson’s chin forcing him to tilt his neck to look at him.

Brooklyn took a deep breath and laid out his thoughts just barely above a whisper.

“I kind of want to kiss you…”

Tyson’s whole body turned to ice, no fire, no he turned into a ghost? The feelings his body were trying to signal his brain were all jumbled and he couldn’t figure out what to do, or what he wanted to do.

“I-”

“We could sneak out, just for a few minutes, if that’s what you want.” Brooklyn changed his entire demeanor instantly, trying to appeal to Tyson’s tastes.

It worked.

“Yo what is going on over there?” Max whispered to Ray while spying on Tyson and Brooklyn across the room.

“I’ve been wondering the exact same thing.” Ray mumbled in a worried tone.

“I have mixed feelings about this…” Max put a hand over his mouth deep in thought.

“I mean- Would it hurt? If he dated Brooklyn I mean?”

“Dating! Ray!”

“I mean- Kai would be pissed but Brooklyn’s not exactly *evil* just…”

“Mentally ill? Unpredictable?” Max started listing at max speed.

“Hey Max it’s not his fault he’s mentally ill. After working for Boris he must have suitcases of trauma.”

“His special attack is called ‘King of Darkness attack.” Max rolled his eyes.

“Okay, you got me there, but what are we going to *do* about it?”

Max hovered in place thinking, unfortunately while they were thinking about it, Tyson and Brooklyn disappeared.

“Ah fuck-” Ray stammered.

“Like you said Ray, not like we could do anything about it.”

“Tyson and Brooklyn though? I think I heard he was pissed at Hiro, could he be doing it to get back at him?” Ray pointed out with a worried expression.

“We know Tyson he won’t do anything dangerous, if anything he will just experiment with Brooklyn maybe kiss a bit-”

“What.”

Ray and Max both turned on their heels to confront the familiar voice, their faces read fear, after all it was the one person they didn’t want to hear from.

Kai stood there mouth agape for a few moments managing to pool together his thoughts.

“What. The. Fuck.”

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mamabearcatfanfics · 4 years

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Second chapter up now on AO3, or read on below!

“Pizza delivery for one Kagome Higurashi!” The bright grin on the wolf demon’s face immediately fell when he saw who opened the door. “Oh, it’s you mutt. Ain’t you got a home of your own to go to? Or is the salary Myouga the flea’s paying you so miniscule that you’ve been reduced to couch surfing?” He chuckled at his own joke. Inuyasha did not join in.

“Hand over the pizza and fuck off”, he said pleasantly, holding out one clawed hand expectantly.

“I didn’t see your name on the delivery order”, said Kouga, making a show of checking the receipt then trying to peer into the apartment behind Inuyasha’s broad shoulders. “Nope, no mention of a mutt named Inuyasha. Only Kagome. For all I know, you’re a freeloader trying to steal Kagome’s hard earned dinner.”

“Yeah, she’s eatin’ three pizzas and a serve of garlic knots all by herself. Even though she’s the size of a wet kitten. Hand it over wolf.”

The stalemate continued, Inuyasha continuing to block Kouga’s view, and Kouga refusing to hand over the pizzas. Finally Inuyasha rolled his eyes and hollered for Kagome, who appeared in a pair of soft blue flannelette pyjamas and fluffy slippers, drying her damp hair with a towel.

“Oh wow Kouga, that was really fast! I didn’t expect you to deliver it in person!” she said, her blue eyes lighting up at the stack of cardboard pizza boxes he was carrying.

“You’re my favourite customer Kagome – I’m always going to deliver your pizza in person.” Kagome laughed a little uncomfortably.

“Aw, that’s sweet. Um, let me just get my wallet so I can give you a tip.”

“I’ll give him a tip”, Inuyasha grumbled, stepping aside so Kagome could pay Kouga. “You should wash behind your ears more often wolf, you stink.”

“Inuyasha!”

Kagome’s elbow caught him in the ribs, making him grunt. She pulled out a crisp ten dollar note to pass to Kouga and squeaked in surprise when his much larger hand wrapped around hers.

“Forget the tip. I’m finishing up work in an hour or so. How about I come back and take you out for a drink?”

Kagome smiled kindly at him, valiantly trying to tug her hand free, and failing dismally.

“Ah, um, Kouga, that’s very kind and thanks for the offer, but as you can see” she said, glancing down at her pyjamas and slippers, “I’m not going anywhere else tonight. I know it’s Friday, but it’s been a tough week at work. All I want to do is sit on the sofa, eat my pizza and just relax.”

“So, tomorrow then?” Kagome’s smile slipped a little, and she did her best to ignore the rumbling growl beginning from her inuhanyou friend looming protectively behind her.

“Um, I have plans. For the entire weekend”, she added quickly when it looked like Kouga was going to inquire about Sunday. Kouga sighed in obvious disappointment and then placed a lingering kiss on Kagome’s knuckles, before taking the money out of her hand and handing over the pizzas.

“Another time then mon chéri. Enjoy your meal!” Inuyasha slammed the door on him.

“What did I say to you about encouraging him?!” grumbled Inuyasha, taking the pizzas out of her hands and carrying them over to the coffee table. He dropped himself onto the sofa and flipped back the lid of the first one, making a disgusted face. “Yuck. Mushrooms. This one’s yours.”

“It wouldn’t kill you to eat a vegetable occasionally you know”, said Kagome, sitting down next to him, continuing to dry her hair. “And in what way was I encouraging Kouga? I told him no. I tell him no every time he asks.”

“That was a no?” he snorted. “You called him sweet and batted your eyelashes at ‘im. He’s gonna take that as a yes.” He flipped open another pizza box and breathed in the fragrant smell of pepperoni and cheese. “Kouga’s a wolf youkai Kagome. You need to be firm with him, or he’s gonna walk all over you. Say somethin’ more like ‘stop asking me out, because I wouldn’t date you if you were the last demon on Earth’. That should do for starters. And if that doesn’t work, lemme punch him a coupla times. Or at least start orderin’ pizza from somewhere else.”

“But that’s so mean!” said Kagome in an aghast voice. “Kouga is actually a nice guy! When I first moved in here, he told me where all the good coffee places were. Besides, his pizza shop is in the bottom of the building, I’m not going to order from anywhere else!” She hung her towel over the back of the sofa, now her hair was as dry as it was going to get. “He means well, he just comes on a little strong sometimes. And I’m not going to let you punch anyone!” Inuyasha rolled his eyes.

“Whoops Kittycat, your small town roots are showin’ again.”

“Hey! I don’t want to hurt his feelings, and that’s because I’m a nice person, not because of where I grew up!” she said, punching him as hard as she could on his bicep. Inuyasha barely moved, but looked at her pointedly.

“Nice, huh?” She crossed her arms and huffed at him and he sniggered. “What’s the current population of Wrightwood Kagome? I bet it ain’t even 5000, am I right?” He grinned at her when she rolled her eyes. “That’s what I thought.”

“I did live in San Diego for six months before I moved here”, she pointed out primly, reaching for a garlic knot. Inuyasha snorted, then folded his slice of pepperoni pizza in half and took a huge bite.

“Ah, that hits the spot”, he said indistinctly around his mouthful. “He may be a stinky wolf bastard, but he knows how to make a good pizza.” He wound a piece of stretched out mozzarella around his finger and slurped it into his mouth.

“Charming.”

“Hey, I’m all charm.” Kagome rolled her eyes, reaching for her own slice, then let her hand drop with a sigh.

Inuyasha glanced up, trying to read her scent. She was a lot calmer now, after her shower. A good thing too. For some reason, Kagome feeling upset made him twitchy, like he needed to do something to fix whatever had caused it. He supposed it was her size and personality. She was so little and so nice – it was no wonder he felt protective of her.

The four of them had settled into a regular routine in the three months she’d been living with Sango. Beer and chili dogs on Friday nights. Occasional trivia nights, with a stroll to the best pretzel cart in Queens on the way home. Regular card games at Miroku’s. She’d fit into their little friendship group like she’d always been there. And with Sango and Miroku’s current ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement, he and Kagome were left to hang out together more often than not, which was fine by him. At least he wasn’t playing third wheel anymore.

She was cute and funny, easy on the eye. Kind, with an infectious smile and bright blue eyes. But surprisingly, also kinda sarcastic, which made him laugh. And she’d stood up for him when someone had said something with a racist undertone while they were out at the pub. He’d grown a thick skin over the years, and was so used to tuning it out, he’d hardly even noticed it. But Kagome had, and she was a sight to behold. A tiny spitting ball of fury. He’d had to carry her bodily out of the bar, needing to remove her from the situation before her comments started an all out brawl.

“Inuyasha? Um, thanks again for walking home with me tonight”, she said softly. “You really didn’t have to.”

“Sure I did”, he answered, bumping against her shoulder. “If some creepy bastard’s following you, calling me is the first thing you should do.”

“So I should always call you? Not Miroku?” she teased.

“What’s he gonna do? Put the moves on them by flooring them with his boyish charm? Flirt them into submission?”. Kagome giggled, then sighed.

“I don’t know that he was following me, really. But he kept up with me, even when I walked faster, and I just got that feeling, y’know? That something bad was going to happen.”

Inuyasha nodded. Her voice on the other end of the phone as he’d answered had been a dead give away.

He hadn’t been expecting to hear from her tonight – Sango was visiting her brother and was away for the weekend, and Kagome had been working late nights all week, so she’d texted him and Miroku and cancelled their usual Friday night drinks. Miroku had opted out also, and he’d been sitting on his sofa with a beer, watching Netflix, and scrolling through his Facebook feed, phone in his hand. And then she’d called.

“Hey Inuyasha?” There was an edge to her voice he didn’t like. She sounded panicked.

“Kagome? What’s up?”

She was panting a little now, and he could hear her hurried footsteps on the pavement, and the jingling of keys, which meant she was probably carrying them in her hand. Kagome never did that, because she had them on a long lanyard secured to the buckle on her bag strap so she could always find them easily. He knew from Sango that was something girls were taught to do if they were feeling threatened.

“Sorry, I’m going to be a little late!” He sat up straight on the sofa, ears alert as he looked around for his wallet and keys, then shoved them in his pockets. Something was definitely up.

“Is everything okay? You said you were goin’ straight home tonight after work.”

“Yeah, I got held up at the office, and then missed my train. But I’m almost at Veteran’s Park, the one near Jackson Mill Road, so I should be there pretty soon.”

“Kagome… is someone followin’ you?”

“Uh huh!” He could tell she was aiming for a bright happy tone, but was failing miserably. Shit. The thought of anyone mugging her or worse made his gut twist.

“Keep talkin’ to me”, he said firmly, shrugging on his jacket and shoving his feet into his work boots. “I’ll be right there. Keep walkin’ and stay under the streetlights okay? Try and move towards people if you can. I’ll find you.”

“Sure thing! I’m really looking forward to seeing you!”

“I’m headin’ out the door, I should be there five minutes, tops.”

He’d sprinted, keeping his mobile on speaker so he could hear her talking aimlessly about random stuff, the tone of her voice getting more and more nervous. He caused a few angry yells as he dashed past people, but he didn’t care. Kagome was his friend, and she needed him. He slowed his pace to a slow jog as he rounded the corner to the park, easily locating her by scent. She was terrified. He’d walked straight up to her and embraced her in a tight hug. He could hear her heart hammering in her chest, her hands shaking as she wrapped them around his waist.

“Inuyasha…”

Inuyasha could smell the bastard, loitering in the background, the stink of the other man’s lust making him want to hurl. He glared in the direction the scent was coming from, pushing back a snarl. He could go after him, confront him, but he didn’t want to scare Kagome any more than she already was, so he put his arm around her shoulders, leading her away. But he knew that guy's scent now. And if they should happen to cross paths again, it wouldn’t be his fault if the fucker tripped and fell directly into his fist.

“Nice to see you Kittycat. Thanks for callin’ me to tell me you were going to be late. I appreciate it.”

She’d pressed herself into his side, still shaking, and he’d done everything he could to soothe her during the ten minute walk back to her apartment. Making jokes, asking about her work, inviting himself to dinner, because he could tell she was still feeling nervous. He was so glad that she’d called him, and more than a little flattered.

“I’ll always come when you call. What are friends for right? Besides, you bought me pizza. That’s more than enough payment for jogging a coupla blocks and walking back to your place.”

“You probably think I’m ridiculous”, she sighed. “He probably wasn’t following me at all. I think it’s just because it was so much later than I usually walk back from the station, and it’s the first night I’ve been here alone, with Sango visiting her family.”

Inuyasha thought for a moment about confirming her suspicion that she was being followed. But he didn’t want to frighten her even more. Part of Kagome’s charm was her openness, her excitement about finally living her dream here in NYC. He didn’t want to spoil that for her. But unfortunately, part of living in a city was learning to move about it safely, and being more aware of your surroundings. Because there were always random assholes who wanted to take what you had. He could help her with that.

“If you’re ever late again like that, call me. I’ll be happy to walk with you from the station, even if I’m workin’. Myouga wouldn’t care if I had to leave the shop for a while to walk with you – he thinks the sun shines out of your cute little ass. And ya know, if you’re still feeling worried, I can sleep here on the couch.”

“Inuyasha, I can’t ask you to do that!” Kagome said, glancing down at his long legs and then the length of the sofa, one Sango had purchased from Ikea. “You’re way too tall, your back would be wrecked by morning. I will be fine, I promise!”

He studied her closely. Her words said she was fine, but her scent, and her expression, said she wanted him to stay. He could do that for her. It wasn’t like he had any other plans on a Friday night. Besides, if he left now, he’d just be worried about her, wondering if she was sleeping or not.

He made a show of stretching himself out, twisting around to throw his legs up on the sofa and crossing his ankles in her lap, then reached for another piece of pizza.

“Ooh, yeah, this sofa is pretty comfy. I don’t think I could be bothered to go home now. Besides, you can make me breakfast. I happen to know you’ve got bacon in the freezer.”

Kagome sighed. “You’re still eating dinner and you’re already thinking about breakfast?”

“Bacon is a serious business Kagome.”

Kagome leaned forward over his legs to grab herself a slice of pizza, which flopped downwards, losing a good portion of the topping as it slid off onto the cardboard box below it. He laughed at the pout on her face.

“Okay, you should know this if you’re gonna be a full time resident of NYC. You gotta fold your pizza. Like this, see?” he said, reaching for another slice for himself and folding it in half lengthwise. He took a big bite. “You get twice as much in a mouthful, and the topping don’t slide off.”

“You should open your mouth a little more when you chew dog boy, I didn’t get to see everything in there that time.”

“You think you’re funny don’tcha?” he smiled. The nervousness in her had settled, and she was back to her normal self. Everything was okay now.

“Yeah, I do actually.” She patted him on his ankle absentmindedly as she reached for another garlic knot. “You’re a good friend Inu.”

“Right back atcha, Kittycat.”

#mamabearcat fanfics #First Impressions #inukag fanfic #inukag #inukag modern AU

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halothenthehorns · 3 years

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All in the Family

Chapter 12: Quidditch

The office was so bare, that at first they thought they'd landed in an abandoned one. Yet the desk was filled with papers for markings, the curtains were well worn as if someone regularly pulled them back to view the Quidditch stadium beyond, and the chair was not the one from their time, but slightly modified into a more comfortable recliner. Still, there were no personal touches, and even those teachers who had no plans to stay longer than a year carried photos, or remnants of every human practice to somehow mark their space. No splash of color dominated, even the bedroom adjacent to the office held only standard bed sheets.

"We must be in Quirrell's office," Sirius decided. The feeling would never grow comfortable, but he was at least used to by now of shaking off the dizzying feeling of being somewhere he wasn't a second before so that he could step up to the desk and start rifling through drawers which were as bare as the walls, only filled with extra quills and ink.

"Bloke needs a personal decorator," Peter muttered, he'd never seen anything so bare bones, and he'd been to a DA teacher's office every year to know this wasn't common.

"What do you think happened here?" Frank asked as he stepped up to a corner of the room. There was an empty shelf that could have held any number of things from books to nicknacks, but it was as dusty as everything else. However, there was a small burn mark in the wall, with just the tips of a few feathers showing on the edge indicating it might once have been a bird implanted there, but now it was just a smoky, twisted shape like he'd tried to blast it off the wall instead.

Lupin stepped up beside him with a perplexed look as well, scratching his nail against this curiously. "I think it used to be an eagle," tracing his finger now across the lone visible feather, "maybe he used to be in Ravenclaw house?"

"Then why would he blast it off?" Franks brows only rose higher with such an odd form of an answer.

There was no explanation for this peculiar place, but that was the pattern of this whole journey so far. So Remus stepped up next to Sirius and plopped down in the seat, scooping up the book where it had landed first and reclining leisurely as he began the next part. He cheered with joy the moment he read the chapter title, and Sirius sat on the arm of the chair at once to lean in and see why. Remus automatically pushed his face away, but by the time he read it out to the others Sirius was already whooping with his own joy they were going to be reading about Harry's first Quidditch game, finally!

James was beside himself with joy at once, clutching Peter to him in ecstatic excitement before they even got to details, they were all aware of who the match was going to be against. Peter was being just as bad, squealing and wriggling around just as much, watching James carefully to make sure he'd stay upright even when he was released to start all but bouncing off the walls.

Alice watched them and couldn't help but laugh at the show, remembering the two times she'd actually sat near them in the stands during their younger years and knowing they could possibly get worse, so choosing to follow as Frank went into the adjacent room to find some lower level of noise.

Regulus just stood awkwardly at opposite ends of the room from Evans, admittedly more ecstatic for this but honestly still unsure of how much he should bother trying to interact with Sirius. His parents had been making it increasingly clear during his holiday visits Sirius may not even be around much longer if he didn't change up his act this summer, and no matter what crazy world they were flying through now, he should still honor his parents wishes and keep himself separate from the stain of his older brother. Just because his friends still managed to amuse him, and honestly he still couldn't help but look to what Sirius did and react the same way, didn't mean he was actually expected to hang around him.

Lily declined following Frank and Alice for once, but that just left her more uncomfortable than ever in this room full of boys who she couldn't claim to see eye to eye with about anything. They held no interest as Lupin went through the whole chapter leading up to the game, wasn't going to bother with any defense for what Sev did even if that was a rule he made up on the spot. The way they were reacting was even how she would have predicted, still making crude jokes at each other and reminiscing about all they'd done to Snape and wishing they could do more now while he continued to bully Harry.

Not that she even knew for a fact that's what this was. She more than anyone could understand why Sev was singling Harry out, not that she in any way approved of why he was for such petty revenge, but she wouldn't deny she could see in his eyes lashing out at someone who so reminded him of Potter just as much as her. She wished he'd be more of an adult about it, but there was just no point saying any of this to anyone present, it's not as if they'd understand.

Her fury at the situation only grew when Harry went on to accuse Severus of being after whatever that deranged dog was guarding. Honestly, one incident of an injury, an overheard conversation, and the kid just automatically blamed it on the person he didn't like. It was a miracle he wasn't adding Malfoy into the mix as an accomplice already, as if life didn't happen outside of teachers who yelled at him.

The build up to the game held no interest to her, it only set her teeth grinding back on edge and all she could do now was be grateful he didn't use any build up to blow off steam like the Potter in this room would. In fact she honesty couldn't admit to even listening to what happened up until the moment Harry mentioned his broom lurching beneath him. Something inside of her lurched as well.

She certainly didn't like Potter, but she'd never actually wished him irreparable harm, let alone death! That's what was going to happen when Harry fell though, so she looked on at Lupin stuttering through words in a panic, actually understood the look of fear on all of his friends, and met Potter's eyes with a dry mouth that honestly could have released a scream of fear any second.

"Evans!" James startled them all out of the vivid mental nightmare as he went to her side. She fell against the wall the moment that little Hermione girl claimed to have seen what was really going on, but remained just out of arm's reach of Potter when her focus snapped back to him still on a glare.

"It wasn't him," her voice crackled with force that would surely have stopped that bucking broom in place, it wasn't a wonder why James froze. "Severus isn't the one doing this."

Far from looking as if to check on her, the muscle going in his jaw made it clear he was holding himself back from doing something more than shouting now when his hand twitched for his wand. "Are you really so daft women? You can't look past, for one bleeding second of protecting and defending him against everything! What possible explanation do you have for this one?!"

"Why don't you try opening your mind for once Potter!" She snarled right back, off the wall in the same breath and glaring daggers at him, her hand in the same position. "Pull your fat head out of your arse and think! Or is that too difficult, with all the empty space up there?"

"Glory those two are the most self centered birks I've ever met," Frank muttered, staying happily on the other side of the door to mutter this to Alice. "Can't they have this row for the millionth time after they find out if the kid survived. I swear this went down last week about who it was causing the toilets to snap shut on people."

"Wasn't it Avery caught doing that yesterday?" Alice asked in surprise.

"Exactly," Frank finished with a snort.

"How long do you think they can keep going when neither really has the ability to walk away?" Alice asked in honest concern when the two just kept exchanging insults.

"You mean when Evans can't storm off," Frank corrected. "Ever seen Potter? I think he lives for this."

Alice huffed in disgust if this was really how he thought was the best way to keep her attention, and honestly just grew sick of it herself finally. She went back through the door, Frank following reluctantly, and right over to Lupin. Black was sitting on the arm of the chair and watching along with Pettigrew like a show, but the last Marauder was pretending nothing was even happening as he kept his eyes down on the passage, though clearly reading nothing as no words had been uttered since they'd started.

"You lot just planning on staying in here forever?" She demanded.

"That's an interesting question," Black looked to her and said conversationally. "Wonder if time's frozen forever, we'll never get old, never get hungry again, actually wait, that could get really boring."

"Whatever point you take from this," she said in exasperation.

He nodded and nudged Moony, muttering, "best go on then, you've studied in the common room with louder things going on."

Remus hesitated an extra moment before indeed choosing to ignore the pair and continuing. It certainly made the Marauders who were paying attention a new level of interest none had ever seen, setting a teacher on fire and all. That was something they'd never dare to do, and Hermione just became their new idol for that act alone, the reason that she was doing it just made her as solid a friend as Ron only made it all the better.

It was honestly sad to the three of them James took no glory in this, didn't even seem to mention it as he was still busy over there where apparently only he and Evans existed. He even missed Harry spitting up the Snitch in victory, and in fact only came back to realizing what was going on when Evans snapped her head in their direction upon Hagrid defending Snape.

"Finally, a sensible human being," she seethed, snapping away from him and storming into the room for any way to escape while still listening attentively now. Hagrid just became her new favorite person in this castle for finally seeing past singling out a person for this happening, something that childish idiot could never understand.

"Wait, what happened to Harry? Who won the game?" James asked with a ruffled brow, his eyes still on the door and for all the world still unaware when Peter answered he'd fill him in on the details.

"Fluffy?" Frank said into the awkward silence. "I can not for the life of me picture a three headed dog, fluffy."

"Thought you had more imagination than that love," Alice honestly giggled at her boyfriend's perplexed look.

"I'll take that scrap of information if the dog has pink fur on top of it all," Lupin said with honest interest, his eyes now alight as he kept going at finally getting more information no matter how unintentional Hagrid gave it.

"Why do I know that name, Flamel," Regulus muttered to himself, though he alone felt invested in this mystery. Everyone else still seemed far more involved with Harry, even Evans no matter how much she denied it. She certainly hadn't, in all her shouting, come up with any alternatives to who could be trying to kill the young Potter, unlike him, who was still chewing over all the information given as Lupin finished.

#Marauders #Harry Potter #fanfiction #Peter Pettigrew #Wolfstar #James Potter #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #Lily Evans #Regulus Black #Frank Longbottom #Alice Smith #reading the books

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cheryyori · 4 years

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SK8TERBOY - Skaterboy!Yeosang/Soft!Reader Social Media AU ft. side pairing: Seonghwa/OC

Genre: Pure fluff (possible smut has yet to be determined)

A.N. Whoop, new update, not a lot of Yeosang bc Y/N is a bit of a mess rn. Also italics is Japanese. Also a bonus chapter about Seonghwa and Sumire’s date from the last two chapters will be coming soon bc I’m soft for them.

Chapter summary: It was supposed to be a nice evening between roommates/friends until Y/N gets an unknown text from what might be Yeosang and starts freaking out on what to do. Aka Y/N is still up to her usual clownery.

Taglist: @philosopher-of-fandoms @mangobee @mingiibabieee @yourbunny-xxii @angelichris-b97 @yeosatinyngz @kimtae-bae

(let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!)

Masterlist. prev. next.

Chapter 4. You’re Pretty Cute

Once Y/N returned home, she dropped her bag onto the floor and kicked her shoes off before flopping face down onto the couch. A muffled loud groan left her lips as she recalled her clownery.

“Oh god, she’s finally lost it,” a voice mutters, followed by the sound of a slap to the shoulder. Yusung, Y/N thinks as she recognized the deep voice of his.

“Yusung, don’t be rude!” another says in a harsh whisper. Y/N knew that it was Suzaku who was berating the younger.

“What? It’s not our fault she’s an idiot,” Yusung said. Suzaku smacked his shoulder again, only this time harder than the last one, “Ouch, will you stop that, you bastard!”

“You know that said idiot can hear you, right?” Another chipped in. Junho had been sitting on the other couch, adjacent to the one Y/N flopped onto while scrolling on his phone for anything remotely interesting.

“I have such great friends,” Y/N huffs as she looked up to see the three boys. She could see Yusung stand tall (the bastard being the tallest out of all of them and using his height to make many short jokes at both her and Sumire’s expenses) besides Suzaku who had a concerned look on his face.

“Again, not our fault that you’re an idiot sometimes,” Yusung said once again. Suzaku elbowed him but used one hand to cover the small smile on his lips.

“This is bullying! I will not stand for such slander!” Y/N cried as she sat up, a pout on her lips as she glared at the boys. Junho remained unfazed by the whole exchange, ignoring his group of friends as usual. Yusung, on the other hand, stuck his tongue out at Y/N.

“You two are being loud, shut up!” A female groaned. Emerging from the kitchen, Sumire had a tired looked on her face. Her hair a mess as she walked into the living room, apparently she had been sleeping before the commotion.

“Sumi!” Y/N whined, “They’re bullying me again!” She said as she pointed to the boys, standing up as she went to Sumire’s arms. Sumire only sighed and placed a small pat on Y/N’s back in a weak attempt to comfort her.

“Sumi, you can’t blame us for Y/N’s own clownery!” Y/N heard the soft snort that escaped from Sumire’s lips and pulled away, staring at her in betrayal.

“Sorry,” there a small smile on her lips, “but it was kinda funny to read the whole thing,” Sumire explains. Y/N groaned as rest her head on her shoulder, wanting nothing more than to forget this moment.

“Don’t remind me,” Y/N whined, “I was so excited to see him again and thinking about what nonsense you three idiots were spamming in the chat that I totally spaced out and forgot to ask for his number!”

“Disappointed, but not surprised,” Junho mutters to himself but Y/N’s ears perked up at his words.

“Nam Junho! You are rude!” Y/N fumed. Junho merely shrugged and continued scrolling through his phone. Sumire sighed and decided that since she was up now, she might as well get started on dinner.

“I’m going to make dinner now, feel free to join me if you’re bored─no, not you Yusung!” She gave Yusung a pointed look as he started heading towards the kitchen, “Don’t think you’re still off the hook from the rice cooker incident last night.”

“Oh my god, it was an accident, how was supposed to know you plug the damn thing in?”

“How do you burn rice without having it plugged in?” She replied, raising a brow at him. Yusung opened his mouth before promptly closing it, not wanting to be judged more than he already was by his best/childhood friend.

“Fine. I’ll go play with Iroha, at least she’ll appreciate me!” He grumbled as he stalked over to the small ragamuffin kitten that was settled in the corner. “Iroha-chan! Come play with uncle Sungie!” He cooed as he picked up the small kitten and the toy that had caught her attention.

"I think I’m gonna be in my room for a bit,” Y/N said, “Today was quite eventful,” she mutters as she slowly dragged her feet to her room. Sumire almost felt bad for her friend. Almost, if she didn’t recall the texts she had with Seonghwa earlier. It will only be a matter of time when Yeosang will text Y/N.

“Alright, I’ll call you when dinner’s ready,” Y/N nodded and went inside her room, flopping onto her bed. Y/N closed her eyes, her mind constantly replaying her time with Yeosang and felt her cheeks heat up. Her heart suddenly picked up as she thought about him in general and let her thoughts wonder if he was dating anyone. Would he want to date her-

“AH! Y/N stop thinking like that!” She shrieked as she smacked her warm cheeks lightly again. “You don’t even know him! And you didn’t get his number! Maybe this is a sign that you’re going to be forever alone,” she scolded herself before letting out a dejected sigh.

It was then that her phone went off, Y/N figured that it might have been either one of the boys or Sumire and glanced over at the message before she let out a scream when she saw who texted her.

Meanwhile, in the living room/kitchen, everyone was doing their own thing to pass the time before dinner was ready when they heard Y/N’s voice coming from her room.

“What the fuck is going on?” Junho was the first to ask as he looked up from his phone.

“So it’s begun,” Sumire muttered to herself as she ignored Y/N’s scream and continued to cook. Suddenly Y/N rushed out of her room and into the kitchen, her phone in hand as she held it out towards Sumire.

“H-he─” Y/N couldn’t even make the first words out as she slowly started talking nonsense. This ruckus caused all the boys to walk into the kitchen (surprisingly Yusung wasn’t kicked out this time) to figure out what the hell was going on with their roommate.

“What the hell is going on with you?” Yusung asked, carrying Iroha in his arms. The ragamuffin kitten was oblivious to what was happening around her as she started to paw at his fingers.

“I-I, he─!” Y/N continued to babble before Sumire shuts off the stove and went over to take her phone.

“Oh,” she says, “He texted her.”

“Who did?” Suzaku asked, going over to Sumire’s side as he peered over her right shoulder while Junho peered over her left side.

“Her skaterboy friend,” Sumire replied.

“I thought you said you two didn’t exchange numbers,” Junho asked with a raised brow.

“W-we didn’t,” Y/N said.

“Then how the hell did he get you number?” Junho continued, skeptical of the idea that this was really her skaterboy crush who was texting her.

“U-uh, I don’t know,” Y/N mutters.

“Hey, here’s a crazy idea,” Sumire started, “Why don’t you, you know, ask him,” she suggested, handing her phone back.

“B-but that’s scary,” Y/N mutters, thinking what if it some stranger or worse. It actually was Yeosang, how the heck was she going to text him?

“Can’t you do it for me, Sumi?” Y/N asked, batting her eyes at her wife.

“No,” Sumire replies, “besides, it’s not that hard it’s just a text, you can text him. Also take a deep breath before you do, you look like you’re going to pass out,” she told Y/N, who was looking rather pale at the moment.

“I think Y/N rather die than do that,” Yusung snorted.

“Shut up, Yusung, don’t make me hit you,” Sumire glares at her childhood friend, eyes narrowing at him.

“As if you can reach me,” The boy mutters. At this, Sumire kicked the back of his knees, causing him to fall onto them.

“Ah, thank you for continuing to brighten my day, Sumire,” Junho smiled brightly at the sight.

“Dammit, Junho, you bastard!” Yusung grumbles as he sets Iroha safely on the ground and rubs the back of his knees.

“Anyways,” Sumire continued, glancing back at Y/N, “Just text him, trust me, it’s not that hard.”

“O-okay,” Y/N said as she took a deep breath. Just a text, she told herself before going replying to the unknown number might or might not be Yeosang.

“Oh my fucking god, Y/N,” Yusung muttered over her shoulder, apparently reading the text she just sent to Yeosang.

“S-shut up, Yusuck!” Y/N exclaimed with a red face before reading Yeosang’s reply, turning away from them all.

“So? Did he say how he got your number?” Suzaku asked curiously.

“He said that his roommate Seonghwa gave it to him,” Y/N replied, causing the boys to have a surprised look.

“Seonghwa? Like Sumi’s Seonghwa, Seonghwa?” Yusung asked. At this Sumire went back to cooking dinner, missing the suspicious look Junho cast her way before turning back to the conversation at hand.

“Yeah, I guess I must have given Seonghwa my number and he passed it along to Yeosang when heard about our situation,” Y/N concluded, earning a quiet snort from Sumire.

“Huh, that’s kinda anti-climatic, I thought skaterboy started typing in random numbers until he got your number right,” Yusung pouted before cooing at a mewing Iroha. Junho gave Sumire another glance and hummed to himself.

“Well, at least you have a way to get in contact with him,” Suzaku said, “And the fact that he texted you first means he likes you!”

“Oh my god, Suzaku, I barely know him!” Y/N sighed.

“But you think he’s cute, right?” He pressed. Y/N bit her lower lip because yes, she did think he was cute. And she hates how these little heathens knew that she thought he was cute.

“I mean yeah but─”

“Then why not ask him out?” Yusung chimed in, leaning forwards slightly, “I mean let’s be honest, we’re all sick of you complaining to us about wanting to go on cute dates whenever Sumi leaves the apartment to meet Seonghwa.”

“I-I─” Y/N’s cheeks were tinted pink as she gawked at Yusung, “I-I do not complain! I just think that going out with someone would be nice,” she pouted.

“Ah, you’re complaining again!”

“Shut up, Yusuck!” Y/N snapped before turning her attention back to her phone.

“CHO YUSUNG!” Y/N shrieked as Yusung stole her phone from her hands and replied to Yeosang. Her eyes were wide as she stared at the text he sent before she started hitting his chest with a red face.

“Ouch, ouch! Dammit, woman! You should be thanking me, I just secured you your future boyfriend!” Yusung whined as he grabbed her arms to stop her from hitting him anymore. Y/N will not be thanking him if anything she felt mortified.

“More like secured your own death,” Sumire comments.

“I AM GOING TO KICK YOU IN THE SHIN, CHO YUSUNG!”

“As much I would love to see that,” Junho drawled out, “I think your skaterboy called you cute as well,” he said as he swiped her phone out of Yusung’s hand and read the newest text.

“WHAT?!” Y/N took her phone back and stared at the screen, feeling oddly giddy as she read the text.

“Oh god, you’re already sending him cute love memes? You’re so whipped for him,” Yusung teased, beside him was a snickering Suzaku.

“Shut up, Yusuck! It was an accident! And Suzaku! How could you betray me like this!”

“Sorry, sorry, it’s kinda cute though,” Suzaku cooed, “This is the best and cutest entertainment since Seonghwa paced around the living room and asked for our permission to try to ask Sumi-chan on a date last week.”

“Anyways, dinner’s ready,” Sumire says, clearing her throat when her name was mentioned and placed five plates on the table they were all gathered around. The three immediately quiet down as everyone took their seats to enjoy dinner, a few teasing remarks from both Suzaku and Yusung as they poked fun at Y/N and her crush on Yeosang ( “It’s not a crush, you two!” “Aw, look at how red her cheeks are!” “Aw, how cute!” )

After dinner, they all went into their room to retire for the night.

#ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez au #ateez fluff #ateez social media au #ateez sm au #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #yeosang x reader #yeosang x you #yeosang fluff #kang yeosang #ateez yeosang #ateez x reader #skaterboy au #social media au #sm series: SK8TERBOY

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alienbactria · 4 years

Text

Summary: After the not-pocalypse, Crowley goes back to the Dowling’s estate and adopts Warlock. Aziraphale is reluctant for adopt him at first, but after some persuading, Warlock Dowling becomes Warlock Crowley-Fell. This fic takes place 3 years later, when Warlock is 14 and has been attending a school for a bit. (He call’s Aziraphale papa, but Crowey is still Nanny) Warlock is having trouble with a class assignment, but figured out that the answer was in front of him the whole time.

3:25 in the afternoon

Warlock tapped his sharpened pencil on the wooden table. His brain coming up with ideas left and right, but none fit the mold of what he wanted. The class was Creative Writing, one of his favorites, but only after living with Aziraphale for the past three years. The assignment was to write a poem about someone important in their lives and something that person went through. The first part was easy. Of course he’d choose Nanny or Papa. The only problem was what story for the long list.

His head was starting to hurt from all the ideas and frustration. The ringing school bell cut through his thoughts and interrupted the growing migraine. Warlock sighed and packed up his bag, thinking about the prompt. He walked outside and saw his Nanny, Crowley, waiting for him at the side walk, leaning against the Bentley, hands in the pockets of their tight jeans. They smiled and waved for Warlock to get in so they could head home. Warlock rushed to the car, careful not to hit his head getting in the front seat.

“Have a good day today, devil spawn?” Crowley asked as they sped away from the school. He only asked as a formality, already sensing his child’s frustration.

“It was fine, Nanny. I’m just stressed on a project. I need time to think about it.” Warlock sighed. He was exhausted and decided to take a nap as soon as he was done with the writing. Good-Old Fashioned Lover Boy started to play in the background, and the two started humming along. Humming turned to mumbling and soon both Crowley and Warlock were in concert mode. The Bentley pulled in on the side of the street next to the bookshop, but Warlock and Crowley were too busy giggling and singing along to notice.

“Thanks Nanny. I needed that.” Warlock said with a smile.

“It was no problem, Warlock. Now let’s get inside.” Warlock catiously climbed out of the passenger side door and walked with Crowley to the front door of the old bookshop. As they stepped inside, the scent of old books and hot chocolate filled their senses.

“Aziraphale! We’re back!” Called Crowley. They were happy to be home. Warlock walked over to his favorite spot and claimed it with his bag. It was an old blue chair with a clear view out the window and a table right next to it. The perfect place to do homework.

“Oh hello! Warlock, how was your day?” Aziraphale greeted happily.

“It was alright. I have a lot of homework to finish. I should probably get right to it.” Warlock replied sadly. Aziraphale and Crowley shared a knowing look.

“Well, your papa and I were going to go to the Ritz in an hour or two for dinner. Would you like to go?” Crowley knew Warlock was going into one of his moods where he felt too stressed to move on from a project.

“I’m alright, Nanny. I just have a bit of homework to do and need to stay home. Anyways, you and papa haven’t had a date in a while. Go have fun.” Warlock collapsed in his spot and got to work.

Fast forward a few hours to 10:45 at night

Warlock had been working since his parents had left, an hour and a half ago. He had finished his math, science, and history without a problem. French had caused a little trouble, but it was easier than he made it. Now was the same poem he couldn’t write in class. This is when Warlock decided he needed a break. He went to the kitchen and pulled out a mug, some cocoa powder, sugar, and some potato chips. He opened the fridge and grabbed the milk. He was mixing some milk with cocoa powder and sugar in a pot on the stove when his phone rang. Warlock sighed and walked over to his phone. Adam was calling.

“Hey Adam. What’s up?” Warlock put the phone on speaker and went back to his hot chocolate.

“I was just wondering how you were doing. I sensed that you were frusturated and I was just wondering why.” Adam seemed hesitant. So much so that Warlock laughed.

“I’m fine. I just have to write a poem for class. It’s actually a bit harder than I first thought.” Warlock added a laugh in at the end.

“Oh ... well, maybe I can help? It might be easier to figure out what you want to do out loud than just on paper. What’s the poem about?”

“It’s supposed to be about in our life and some important thing that happened to them.” As we explained the task, Warlock grabbed the pot of hot chocolate and poured it into his mug. He grabbed the cocoa and his phone, taking them back to his spot by the window.

“Well obviously you have to do either Crowley or Aziraphale. They raised and adopted you.” Adam was sure with his answer, but that just made Warlock a bit more frustrated.

“I know! But the problem is what story...” Warlock trailed off as it hit him. The last story that Nanny has told him when he asked. The only story that had been real (as far as Warlock knew). The one that changed both his parents’ life.

“Adam! I’ve gotta go. I got an idea.” Warlock hung up the phone hastily and grabbed his bowl of chips. He grabbed a pen and paper and got to work. Within five minutes he was done.

“And to think I thought it was going to be difficult. Now I just need to go to ...” Warlock slumped over, asleep. He hadn’t been sleeping all week and the relief of his finished homework was enough to make him go to bed.

20 minutes passed and finally the Bentley pulled up in front of the bookshop. A giggling angel and smug looking demon popped out and headed inside.

“Warlock! We’re-”

“Shhhhhhh. Crowley. He’s asleep. Look” Aziraphale gestured over to the chair where Warlock, truly was, asleep.

“Whoops... well I’ll clean up his mess if you take his dishes to the kitchen” Crowley offered with a shrug. Aziraphale nodded, grabbing the young teen’s dirty dishes and carrying them out.

Crowley took one of the angel’s several tartan blankets and wrapped his child up in them. He left Warlock in the chair and started to put his work away, but then stopped. In front of Crowley’s hand was a well written poem with the title “He Who Fell” written across the top. Crowley was intrigued and decided a little read wouldn’t hurt.

Crowley was stunned. He didn’t know what to say. He silently glanced between Warlock and the paper in his hand. This is what his child had written. He didn’t know what for, but he had written it. Aziraphale has snuck into the room behind Crowley. He had too read the poem, but decided it was better to get Crowley to bed then to be shocked.

“Come on, love. Let’s go to bed.” Aziraphale whispered, carefully taking the paper from Crowley’s hand and placing it on the side table. That shook Crowley out of his state.

“Oh. What? Right! Yes, let’s .. let’s go to bed.” The two walked away, Crowley still looking back every once in a while before they were finally in bed and up the stairs.

The next morning at 7:45

Warlock was scrabbling to get ready. He grabbed all of his stuff and ran out the door. He got to school, just in time and made it to class. Everything was going alright so far, now it just needed to stay that way.

That afternoon at 3:25

Warlock had turned his poem in and hoped for the best. His teacher said that poems would be handed back at the end of the block, graded. And Warlock was scared out of his mind.

Two minutes before school ended and the teacher started to hand back papers. When he got his, he couldn’t believe it. There was a 100 at the top.

Warlock couldn’t have been more relieved. The bell rang and he ran outside to tell Nanny.

“Nanny! I got a 100 on my project!” Warlock saw a smile light up the pale face of the red head.

“That’s wonderful, devil-spawn!” Crowley didn’t even use a miracle. He knew the poem was fantastic.

#ineffable dads #ineffable husbands #good omens #warlock dowling #crowley x aziraphale

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thecreelhouse · 4 years

Text

beautiful stranger

Paring: Robin Buckley x Original Female Character

Summary: Olive Lane, a witch in training, leaves home and relocates to an unfamiliar town, a tradition among witches her age to start fresh. Blissfully unaware of the bizarre and gruesome history Hawkins, Indiana holds, she settles on the small town, and seemingly blends in to her surroundings to its citizens. Everyone, except Robin, who is highly bothered and paranoid by the new, mysterious stranger, and needs to know who and what this girl is all about.

Word count: 4,835 (??? I added some things last minute whoops)

Warnings: language, some angst?, mostly a whole ton of fluff though!!

Author’s note: hi! I’m still working on the last few chapters of kill the lights, and I most certainly did NOT need to write a one shot now, but here it is anyway. Title is from halsey’s ‘finally//beautiful stranger’ (because I cannot stop listening to manic lol). The witchy backstory is (loosely) inspired by Kiki’s Delivery Service- but you don’t have to be familiar with the movie to read this! Honestly, I’m not thrilled with how this came out still, but I haven’t been happy with any rewrites.... so I’m gonna post this and hope at least one of y’all enjoy it? 😅

Autumn had softly fallen across the small town of Hawkins, Indiana. The trees were ablaze with their stunning annual colors; reds so deep and yellows so bright and orange tones that immediately wrapped nearby admirers in it’s natural warmth. The crisp air and the scent it brought with it trailed all around the woods at the edge of town, slowly flooding into the streets. The night sky appeared clearer with the cool temperatures, with stars so sharp, they felt just within reach.

It was the tail end of September, 1985, when Olive Lane flew across the night sky, letting a full moon guide her along the way. She had no absolute destination, still searching for a new place to call home for the next year.

“Oh, Sage, you can just feel the changes in the air!” Olive squealed, giving her cat, Sage, a quick rub behind the ears. He purred, delighted at the contact more than anything. His paws held him perfectly perched on the broomstick as Olive continued to soar through the air. Clutching onto the stick with one hand, she used a free hand to tighten her oversized scarf closer to her face. The tip of her nose stuck out, a bright berry red against the chilled air.

Sage meowed up at Olive, and she giggled back at him, understanding him easily. “We’re not stopping until I feel it’s right! I know it’s chilly, little man, but we’re almost there. I can feel it!”

Sage replied with more meows, carrying on a conversation that outsiders would be completely lost to. Olive and Sage had no problem communicating, though, just as if they were two average human beings. It was a witchy thing, most people didn’t get it.

“What’s that little place down there?” She wondered out loud, gazing down below past her dangling feet.

Sage meowed in response, almost sounding annoyed by Olive’s wonder and optimism.

“Listen, Mister Meows A Lot, I think this could be a good place to try! It’s small, seems quaint and quiet. I like that, and I know you do too.” She argued with the precious ball of fluff, and he huffed out, turning away from her. Olive just chuckled at his stubbornness.

“We’re stopping here, that’s final. If you wanted somewhere flashy like New York City, you should’ve found another witch to become a familiar to!” Olive joked, slowing the broomstick’s speed.

As they hovered and gently lowered closer above the town, she passed a sign that said “Welcome to Hawkins!” But the sign had been defaced, probably by some bored kids, she assumed. ‘Hawkins’ had been written over in red spray paint with the word ‘HELL’ instead.

“Some people need a hobby, huh?”

Sage growled in protest, sensing otherwise.

“Oh, c’mon, what’s the worst this town has seen anyway? Don’t give me bullshit about monsters or something.” Olive joked to herself, flying lower, now car level in the sleepy town’s streets.

It was well beyond midnight, and in a town like this, the coast was clear this time of night to fly freely. Not like people are clueless to witches, but they certainly have a worse reputation than they deserve. Olive kept to herself, so it was easier to keep her secret.

Olive flew down a street, only to do a harsh U-turn back to face an old, dilapidated, standalone apartment building. The bottom level had a store front sized window; must’ve been someone’s small business they lived above back in it’s heyday. No signs in sight for the property being up for sale or rent. Too rundown for anyone to even want to take on the burden of fixing it.

“We could fix this up, no problem! What do you think, Sage?”

Sage glared at her in response, “It’s not like you’d take my opinions into consideration anyway.”

Olive rolled her eyes, ignoring his attitude before gently settling her feet onto the ground. Sage hopped off the broomstick before she followed. They stood in front of the door, gazing in through the dusty windows, lined with cobwebs.

“We’ve only got a handful of hours before sunrise, let’s get to work!” Olive enthusiastically said, forcing the door open with a flick of a wrist. She and Sage entered, setting their things down on the dusty floor before beginning to quite literally work their magic on their newfound home.

———

“Steve?”

“Hm?”

“Has that building always been there?”

Steve groggily picked his head up from the checkout counter of Family Video, gazing out the front windows with sleepy eyes.

“What building?”

“The one that just magically appeared overnight?”

“Robin, buildings can’t just grow overnight.”

Robin scoffed, annoyed that it was too early for any of this shit and her best friend’s sarcasm.

“Yeah, Dingus, I’m well aware-“ Robin snapped, rubbing her eyes before taking another look out the window, “- But I swear that building was not as clean and bright yesterday.”

“Maybe someone finally bought it, cleaned it up while you weren’t here. Mind your business, Robin.” Steve joked, settling his head back down onto the counter. “Why are you so worked up over it anyway?”

“That looks like much more than a spit shine, Dingus. Hours- no- weeks- of fixing is showing on that building, and we’re just seeing it now?” Robin pointed out, absolutely bewildered.

Steve picked his head up again, glancing around to double check the store was still empty, and for a Monday morning, it sure was dead as expected. “This isn’t an Upside Down-related thing, you know. Relax. It’s okay, Robin.”

“No I-“ Robin hesitated before finishing her response. Was that why she was panicked? It could make sense; everything had her on edge these days after Starcourt fell to hell. What once made logical sense to her, was thrown out the window after her experiences being stuck in an underground Russian base and fighting off some of the scariest monsters only stories could spin up.

So of course any slight changes could throw her off track and cause her mind to create more conspiracy theories waiting to come to life.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. Sorry, Steve.” She said quietly, shaking her head. Steve patted her shoulder, understanding.

“No worries, just try to take it easy, yeah?” He responded sincerely. Robin nodded before heading off to a shelf she was restocking moments before, hoping to lose herself in her work.

———

A few weeks had passed, and Robin was still stumped over how the building across the street became so lived in overnight. There were no logical explanations, no matter how hard she racked her brain for one. She saw that building every day she was at work, and never paid much attention to it, only because it was worn down. Cobwebs littered the windows, there was trash and random belongings left behind inside, the paint was chipping off the window and door frames, and some of the building’s bricks were beginning to crumble off the outer walls.

But now? Now, now, the bricks were fine. They appeared as if they were just laid yesterday. The windows were clean and clear, gleaming in the Autumn sunlight. The painted spots were sporting fresh, glossy paint.

Now, now, now- a little sign hung off and above the doorway, indicating it was now a used bookstore. Bright green plants and vibrant petals on flowers were scattered about the windowsills both in the shop window and the space above. Through the windows, the space above seemed well lived in, too. Lace curtains hung among the windows, and she could see furniture in some spots.

It’s like one day she left work, and it was abandoned, and came in the next day to a completely different property just dropped out of the sky. There’s no way this could all just have happened overnight, but Robin was stubborn to see otherwise. It seemed like everyone else in Hawkins just... accepted it. Robin wouldn’t rest until she had answers, though.

“Steve, I’m taking my break now.” She called out, eyes locked on the building still. She watched people filter in and out; for a small, brand new business, it sure had a decent amount of shoppers already.

“Alrighty, Rob.” Steve responded, not looking up from the magazine he was casually leafing through.

Robin stomped out the door with a determination- determination for what? What the hell could bother her so much about this? Why does she care, anyway?

Her determination for answers, perhaps, carried her quickly across the street and to and through the door of the little bookshop that had her so worked up. A soft chime carried through the air behind Robin as she slammed her feet down into the shop, frustrated now.

Robin barely even noticed how the shelves were stocked with well worn, once loved books, practically spilling out onto the floor. It was a little messy, but still calm; a hideaway from the rest of Hawkins, the rest of the world, even.

A cat with a dusty light and dark brown spotted coat crossed her path, stopping Robin short in her tracks. Startled by the sudden movement, she gasped and stumbled back, trying to avoid stomping on the cat’s tail.

The cat let out a loud, but friendly meow towards her.

“Sorry ‘bout that! Sage doesn’t have the best of manners.”

Robin’s head snapped up to see feet away behind the counter, a girl around her age, holding the cat in her arms, smiling a soft, gentle smirk. Robin’s face grew red, not expecting someone so pretty to be running the shop, not expecting someone close in age to be the root of her frustrations around the mysterious shop.

“I- uh- I’m sorry-“ Robin couldn’t seem to string words into a comprehensive sentence, for once. Her sarcastic edge and determined attitude to get to the bottom of this mystery seemed to have melted away instantly.

“No, it’s fine, Mr. Sage is the one at fault, aren’t you, my little troublemaker?” The girl spoke up, scratching under the cat’s chin as she tried reassuring Robin that all was well.

Robin was completely stunned by the presence of this girl, speechless over the way her green-grey eyes shimmered as their eyes connected with each other. The girl’s hair flowed freely like a waterfall, a shiny blue-black with a naturally silver stripe among it. She was shorter than Robin, not by much, and curvier. Robin noticed how similarly she dressed to someone like Stevie Nicks, in a flowing shawl and skirt, and plenty of layers. She was different from most of the girls around Hawkins, and Robin figured she couldn’t be from here. She would have noticed someone like this instantly among everyone else in the small town.

“Helloooo?” The girl called out, pulling Robin from her thoughts and from staring so blatantly at the girl. Robin felt her face heat up again.

“Sorry, I- are you-“ Robin paused, thinking out her sentence fully. “Who the hell are you?”

Robin instantly cringed as the sentence fell out. Nope. No, Robin, that was not the way you wanted to get that out, but oh well.

“Excuse me?” The girl questioned, confused by this entire exchange even more now.

“This building has been empty for months, and then I show up to work one day and see it’s practically brand new! A brand new shop in a brand new building with a brand new person running it and living above it- what the hell is going on here, huh?” Robin continued, word vomiting at this point. The girl’s brows furrowed together.

“You’ve got some nerve barging in and being so forward before we even exchanged names, hm?” The mysterious girl smirked, and it wasn’t with ill intentions. Robin could still see her soft nature shining through. No, she was just amused at this point. “It’s cute.”

Robin felt the heat in her face rise up to her ears, and crossed her arms before looking down, trying to hide the blush.

“I’m Olive, but if you’re a little bit nicer to me,” Olive set Sage down gently on the floor, bending back up to meet Robin’s gaze. “I’ll let you call me Ollie like everyone else does when they’re not, y’know, yelling at me.”

“Shit. Shit, I’m sorry, Olive.” Robin shook her head, embarrassed by her actions. “A lot of weird shit has happened around here, it’s kind of hard not to be suspicious anymore.”

“You don’t say? Here I thought this was a cute, quiet small town to get a fresh start in. Fuck me, huh?” Olive laughed and shrugged. Her laugh, her voice was pure bliss to Robin’s ears.

“It’s a lot, like, a really long story, one that I just recently got caught up in. You definitely are better off not knowing about it.” Robin said, running her hand through her hair nervously. “I’m Robin, by the way. Sorry, really, I am-“

“Robin. It’s okay.” Olive reassured softly, that smile creeping back up onto her face. “Listen... I’m all ears to this wild story of yours if you’re so interested in mine.”

That was certainly not the response Robin expected, but out of disbelief, she nodded quickly. She was still determined to find out what the hell was happening here, but now she was more intrigued in this sweet girl; who she was, where she came from, what she was all about- Robin was instantly infatuated and wanted to know more, more, more.

Olive giggled at the taller girl, a blush forming across her own face now. “When are you done work?”

“Nine. Tonight. PM. Not like, tomorrow.” Robin mumbled out, realizing how foolish she sounded, but didn’t mind because it brought a giggle out of Olive’s lips once more.

“I would hope you weren’t working nearly 24 hours straight, Robin.” She teased, and Robin loved the way her name sounded when Olive said it. “If you wanna come by again after, maybe we could hang out, yeah? I make a really mean cup of tea, or so I’ve been told.”

“Yeah, absolutely. I’ll come back over then.” Robin said, tucking her hair behind her ear, backing up slowly. Nervously, she shifted her hands up into a sort of wave, not sure where to put them, “I’ll see you later, Olive.”

The chime softly rang out again as Robin opened the door. Olive thought the coast was clear, assuming the sound meant Robin left, and went back to watering her plants in the window, moving the watering can with a flick of her wrist, never actually picking it up.

Robin took one last glance in the store before leaving, and her breath hitched in her throat at the sight of a watering can floating midair. She rubbed her eyes as she began walking out.

No way, no fucking way. I’m tired. I’m wired. Tired and wired? They’re the same thing, anymore. It’s just my mind playing tricks on me. Chill out, Robin.

As she walked back into work, she didn’t dare glance back towards Olive’s side of the street.

———

9 PM came and left, 9:15, 9:38, 9:51 following with still no sign of Robin, and Olive was worried she said something wrong. She could see across the street, but made it a point to busy herself and not look like a total weirdo staring over at Family Video, anxiously waiting to see Robin again. Maybe she missed Robin head home instead.

“Sage, do you think I scared her off?”

Sage meowed, weaving in and out between Olive’s ankles, purring to reassure her. Olive knew, though. She had a feeling Robin was unsettled about something, she just wasn’t sure what. Maybe she came on too strong?

Olive glanced over to the store across the street, lights off, parking lot empty, and sighed.

“C’mon, Sage, let’s go to bed.” Olive whispered, and began climbing the little winding staircase in the back of the bookshop. Sage began to follow closely behind, both making their way to her apartment just above. Olive hoped she would get the chance to see Robin again the next day, at least.

———

Morning came and went, only moving slowly as Olive only had a few customers here and there. She glanced out the window and saw Robin walk into work, not even shooting a glance in Olive’s direction. Olive felt something had to be off, but still couldn’t figure out what.

By noon, she had decided to take a book over to Robin, as a peace offering. She left a little note inside, hoping Robin would read it, and maybe they could talk. Maybe they just got off on the wrong foot. Maybe Robin didn’t like girls like that, maybe she didn’t even like the possibility of new friends.

“I’ll be back, Sage!” She called out into the store, flipping the ‘open’ sign to ‘be back soon’, and headed across the street to Family Video. Before opening the door, she took in a deep breath, not sure why she was so nervous. Because she scared off a new friend? Assumed this girl could even want to flirt with her? She wasn’t clueless about how the world thought about anyone who identified as anything other than straight, but she could have sworn she picked up vibes that said otherwise. Olive was usually spot on with those vibes.

When she walked up to the counter, she saw a boy, probably near her age, trying to balance a stack of VHS tapes on the top of his head. She noticed his name tag said ‘Steve’.

“Hi-“ Olive started, startling Steve, causing the tapes to fall and clatter on the floor, caught off guard by Olive’s voice.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you!” She exclaimed, feeling bad. Steve laughed.

“No, you’re good, I really shouldn’t be doing stupid shit on the job. Just a slow morning. What’s up?” He asked, beginning to smile up at her, but his jaw dropped at his first sight of her.

“Um,” Olive suddenly felt shy, twirling her hair in a giant braid, trying to do something to occupy her shaky hands. “Is Robin here?”

“I- yeah, give me a second.” Steve said, still stunned at the pretty girl in front of him. Olive nodded, moving her hand to her bag to grasp the book she brought for Robin. Steve walked off to the back room, and Olive could hear hushed talking, but couldn’t make out specific words. A few minutes passed before Steve came back to the counter.

“She’s uh- she’s really swamped with work back there.” His eyes shifted off as he tapped the countertop, looking uncomfortable on what to say. “Do you want me to pass a message along?”

Olive sighed, pulling the small book out of her bag, and handed it towards Steve. “Could you just give this to her, please?” As soon as he grabbed it, Olive ducked her head down and quickly headed out the door before he could respond. Lost by what just happened, Steve watched her rush across the street before heading to the back where Robin was. She was sitting on the floor of the stock room, surrounded by empty VHS cases.

“Hey,” Steve said, nudging Robin’s shoulder with the small book. Robin looked up, hesitantly taking the book. The cover was tattered and worn, and was titled ‘All About Birds’ with a tiny paper sticking out from one of the pages. She opened it, letting it fall to the chapter about robins. Robin’s mouth quirked up in a tiny smile at the clever little gesture, before noticing the note.

Robin,

I’m sorry if I came off too strong yesterday. If you don’t want to be friends or anything, I totally get it. I wasn’t sure what your interests are, but this made me think of you. Get it? Because your name is Robin? Okay, maybe that was lame.

Anyway... my door is always open, even to cute girls who like to yell at me.

-Ollie

Robin’s eyes fell over the last line, and a blush crept up her face.

“So, you wanna tell me why some mysterious, stunning girl comes in here, wants to talk to you, and you tell me to send her away?” Steve asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe.

Robin’s eyes were glued to the note before she responded with, “Because I’m a fucking idiot.”

“Well, she seemed nice, maybe you could redeem yourself.” Steve said, shrugging, before walking back out to the store’s counter, muttering, “and you call me the dingus.”

Robin sighed loudly, flopping back onto the floor, mentally beating herself up for avoiding the sweet, mysterious girl, and not giving her a chance.

Hopefully it’s not too late to start off right.

———

The end of the day had come along, and Olive began cleaning and closing up shop. Just as she finished sweeping the floor, the door chime went off.

“I’m sorry, we’re closed now-“

“Ollie, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for ditching you and avoiding you since.” Robin cut her off, out of breath from sprinting across the street. Olive spun around to see Robin, and her eyes lit up.

“I got scared. You’re really nice, and sweet, and pretty- a-and I want to get to know you, I really do.” Robin began word vomiting, words tumbling out rapidly. Olive was genuinely surprised, having given up most hope of figuring out what went wrong between the two of them.

Olive placed the broom against the wall, walking a few steps closer to Robin. She laced her hands together, fidgeting her fingers around nervously. “Why did you get scared? Did I do something wrong?”

“No- no way. I’m just- I’m an absolute dingus and either saw something I shouldn’t have, or imagined it completely, and freaked out for no goddamn reason.” Robin admitted, biting her lip.

It’s then when it clicked for Olive, and she lightly smacked her forehead with her palm. “Oh no, you saw me- you saw me use my magic, didn’t you?”

Robin’s eyes grew wide, “So I wasn’t going crazy. That really happened? You- and the watering can-“

“I’m so sorry, Robin, I really didn’t mean to spook you! I swear, I only use magic for good, I’d never harm anyone with it-“

“So, what, are you like, a witch or something?”

Olive tucked her lips in and looked down before nodding sheepishly. “If that weirds you out, I totally get it- I didn’t mean to upset you-“

“And that’s why this place just- literally, magically changed overnight then?”

Olive began playing with the ends of her braid, still looking away, “I can leave town, if you’re uncomfortable by that. I’m sorry, Robin. I can pick up and train elsewhere-” Robin let out a sigh like she’d been holding her breath.

“What? That’s all?” Robin asked, expecting worse. “Olive, I don’t want you to feel like you have to leave, that’s ridiculous. You’ve made a home here.”

Olive’s head cautiously peeked back up at the taller girl. “... What do you mean, that’s all? You- you’re not afraid of me?”

Robin began to giggle uncontrollably, confusing Olive. “Afraid? No! I- look. I told you I’ve been through some shit. I’ve seen a lot of shit that still keeps me up at night. I thought I was going insane when I saw you use your magic. Trust me, this is a piece of cake compared to what I’ve seen.”

Olive’s shoulders relaxed a bit. “So why did you avoid me then?”

“I was a little nervous, that the bad stuff would be happening all over again. No way there’s a bad bone in you, though. You’re too sweet.”

“And that’s why you stomped through here yesterday, all suspicious and paranoid?” Olive asked, smile peeking out just a tad. Robin laughed, embarrassed, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Yeah... about that, I’m really sorry. That was rude of me. My defenses were just high-“

“It was rude, Robin.” Olive interjected, and Robin’s face fell. Olive cracked though, fully smiling up at her. “Make it up to me by hanging out tonight? If you’re not busy, of course.”

Robin nodded, grinning. “I’d like that. I heard you’re like, this world renowned tea maker, too.” Earning a giggle out of Olive before she gently reached for Robin’s hand, pulling her towards the staircase.

“C’mon then, I’ve got all the black tea in the world to keep us up all night while we share stories.” Olive joked as she climbed the stairs. Robin’s shoulders relaxed as she eased into the surroundings with Olive, instantly feeling comfortable around the odd girl.

It was the start of something new and beautiful, something Robin desperately needed these days.

———

Months had passed since Robin and Olive’s rocky start, but it only continued to bloom from the start, the real start. What was once cautious curiosity and paranoia for Robin, transformed into an honest and trusting friendship. Nights spent hanging out and getting to know one another became a routine, happening like clockwork. Long nights turned into long nights spent together, sometimes waking the next morning tangled around each other. Some nights, sleep was lost as Olive was caught up counting the freckles on Robin’s face, or when Robin watched Olive with anticipation as she practiced her spell work. Sometimes, Robin awoke from the same nightmares that have plagued her for months, and Olive was quick to bring her comfort in the form of soothing hugs and a cup of tea.

The bond, created by fate or whatever you’d like to call it, continued to only grow stronger as they shared stories and their time with one another, magically, naturally letting their lives mesh together. What was once harmless flirting, became feelings showing their true colors, but they just continued to dance around it, both too hesitant to make the first move.

“Robin, it’s snowing!” Olive tugged at Robin’s shirt sleeve, trying to drag her out of bed. Olive grunted, frustrated at how her favorite person could sleep like a rock.

Robin hummed, rolling over to the other side of the bed and away from Olive. “Ollie, it’s winter. Of course it’s snowing.”

Olive scrambled back into bed and on top of Robin, determined to wake the girl up.

“I’ve never seen snow before, Robin. We don’t get it back home.” Olive’s voice was soft and small. Robin’s eyes shot open, fighting the sleepiness, and her hands grabbed Olive’s hips, pulling a giggle from her lips.

“You what?!” Robin gently shoved Olive off of her and rolled out of bed. She began throwing layers of clothing on while Olive bounced on her heels impatiently, already bundled in her own warm clothing. Robin barely had her shoes on before Olive grabbed her hand and dragged her down the stairs.

They ran past Sage, cozily tucked into himself on an armchair in the shop, and out the backdoor, into the small yard behind the building. Snow was falling in heavy, fluffy clumps, and piling up quickly.

Olive’s jaw dropped as she saw it falling in front of her, amazed by the pure beauty nature could hold.

“Do you see this?!” She yelled, easily impressed. She tossed her gloves off, out stretching her fingers into the cold snowfall. “So beautiful!”

Robin didn’t give a damn about the snow, not taking her eyes off of Olive as she continued to ramble on about how amazed she was. This girl- who had never seen snow, but could fly a broomstick with ease, communicate with her cat like two friends chit-chatting, and perform spells with confidence - was the real sight of beauty to Robin. She couldn’t keep that to herself anymore. She didn’t want to keep her feelings to herself anymore.

Like magnets attracting, Robin walked up behind her, arms gently winding around Olive’s waist, and she could hear Olive’s breath pause for a second, surprised. The shorter girl turned to face her taller friend, biting her lip while a blush bloomed across her cheeks. Robin’s hands moved up to cradle Olive’s face, pulling their foreheads close together.

Softly, Robin asked, fighting off the nervousness, “I- is this alright?”. Olive’s head wildly nodded before leaning in first, impatient, lips meeting and her heart bursted with joy.

Olive tasted as sweet as she sounded and felt as soft as she appeared, and Robin felt herself melt into the kiss. Snow continued to fall around them as they pulled each other closer, falling into the safety of one another.

Smiling, Olive pulled back a bit, pressing their noses together. “Who knew you yelling at me months ago would lead up to this?”

Robin laughed, gently nudging Olive’s arm. “Shut up! I still feel so bad for that.”

“Make it up to me?” Olive smirked as she spoke her favorite playful words to tease Robin with anymore. Reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind Robin’s ear, and Robin nodded, grateful the universe gave her a real chance with Olive. Robin smiled back as she leaned in to kiss Olive again, and again, and again.

#robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x oc #robin buckley x you #robin buckley fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things x ofc #stranger things x oc #robin buckley x ofc #robin buckley fanfiction #beautiful stranger

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fromsolowithlove · 4 years

Text

Like a Sucker Punch - Complete

WARNING: REAL PERSON FANFICTION w/ Adam Driver & Daisy Ridley (Daiver)

WARNING TAGS: NSFW, INFIDELITY, CONSENSUAL INFIDELITY, EMOTIONAL INFIDELITY

Summary: Daisy gets in her head and tries to ignore unresolved feelings for Adam throughout the filming of the Star Wars Sequel Trilogy and the events that surround it. Each chapter inspired by a song from the lovely Sigrid.

Words: 11.2K

Rating: Very much E. NSFW. Unless you have a very understanding boss. Or are self-employed.

Ultimately decided to post the complete fic here on Tumblr as well, cause why the hell not? This little fic baby got its start here first anyways before moving onto AO3.

Again, this isn’t for you if you can’t stand the shipping of Daiver. In no way does this reflect my deep dark conspiracy theories. It’s just my work of FICTION. A fun outlet. An angsty rom-com, if you will, starring two people with fantastic natural chemistry.

Now that I’ve lost all my followers 😈, READ THE ENTIRE FIC BELOW👇🏽

Chapter 1 - Strangers

“How about a twenty, folks?” JJ called for a break after deciding something wasn’t quite right about the scene they were filming. Rey and Kylo’s kiss had to carry the weight of three movies worth of waiting. Everyone involved knew its scale. It couldn’t be half-assed.

“Let’s make it a tight twenty,” Adam clarified.

Daisy sat up first, letting her chest fall over her legs. She inhaled a deep breath as she felt the fatigue of the past week settle into her bones.

Adam reached for her hand and pulled her up to a standing position.

“I wish JJ would give us a little more in terms of what he wants,” he muttered.

Daisy pulled her mouth into a tight smile and replied, “Well you know what he said. He wants us to decide how the moment should go. Says we know best about how our characters would have felt finally getting to this point.”

“And yet he’s obviously not happy with whatever we’re giving him.” Adam’s voice rose, but he relaxed his shoulders and tried to shake it off. “Sorry Dais, you know I’m not frustrated with you.” He offered her a small smile in repentance, his mouth barely angling up, but eyes filled with warmth.

Daisy playfully slapped his chest with her open hand. “Uh-huh. SURE.” She turned to walk away, smiling to herself as she heard him let out a low chuckle.

She walked off to the side, picked up her water bottle and raised it to her lips. She let it absently fill her up as she stared at Adam across the way. She couldn’t believe the warmth that was developing in her stomach again. Her cheeks followed closely behind as the familiar flush returned. She wanted to slap herself.

Leading up to this point, Daisy had thought herself finally over him. Had she and Adam shared intimate moments during their prior years filming together? Of course. Skellig Michael was an especially treasured moment. After all, there had been such a small group of cast and crew present. It had made it easy to pretend this wasn’t some crazy heavy-budget movie that was resting on her shoulders. “Don’t go through the crew like wildfire!” Carrie had warned. And she hadn’t. Adam wasn’t the crew. He was her co-star. And did she know in her logical mind about the infamous co-star syndrome? Of course, she did. She quickly reminded herself of a time back at Tring Park. She had started feeling a deep fondness and attraction to her costar back in Romeo and Juliet. But just as her lines and blocking points had faded from memory with time, so had her attraction.

This thing with Adam, however, had not. And it angered her. Confused her. Made her unsure of whether she could trust herself. Made her question if she had it in her to continue a career as an actress. Would she fall for every costar she ever had? Jeez, wouldn’t that be embarrassing? No one would want to hire a walking lawsuit waiting to happen. A little voice deep inside had always told her that she was a fraud. That she didn't deserve to be in the presence of the great actors that she called friends and coworkers.

“You know… I’ve got this friend who’s working on casting ‘Into the Woods’. I could throw your name her way. I see you as the perfect Milky White.”

Suddenly, Daisy was snapped back to reality by a teasing voice to her right. She raised her eyebrows and side-eyed the man who had been occupying her thoughts.

“What?”

“You know. Because you just finished that water bottle in one swig and cows really love water,” Adam began to explain.

“I thought that was camels?”

“Nope. Cows.” He paused for a brief moment before adding in, “Yeah, definitely cows.”

“You’re an odd one, bestie,” she teased.

“And yet, you’re still here.”

As if I had a choice. Trust me, I’ve been trying to put up my distance, she thought.

Before she had a chance to respond with another snarky response, JJ called an end to their break.

Another deep breath.

“Shall we resume the most frustrating scene ever, then?” she asked Adam.

He shuffled his feet and gazed out to the side, refusing to meet her eyes. “Very true. I honestly didn’t think it would be this hard.”

“Ehhh, it’s all me. You’re perfect as always, Adam.” She blushed and ran off, chiding herself for acting like a stupid school girl.

Despite her embarrassment, the break must have helped. Only a few takes later, Daisy found herself in the most comfortable staring contest with Adam. It was a moment that she wished she could have frozen forever.

Except that she shouldn’t have been thinking of Adam. She should have been thinking of Ben.

At the realization that she was letting her personal feelings bleed into her acting, she wrinkled her nose in frustration. “DAMN IT," she shouted. "I’m so sorry everyone! This next one is it, I swear.”

Adam reached over and placed his hand over hers. He gave her a small smile and she quietly cursed her heart. Its increasing pace threatened to give her secret away. “It’s okay," he said. "I feel it too. We’re almost there.”

Both of them were right, and JJ declared the last take as “THE ONE”. The room erupted with whooping and hollering. Everyone began circulating with hugs, thank-yous, and high fives. Daisy second-guessed going over to Adam, but knew it would be even more telling to avoid him.

When she reached him, she did her best to give a small hug. Adam, however, wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her in tighter.

“Well, it’s been great,” she started. “Thank you so much. It’s truly been an honor to work with you, Adam.” Her eyes started to well, knowing things between them would never be the same again. Hell, they hadn’t been this whole time.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry.” Adam’s words were barely louder than a whisper.

“For what?”

“You know. For everything. For making things weird between us. I, I never should have -"

“Never should have what?” she challenged. Should have let me fall in love with you? Treated me like I was yours? Let me believe we could ever be more than this great act of pretend? Those last thoughts rattled at the gate of her mouth, but remained hers to keep.

He glanced down, unable to handle her gaze that begged him for words he couldn’t say out loud.

“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about Adam. It’s been nothing but the best professional experience.”

He winced, and for a moment, Daisy almost felt guilty. But the anger and pain returned swiftly. She felt all too happy to have made him feel what she imagined to be only a small fraction of her own torment.

“To our amazing leads!” someone toasted a few feet over. “I’ve worked on a lot of movies, and it’s rare we get two incredible actors like you both. You made me believe I was watching a true relationship unfold, not just two really well-acted characters. To Daisy and Adam! To making us believe in the unreal.”

Everyone cheered in agreement around them and Daisy felt her heart rise up to her throat.

Exactly Dais. The unreal.

Suddenly, it was all too much to handle and Daisy could no longer stand to be around anyone. She gave them all a quick glance, muttered thanks and ran off. Once she returned to her dressing room, she turned her speakers back on. She started laughing through runny tears at the irony of Sigrid’s lyrics that filled the space.

When the curtain drops

Our touch is just a touch

Not like in the movies

Our story’s after the end

Like strangers

Perfect pretenders

We’re falling head over heels

For something that ain’t real

It could never be us, eh

Just you and I

Chapter 2 - Mine Right Now

Two Years Earlier

“Amazing work, both of you! Now go do something fun. Relaxing. Happy. Today’s scene was so emotionally taxing. I couldn’t bear to be responsible for any dark spiraling that follows today.”

“Oh, it's really alright. I take full responsibility for my own dark spiraling, Rian,” Adam joked.

“Well true as that may be, I am serious. You've both earned a night of not thinking about work. I'll see you tomorrow.”

Rian gave them both a quick hug before leaving them to finish gathering their things.

Daisy cleared her throat before she could back out. “So, what do you say, Driver? How about a little drinky poo?” She wiggled her eyebrows at her co-star suggestively before bursting into laughter.

“Sure. As long as you promise not to judge me for ordering a cocktail.”

Praying that her face wasn’t showing her utter shock, she continued to push her luck. “You’re kidding! You never go out! With the crew. With me. Mysterious Adam Driver slums it with Daisy Ridley? What would the missus think?!”

“Dais…” She watched as he ran his hands through his hair, certain that she had crossed a line.

“Sorry. So sorry. Uncalled for.”

“I just don't like to talk about Joa-, my wife a lot.”

Of course, he didn't. Not with coworkers at least. She was kidding herself to think they were anything more than that. Trying to salvage the situation, she asked, “Too late to throw in my white flag?”

He stared at her longer than he ever had outside of filming. “Not at all. But let's head out before it gets too late. I've got an early training session tomorrow.”

Relieved that she hadn't completely blown it, she felt her heartbeat pick back up. This was really about to happen. She was going to be alone with Adam and, by orders from the boss man himself - prohibited from talking about work. “Right, of course. I'll meet you outside in five?”

He gave her a small nod before turning to leave her to her things.

Her bag was already packed, but she used the next five minutes to compose herself. Tonight would be uncharted territory. Her relationship with Adam had grown into a fond friendship over the last two years. And so had her attraction to him. She rationalized it to herself as the intimacy of a truly trusting professional relationship. After all, they had to trust each other with abandon to pull off the demands of stunts and emotional scene work. Still, somewhere deep down she knew that for her, this was more than just trusting a coworker or friend. On the other hand, she could happily say that she wasn't the only one guilty of flirting now and again.

When she met him outside, he led her to his car. She was tired beyond her wits and grateful to have him drive.

“Where to?” He asked. “The Bridge Bar?”

“No. That's where the crew always goes.”

“Don't wanna be seen with the big bad villain, huh?”

“Yes. I mean, no!” Words escaped her as she tried to explain herself. “All I mean is that...I agree with Rian. Today was a lot. And I'd rather not have to socialize with anyone at the moment.”

“Oh. I can drive you back to the hotel, then. I just thought...since you had asked...that -”

“I'm trying to say I just want to be alone with you!” she blurted.

“Oh.” Her frustration built at Adam's sudden lack of articulation and her blatant confession.

“God. That sounded creepy as hell. Please, can we forget I ever opened my mouth? Just take me to get a drink somewhere, Adam. Anywhere but the Bridge Bar. Please.”

His eyes met hers for only a moment before he drove off with a quick nod.

The drive couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes. Yet somehow, it was both the longest and shortest stretch of time. Adam, apparently still shell shocked by his pushy costar, hadn't said anything to her. Well, except to point out a few key places of local history. Fear brewed in her stomach as she resigned herself to the fact that he would probably call his agent after this. He would make his agent promise that he'd never have to work with someone as unprofessional as her again.

The silence was good for one thing, though. She figured her career and their relationship, working or otherwise, were both soon to be over. So she used the time to check him out free of shame. She focused first on his hands. The way his fingers tapped like a pianist against the steering wheel at every stop. It made her wonder how they would feel tapping against her skin. His legs were still too large for the space, despite his seat being pulled back to the furthest setting. In fact, if she were to straddle him right now, she'd likely slide right down his thighs. It'd bring her right where she wanted to be, pressed up against his hardness. She pictured the intimacy of that position, how his face would be easily within her reach. How she could run her hands into his hair and bite down into his full lips. She'd be able to watch him lift an eyebrow at her, just like he was doing now.

Oh shit, like he was doing now. He had definitely caught her fantasizing about him.

He looked thoroughly amused. “Everything alright?”

“Course.” She refused to accept defeat and wrinkled her nose in defense. “Now stop staring at me like... THAT and let's go!”

An hour later, she was on her third pint and Adam was still nursing his first cocktail. She looked from his face to his glass and back.

“You make me feel like an alchy!”

He let a low chuckle. “I told you, I've got training early tomorrow. If I go any heavier than this, I'm going to regret it. Just trying to be responsible.”

“How about this right now? Coming out with me. Is it part of your plan to be responsible?” Oh...so aggressively-honest, drunk Daisy was here to play.

A small shake of his head. “ Honestly? Still haven't decided.”

“Is that why you never hang out with me?”

“No. You've just never invited me before.”

“That's not true!”

“In groups, yes... But you know me. I don't do…people. Large groups, anyways,” Adam shrugged.

“Does that mean if I had asked you and it was only us, you would've said yes?”

He chuckled nervously. “Well, I'm here tonight, aren't I?”

She poked him in the shoulder and elicited a small OWW. “I'm honestly quite mad now. That's critical intel you've been keeping from me. We could've been besties by now!” she whined.

“Besties, huh?”

“Yes, that's right.”

“Ok. Then we’re besties. Anything you want.”

Before she could catch it, the small suggestion escaped in a rasp she didn’t know she had. “Anything?”

He gulped and met her eyes. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was just her giving in to years of repressed wants. She slowly got up from the table, still holding his gaze. She turned and started toward the back of the bar. The jury was still out on whether it was to leave the burn of his stare or to initiate something incredibly risky.

There wasn’t enough time to consider her motives when she felt her body go on high alert. The darkness of the hallway intensified all her other senses. She knew it was him even before his hand slid across her back to grip her waist. It was the way he walked so gently to avoid disturbing a space. The way he took slow calculated steps in consideration of everyone smaller than him.

Instead of turning her toward him, he closed their gap and brought his mouth down against her ear. She braced herself for the warmth of his lips but shivered as he spoke. “I’m a simple guy, Daisy. I don’t do games. I told you that you can have anything you want. And right now, I want to kiss you. Is that what you want?”

She turned around and tilted her head back to accommodate for how much bigger he was than her. The urge to wrap her hands around his neck was almost magnetic, but she fought it. It was possible that she might not survive the electricity of feeling his skin under her fingers. His hands slid down to hold her by her hips, apparently just as stubborn as she was to avoid making the first move. Hurried breaths reached her ears but she didn’t know which of them it was coming from.

She felt him studying her face and instinctively bit down on her lower lip. He seemed to acknowledge this movement as an agreement. Before she could brace herself, he said “Fuck it” and crashed against her mouth.

As soon as he felt her melt into the kiss, there was nothing tender about his attack. Her fingers laced into his hair, urging his tongue to press harder against hers. Adam lifted her up and slammed her back against the wall. At this angle, there was no doubt that he wanted this as badly as she did. She rolled her hips against his and the groan that escaped his mouth filled every hollow of her body.

It was more than she could have ever imagined. Tongues fought for dominance as they battled to memorize every curve and point of each other’s mouth. But it wasn’t enough. Now that she knew this need wasn’t one-sided, she was greedy and was going to take what she wanted.

“Bathroom,” she muttered against his lips. He understood immediately and walked them into the first door. Her bottom still sat against his forearms and legs wrapped around his waist. Once they entered, the lock of the door signaled more danger. The heat at her core grew.

She whimpered as he set her down, lamenting the loss of his body weight against hers. Her annoyance didn’t last long, though, as he flattened his palm between her legs.

“Let me make you feel good.”

“Already there,” she huffed out.

“Trust me, Dais.” He smothered her with another cardiac arrest-inducing kiss. “This is only the surface of how good you and I can feel together.”

With that, he invaded her leggings as his middle finger ran up and down her wetness.

“Oh god. Adam, I-I. Please don’t stop.”

He continued his slow teasing as she watched him swallow. “I told you. Anything you want. But not even the apocalypse could stop me from stroking you right now.”

She laughed at him. “Only you could make me feel this turned on and ready to burst with laughter at the same time.”

“Only actively trying at one of those right now,” he grunted. “But happy to help.”

Her smile quickly faded as her chin dropped and a moan broke free.

His finger ran its way up to her clit before sliding back down to push into her entrance.

He absorbed her moan with his mouth and flicked his tongue against hers. She imagined him repeating the motion where his finger was now working. She clenched but soon released. As close as she was to the edge, she wasn’t willing to let him off this easily.

She rubbed her hand against the hardness threatening to break the fly of his pants. He closed his eyes and let out a small whimper. She slowly pulled back, reaching to bring her leggings down to her knees. She turned to bend over against the sink.

“Please, I need to feel you inside me.”

She watched as Adam moved toward her slowly, each second that she waited for him feeling like torture. His hand found her entrance again, now sliding in two fingers. He pumped into her slower this time, leaning over her smaller frame.

“You’ve got to be crazy if you think I’m gonna fuck you here in this bathroom. I’ve thought about this for too long to end it with a quickie. Let’s go back to the hotel.”

She worked her hips against his hand for a bit longer before accepting defeat. Immediately, part of her worried that he was using this as an excuse to break off whatever this was. But another part considered what could happen within the walls of a hotel room.

The drive back felt like punishment. The only thing that stopped her from worrying was the fact that she felt the buzz of his need for her in the air. Every glance he threw her way was full of hunger. She thanked all her lucky stars that he had only had one drink. Having to walk back to the hotel would’ve taken even longer and would’ve surely put a stop to this.

Once they got to the hotel, they navigated the lobby and hallway with caution. They both knew to keep their distance. Without discussion, she led him to her room, making out with him as soon as his tall frame was through the threshold.

Hands on his belt, she inched backward toward her bed. Suddenly, she felt Adam pull back.

His hands ran through his hair, a sure tell of his discomfort.

“We shouldn't be doing this. I've been so good at trying to keep things professional between us. From the very first table read, I saw you and knew I had to be careful. It helped to remind myself that this was your first big film. But this second film has been different. So much more comfortable. Like we’ve known each other forever. I find myself constantly wanting to be around you. Telling myself that you’ve got no reason outside of work to spend time with me is a daily routine. But then you invited me out and I got high on the thought that someone like you might want me, too. But I let it get too far. This was a mistake. I should go.”

She couldn’t believe the audacity he had to tell her those things. Her face flushed, no longer from being turned on, but instead from anger.

“Well fuck you, Adam. You're a FUCKING COWARD!”

He matched the disgust in her voice. “I'm fucking married, Daisy.”

“Oh, I'm well aware. Every day that I pretend it's only my character that's pulled toward you? I remind myself you're married. On the days we don't work together and I sit wishing you were there with me? I remind myself you're married. It might as well be tattooed on my bloody tongue considering how many times I have to tell myself. So don't pretend you're doing me a favor by telling me something that does absolutely nothing to stop me from wanting you !”

She panted with exasperation.

“It should.”

“Well, it doesn't. I’m not asking for forever, Adam. I’m just asking you to be mine right now. I know how this plays out. I always have. And spoiler alert, in no version of our story does it end with you and I walking hand in hand through a hardware store, picking out wallpaper for our future child's room. It does, however, always end with me in England and you going back to HER,” she spat out. “So either hand me that bottle of tequila so I can forget this ever happened or be a man and finish what you fucking started. ”

The hunger was back in his eyes as they dared each other to blink first.

“I'm going to hell for this,” he said through gritted teeth, taking a step toward her.

“I'll see you there,” she smirked.

Clothes flew off in a race as they stumbled onto the bed. She laid back and gasped when she saw how big he was.

Adam worked to cover her entire body with kisses that she was convinced would leave marks. “I have to tell you something.”

“What’s that?” he asked absently, lightly grazing her nipple with his teeth.

She struggled to focus, her desire battling with any coherent thoughts.

“I have a, a condition” she breathed out between moans.

“Ok,” he acknowledged, moving on to treat her second nipple to the same attention.

“It-it makes it painful for me to take anything...anyone...too...OH MY GOD. Too deep.” He blew against her nipple as she tried to finish. “And... I think ...you would get very deep.”

A smirk stretched across his face. “Then you let me know if it’s too much.” His fingers found her folds again, dripping with her need to feel him. “How should I take you?”

“Any way you want,” she breathed out. “I’ll let you know if I can’t handle it.”

Adam began to look around and she realized what he was looking for.

“Oh. And I, uh, have an IUD because of the condition. It’s actually easier for me to take you if you don’t wear a condom.”

He growled, then grabbed his length in his hand and began rubbing himself against her opening. She could feel her need coating him. She lifted her hips and he accepted her offer with a slow thrust into her center. He filled her like no one had before, except maybe a toy her sister had gifted her as a gag gift.

“Daisy…” he moaned, his solid biceps holding himself up to keep from penetrating her too deeply.

He stayed there just like that for a while, wrapped by her and taking short breaths. Knowing that he was probably nervous to hurt her sent a pang to her heart.

“I. You. You feel so good. You can give me more,” she pleaded. “Not deeper, just, it feels so good when you slide in me.”

Still balancing his weight over her body, he began to fuck into her faster. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve rubbed my cock wishing it were you around me,” he said.

She squeezed in response. He responded by pulling out and sliding back in agonizingly slow.

Her patience had left her from the moment he touched her in the bar hallway. She began to move her hips in a figure-eight motion, urging him to leave his mark in every part of her. He took her hint and picked up his tempo, being happily rewarded with her repetitive moaning of his name.

Adam stared at her, his gaze unwavering. He had a unique way of making her feel nothing and everything all at once. It was a feeling she could get used to, even feel possessive over. And with that thought, she cursed herself for confusing this for something more. She zoned back into reality and pushed against his shoulder while using her hips to flip him over. He groaned in delight at the position change and she ground into his hardness. Anxious to rid the moment of any sentiment, she began bouncing up and down along his length. He ran his hand up her thigh and over her hip. He continued to move inward until his thumb found her clit, palm still resting flat against her stomach. God, the size of this man was enough to make her come.

Feeling her pick up speed, he urged her on. “Come for me, Daisy. Let yourself go on this hard cock. You love how hard I am for you, don’t you?” He continued rubbing soft circles into her clit. Matched with his words, it was enough for her to cry out his name.

She unraveled onto his chest just as she felt him grunt and fill her. Waves of satisfaction continued to pass as they laid together. He cradled her against him as they waited for their breaths to slow.

He slowly lifted her off of him and turned her to face him. He kissed her softly and lay his head back against the pillow. His eyes seemed to search hers for answers on how to handle this transition back into reality. Not having a clue, she chose the easy way out and turned her back to him to lay on her side. Adam took it as an invitation for another level of intimacy. Her whole body tensed and released as she felt him lay tiny kisses behind her ear. He worked downwards, finally settling his chin into the crook of her neck. He reached for her hand and laced their fingers together.

She sighed, knowing what she needed to do. “3, 2, 1. Okay. Here goes. I’m about to do the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life.”

“No, you just finished doing the hardest thing you’ve ever done in your life like...two minutes ago.”

“Wow. What a terribly awful innuendo that was.”

“But not untrue?” he teased.

“I’m serious. Adam, as much as it pains me to say this. I think you should go. This was truly...unbelievable. Like, really, really, good. But like I said, I don't expect anything else from this. From you. But if you stay the night...I just might get confused.”

“No.”

“No? Not really up for debate. Go.” She used all her strength to push the giant out of her bed.

He stood but didn’t make any movement to get ready. “I won’t.”

She threw on her sternest face and blinked slowly. “I’m saying you have to.”

Undeterred by her insistence, he stroked her cheek with his thumb and settled it against her lips. “Shh, you’re mine right now.”

That was enough to make her give up her fight and pull his face down to hers. They resumed their earlier position as he turned her onto her side. His body spooned hers protectively and he planted a gentle kiss against her shoulder. It seemed to be his new favorite spot. Her stomach dropped and filled with fear and guilt. She closed her eyes and hoped that sleep would come soon - knowing it was too late to avoid the crash and burn.

Chapter 3 - Don’t Feel Like Crying

Daisy’s alarm went off on her phone as she dragged the starched hotel pillow over her head.

“Shut up, you!”

She fumbled to find the source of her disturbance and squeezed until the ringing stopped. It was still dark out and she didn’t know who she had pissed off to be called in at such a god-awful hour.

She was being dramatic.

In actuality, she knew she hadn’t angered anyone. Strange hours were a well-known consequence of her chosen profession. But she also knew her internal body clock wasn't wired for this.

Over the past month, Daisy hadn’t spent more than three nights in a single bed. As she glanced in the mirror, she could see it was beginning to take a toll on her. She adored the world of professional acting - but, the press and promos? Not so much. I’ll be looking 40 before I even turn 30, she thought, reaching for her eye cream.

She moved like a zombie through her hotel room, choosing vegan snacks and a tea tumbler in place of brains. Today was going to be another long stretch, but in a few more days, it would all be over.

Over. What a strange concept that was. She allowed herself to think back to the very first press tour for The Force Awakens. It was all so new and exciting back then. It had been nerve-wracking of course, but there was also something so special about that time. Her heart twinged as she remembered that year with fondness. In spite of the whirlwind of interviews, red carpets, and photoshoots, she had formed new bonds. It was a time of getting to know her castmates, crew members, hair and makeup artists.

And him, her ugly conscience reminded her.

Right. Him.

He had slightly more experience than her when it came to the press, but that didn’t make him hate it any less. Like her, he had never done anything on so large a scale. The pressure to be someone that both kids and adults could relate to was a different kind of terrifying. Naturally, they had latched onto one another. Her delightful inexperience with the industry offset his social unease and aloof tendencies. They would find ways to make each other laugh after answering the same question for the tenth time that day. Late nights were spent walking through foreign cities in disguises. Forced together by a job, they had become close friends.

And then there was the filming of The Last Jedi. Friends soon grew into something more. There was a closeness between them, the kind one would find between childhood mates. A sense of protection and duty to the other. Yet, too fused with desire to call it platonic. There was no proper label for what they were. Not when there was a stifling awareness of their complex situation. After that first night together, they had spent a few more weeks in a bubble of their own. It wasn’t all smiles, but it was all theirs.

Still, she wasn’t wrong when she had told him, “In no version of our story does it end with you and I…”

They had both seen the ending from the start. He had tried to pull away before it even began. She had tried to protect her heart by keeping it fun. In the end, none of that did anything to lessen the pain.

“Daisy,” he whispered over the phone. She could tell he had been drinking. The sun was beginning to wake London which meant it was the middle of the night in New York.

“Joanne’s pregnant,” he forced out.

Any other time, she would have made a smartass comment about his voice cracking. But now, no words rose.

She heard him take a few more breaths as if he was going to say more. When she continued to sit there in silence, he began again.

“I know we were supposed to meet up but –“

It was too much. Daisy hung up the call and threw her phone onto the mattress, watching it bounce onto the floor. Her body shook violently as tears spilled out. A buzz against the hardwood signaled another incoming call. She didn’t need to look to see who it was.

“FUCKING HELL!” she screamed into the empty apartment. Unintelligible cries came out in waves, sounding more hoarse and strained as they went on.

Minutes, then hours passed until she finally went numb.

“Excuse me, miss? Are you alright?” Somehow, Daisy had made it from her hotel room into the elevator, whose doors now opened to the lobby. She wondered how long she had been stuck here in her memories.

“Oh, yes. I’m so sorry to hold you up.”

She left the elevator and threw on a smile. This is your dream, Daisy. Remember? The wound is where the light enters. The wound is where the light enters.

The day had been a blur of photoshoots, interviews, and trials for tomorrow’s premiere look. In theory, she should’ve been very tired by now. Yet, she lay on top of her covers nursing nervous energy. What did she have to be nervous about?

Besides everyone hating the movie that you’re at the center of? she thought.

It seemed her old friend, anxiety, was right on schedule.

She considered heading to the gym. Maybe she could work off the negative energy. But this was Los Angeles, not London. She was sure to be mobbed, disguise or not. Her phone vibrated on the side table and she reluctantly stole a glance.

Joanne will be with me tomorrow at the premiere. Looking forward to seeing you. - A

The nausea and shortness of breath that followed confirmed a fear. She was, in fact, nervous about more than just the reception of the film.

---

“Come, everyone! I need more selfies to remember you all by!”

It was a fact that no one could ever deny Joonas his selfies. There were kind people in the world, good people, even - and then there was Joonas. Daisy paused mid-conversation with John to squeeze in for the photo. Adam turned around from his discussion as well and offered her a small smile. Her stomach felt like it was filling with helium until she shook her head and body into submission. She responded with a small “hello” before turning her gaze to Joonas’ phone.

Joonas studied the photo with pleasure and brought his friends in for a quick hug. He asked them what they had been up to since they last saw one another. Their answers went unheard when his manager came to steal him away. John's agent soon followed and he checked in with Daisy with his eyes. "I'll see you in a bit, Peanut?" She feigned contentment and gave a small nod.

The unease washed over her again when Daisy was finally alone with Adam.

He cleared his throat. “You look beautiful, Dais.”

“That’s very kind, thank you. You look quite handsome as well.”

Pleasantries continued and she hardly recognized the words she was hearing. She and Adam despised small talk. This wasn't them. But then again, "them" was a long-forgotten memory.

At the realization, Daisy sighed and dropped her guard. Her eyes darkened. “Why did you text me, Adam?”

“Oh. I wasn't sure if you had received it.”

“Why,” she repeated, losing her patience.

“I don’t know. I thought you should know. That you might...want to know?” He was starting to gesture his hands wildly and she knew she had caught him off guard. “I...after the way we left off at the end of filming...I thought you might want to...prepare yourself? But that was presumptuous of me, I’m sorry. You’re clearly okay. Very okay. ”

When she didn’t respond, Adam scratched the back of his neck. “So uh, I got a chance to see bits of interviews you’ve done. You didn’t have to say all those nice things, you know. Especially after everything that happened.”

“Why not? There’s no point in lying. Also, it’s strange,” she paused. “Cause you see, whenever I’m in an interview and someone asks me something, and I go oh! There was that one time that Adam and I - And at first I would think, God, you can’t share that, Dais! You’ll look like a lovesick puppy. All the headlines will read, Daisy Ridley, a Fool for Her Co-star? But then I decided that I didn't care. That as long as I had all these memories, really fun and dear ones - it meant that it was real.”

“Of course it was real.”

She led him into a smaller hallway. This conversation was never part of the plan, but she knew that any news of it could hurt both her and Adam in a way that would be unsalvageable.

“How can you be so sure? You’re the one who walked away.”

“That’s not fair. You never gave me a chance to figure it out.”

“Bloody hell, Adam. There was nothing to figure out. When you called me to tell me you were going to be a father, you’d already made your choice. You only called because, in some sick, twisted way, you were hoping for my permission. You needed me to tell you it was okay.”

“No, I needed you to know how complicated it was.”

She took a deep breath and turned to face the wall. “The wound is where the light enters. The wound is where the light enters,” she whispered.

"What was that?"

She turned back, ignoring him and taking in his contorted expression. She straightened her spine and began. “I promised myself I was past this. So yes. It WAS complicated. But now - it’s not. There has to be something there for things to be complicated.”

“It’s still complicated for me,” he bit out.

“Please...just stop. Look, you were right. Just like always, you’re right. Between seeing you here and being sent everywhere to perform a dog and pony show, I’m not okay. Not even close. But being out here doing all this right now? The promotion and press - it's somehow the only thing helping me keep it together. As long as I’m busy, I don’t feel like crying."

He continued to stare at her but didn't venture a response. It seemed he no longer wished to argue, just listen.

She went on. "Don’t get me wrong. I understand how stupid I sound, whining about all of it. I understand the immense luck I’ve had that I get to do this for a living. You taught me that. But...I think I just need to be home for a bit. Need to lock myself up for a while. Sure, I’ll keep grinding it out and praying that someone sees me beyond this...circus. Get employed and all. But I just need a break.”

His eyes hadn’t left hers, so she broke the contact and spoke at her hands which she'd been wringing unknowingly.

“So please, let me go out there and do the old song and dance. Hug my friends, say goodbye to the role. Then I’ll go home to London and we'll never have to see each other again.”

“You can’t know that," his voice emerged, shaken by the finality of her statement.

She smiled gently and raised her eyes once more. “But I do. Everyone does. You and I no longer run in the same circles. You are...a force of nature, Adam. Like the ocean. You're reckless. Dangerous. But so damn beautiful to watch. Leaving a mark on everything you touch simply by being yourself. Me though, I'm just a rock that got swept up in your tide. Inevitably and forever changed by you, but unable to leave any impressions in return.”

She felt the heat forming behind her eyes and turned to leave before small droplets betrayed her. He grabbed for her hand but she pulled away in time. "Don't go," he whispered.

She turned with a final glance. "Thank you for everything, Adam. I don't regret a thing. But you don't get to decide things for me anymore."

Chapter 4 - Home to You

The sea air assaulted all her senses and she closed her eyes to let it wash over her. For the first time in months, she felt like she could breathe without struggle. Sure, the air was humid and rain was guaranteed to be waiting in the wings. But, it was freeing to be outside with absolutely no agenda.

She laughed.

That wasn't entirely true. She did have an agenda. But it was one all her own. This visit was all about leaving the bubble that her life has become, even if just for a few moments. It was about moving on. About liking herself again.

She had planned this trip a couple of months ago. She would have forgotten about it had her sisters not reminded her.

“Hush your beak, Dais,” Kika said. “You’re being absolutely ridiculous.”

“Am I?"

“Completely. You're not going to die a miserable, lonely, spinster.”

“I didn't say miserable and lonely!” She glared at her flesh and blood.

“Both of you. That's enough,” Poppy chimed in. “But Daisy, I do agree. Just because it sucks right now doesn't mean you're out of luck for the rest of your life. You made the right choice.”

“Breaking off an engagement. I'm the quintessential dumb millennial,” Daisy groaned.

“No, dumb would've been ignoring your true feelings. Your energy deserves to exist unbound. So do you.”

“But I don't feeeeeel unbound. I feel like some sort of gross hairball just stuck there waiting to be coughed out whenever the cat deems ready.”

Kika snorted and Poppy soon followed. Both her sisters unraveled into fits of giggles. After throwing a pillow at Kika's head, Daisy joined in.

The night had gone much like this. Tears, giggles, refill wine glasses. Repeat.

Daisy caught her breath from the laugh attack and sighed. “So what do I do now? Shut everyone out and vanish to a secluded place to find myself? ‘Eat Pray Love’ this out?”

“That's not a terrible idea,” said Poppy.

“I was only kidding. Mine isn't exactly a life you just walk out on without heavy speculation. Not even Joaquin Phoenix quit acting successfully.”

“Always the drama queen, Dais,” Kika muttered with a roll of her eyes. “But maybe it wouldn't hurt to take a vacation. Just a small one. Go. Grab your laptop. Let's find you someplace nice.”

Where to go? Where to go? she thought to herself. Her sisters chimed in with suggestions but she insisted on making the choice herself.

In a fog of restlessness, hurt, and nostalgia, she clicked away to her heart’s content. Thirty minutes later, she shut the lid. “Done,” she smiled, feeling victorious.

After reading the confirmation email the next morning, she considered canceling it. Choosing to travel there was a bad idea. Her finger hovered over the button as she thought about it more. There was a possibility that this could be the closure she needed to begin the next chapter of her life.

“Good morning!” a man called out. Daisy snapped out of her daydream and greeted the man she assumed was her driver.

“We're heading to Dingle, correct?”

An inhale. Then an exhale. It's too late to back out now, she told herself. “Yes. Thank you so much,” she answered with a smile.

---

A week and a half had passed since she had arrived in Ireland. She sat with her morning tea and sipped it, taking in how at peace she felt. She felt like the old Daisy, again. Or maybe a new one. It was hard to tell. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so present in a moment.

Her stay hadn’t been all magical. The prior week was a different picture in all respects. Like torrential rains, Daisy was never at balance. One second, she felt euphoria from being in one of her favorite places. The next, only bittersweet flashbacks of memories to a time spent with someone who wasn't hers.

Phone in hand, she stared at the photo of the cliffside she had snapped on her drive the day before. It was nondescript enough - and she wasn't in it. But he would know where it was.

She only had a few days left before going home and she had been toying with the idea of reaching out to him for closure. During a sob-filled emergency phone session, her therapist had assured her it wasn’t necessary. But Daisy wanted to. Was determined to. Where better than from here, the place they had first fallen into this mess? She wanted to rewrite the narrative and make new memories in this place. She wanted to return home without burden.

Saw this view and couldn't help thinking of you. She deleted the words and tried again. While it was true, she had to establish boundaries. She didn't want him to think she was opening up the door to anything unhealthy. This was about making peace with the past and trying to relearn a friendship with him.

Recognize this? she typed. “That seems harmless enough,” she told herself.

“1, 2, 3, SEND!” Her finger froze. She got up and walked onto the balcony. She hoped some fresh air would give her the nerve. She repeated the countdown again. “You’ve got this, Dais!”

She couldn’t do it. She jumped up and down, shaking her limbs to pump herself up.

“OH SHIT,” she exclaimed as her phone slipped from her fingers. She caught it with a pincer grasp and made a mental note to thank her trainer for her quick reflexes. She kissed her phone in relief.

Then she saw it.

Her clumsiness had done it for her. She had sent the text.

“Well. That’s that, then.” Daisy tucked her phone back into her pocket knowing there was nothing she could do now.

After dinner, she drew herself a bath and poured a glass of wine. Her phone buzzed. She had forgotten to turn off the ringer.

“AGH. Who’s bothering me?” She reached to turn it off but stopped when she saw the notification. Adam had responded. Throughout the course of the day, she had forgotten about her text to him. Or her subconscious was working overtime to protect her if he didn’t text back.

How could I forget? I embarrassed myself soon after with shitty poetry recitation.

Though alone, she blushed. She had taken the photo because the view was breathtaking and so uniquely Dingle. She hadn’t sent it with the intention of reliving that afternoon. But now she couldn’t think of anything but. And the fact that Adam had brought it up sent a pulse straight to her core.

She closed her eyes and slid her hand downward. What started out that day years ago as an innocent request evolved at high speed.

They sat in the rental car staring out at Dunquin Harbor. He had just returned from Cannes to promote Paterson.

“What was filming that like? Quite different than this, I gather?”

“Yeah. I mean, yeah. Different type of film. Very little dialogue -”

“Wait, so actually very similar!”

Adam chuckled. “Paterson was very much a listener and a man of few words. Verbally, at least. His poetry is where the audience learns who he is.”

“Right! Tell me more about poetry!”

He rolled his lips inward. “Uh, what about it? I didn’t really know much going in, but meeting Ron Padgett, the poet who wrote the original poetry in the film was great. And Jim Jarmusch actually studied it in college. So yeah, definitely new for me.”

“So you spent some time studying some of this Ron guy’s work before you went into filming?”

“Among others. But, yes. It was helpful.”

“Can I hear some of it?”

“Yeah...let’s not,” he shied away.

She pulled out her phone and typed in “Ron Padgett poems” as he tried to change the subject. He called attention back to the landscape in front of them. She clicked through on a link and extended her phone to him.

“Here. Read it to me.”

He pulled a face.

“Please? It’s like a table read. But just for me.” She smiled and his mouth mirrored hers.

He squeezed her forearm affectionately before agreeing. “Only a little.”

“I’ll take whatever you want to give me,” she smirked, feeling quite pleased with herself.

“How to Be Perfect. By Ron Padgett."

“Get some sleep.” His thumb began stroking her forearm.

“Don't give advice.” He grazed his fingertips up her arm to draw circles around her shoulder.

“Take care of your teeth." A small kiss to the corner of her mouth.

“And gums.” Another to the opposite corner.

“Don't be afraid of anything,” his mouth met her temple.

“Beyond your control.”

“Don't be afraid.” A gentle stroke of her hair.

“For instance,”

“That the building,” he traced the line of her clavicle.

“Will collapse.” His fingers teased the sensitive skin of her neck.

“As you sleep.” A kiss to the shell of her ear.

“Or that someone - ” A quick bite of her lobe.

“You love,” he kissed her mouth tenderly.

“Will suddenly drop dead.” A small smile pulled at his mouth.

He took his hand and ran it down her body, stopping where her legs met.

“Eat an orange every morning.” He lifted her dress.

“Be friendly.” He teased her now with his index and middle finger in a V, rubbing soft strokes against the outer edge of her desire.

“It will help make you happy.” He brushed his hand across her clit and her breath caught in her throat.

“Raise your pulse rate.” Another brush.

“To 120 beats per minute.” Then pressure.

“For 20 straight minutes.” He rubbed up and down slowly.

“Four or five times a week - ” She raised her hips to grind against him faster. He laughed and removed his hand.

“Doing anything - ” She whined.

“You enjoy.” He returned his hand.

“Hope,” a finger pushed into her.

“for everything.” A deeper exploration of her.

“Expect nothing.” He withdrew himself.

He dropped the phone and took her face in his hands. He took her mouth like a man drinking his last sip of water before heading out into the scorching desert. His hand slid back down her torso, reading her need for release.

She put her phone down and let her own fingers roam downwards. She sighed as she softly teased herself, trying to mimic the light touches he had used. Ok, so closure may be harder than anticipated , she thought. Resigning to try again tomorrow, she put the phone down to focus on her pleasure. A reply could wait until then.

---

When she gathered the courage to respond to him the next day, she was filled with relief. Their exchange was easy and amicable. The familiarity comforted her like a childhood blanket.

She continued to update him about her trip. He laughed at the right moments and chided her the way any good friend would.

I don’t want to leave 😢, she typed to him.

Where are you headed next?

Home. I fly into Heathrow tomorrow. I’m not ready to be a proper adult again.

Ehh, I don’t think there’s such a thing. We’re all just faking it.

Thanks, friend. Any suggestions for my last night here in good ol Dingle?

A huge bacon cheeseburger.

You suck.

She laughed at his teasing. This was good. A healthy good. She wasn't even upset that she had to pack the mess that had accumulated over her stay.

---

Daisy walked off the plane and blinked in succession. There was Adam, attempting to look inconspicuous in a hoodie and sneakers.

“Oh. Hey, Adam. Are you...stalking me?”

“Kind of. I asked Kika for your flight information.”

Her phone started ringing. “Oh. This is awkward, but I've got a driver waiting to pick me up. It’s really nice to see you? But I have to go.”

He laughed nervously. “I...was kind of hoping you would let me go with you. I've got no other way of getting back.”

“Uh. Sure. Why not?”

---

An hour later, she thanked the driver and headed up to her apartment. Adam trailed behind with her bags. She unlocked the door to her apartment and gestured for him to enter.

“So, what brings you to London?” she began.

“I’m actually in France for the next month filming for a Ridley Scott movie.”

"Heh." An awkward laugh. “I knew that. I don’t know why I asked. I just didn’t wanna sound like a stalker. Then again, you showed up waiting outside my plane so I guess we’re both creepers now.”

He smiled. She melted.

“So...I’m not gonna lie...when I got your text - ”

“You know what?” she interrupted. “Hold that thought. This is kind of rude of me to cut you off. You’re a guest in my home and all. But I really need to do something first. And it’s going to be very awkward but just bear with me through it. Okay? Please?”

“I’m the one who intruded on your day so please, go ahead.”

She took a deep breath and looked him straight in the eyes. Be strong, Dais, she reminded herself.

“When I was in Ireland, I wrote you a letter.”

“Oh.”

“It’s going to be a lot, but I don’t know that I’ll have the balls to read this again. And right now, for some godforsaken reason, I feel like I can do it.”

“You don’t have to if you don't want to.”

“No, I’m going to.”

“Okay. Should I...turn around?” he suggested.

“No no. Just go ahead and sit down.”

Adam looked down, shifting his gaze from one edge of the chair to the other. He was already seated but was too polite to note that. “I will sit.”

Daisy walked over to her handbag and pulled out a paper folded into quarters. She hoped he didn’t notice how worn it looked. Proof that she had fumbled with it more times than necessary. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything. She offered him a silent thanks for that.

“Actually, I think I’ll turn around,” she muttered.

“Whatever makes you comfortable,” Adam said.

Her pulse was racing. “Here goes."

"Dear Adam,

I’d be lying if I said I’m not heartbroken right now. I know the last time we spoke, I told you I was past it, but we both know that was just me trying to put some distance between us. I’m gutted even thinking about the way you asked me to stay. It makes me want to cry all over again (which I’ve been doing a lot of over here).

It’s been REALLY hard to make all my feelings go away, which is the reason I’m writing you this letter. I’m desperate to do something, anything, to get proper closure and move on.

Saying goodbye to you feels like saying goodbye to a part of myself. That’s silly, though. What’s that saying? You can’t lose something that was never yours? Trying to let you go feels like trying to quit an addiction. Which I guess makes Dingle my rehab center (a really lovely one though).

Looking back at everything with 2020 vision (haha, get it? 2020?) - I was fucked from the start. Meeting you was completely life-altering in a way baby Dais could have never expected. You were so REAL in a blur of superficiality. Latching onto you felt like a way of holding onto reality. A tether to the tangible when everything and everyone else wanted to turn me into someone I wasn't ready to be.

And I think you felt that too, in a way. Which is how we fell so easily into friendship. I truly do think that what we had started off innocently, and I’m grateful you were there for it all.

But I’m also SO angry with you. I fell in love with you. And you let me. And for that - I want to scream at everyone and everything. IT'S SHIT. I know it’s not fair to place all the blame on you. But I was in my early 20s and the less experienced of us. I misplaced our mutual understanding onto something more. But as someone with a wife, you should’ve fought harder to push me away. Why didn’t you? Why didn’t you insult me until I hated you? Why did you say nice things to me in private and let me play make-believe?

My feelings for you were so obvious that anyone could have seen them from a mile away. I suspect most did. I was so hopeful that if I was patient and attentive, you might drop everything for me with a grand gesture. But eventually, I learned that that’s not who you are. I know you’ve struggled with many relationships in the past, both romantic and otherwise. Frankly, I think part of you finds romantic feelings uncomfortable. I don’t say it to be cruel, but I simply care for you and think maybe someone needs to say it. I don’t like that I tried to change you - it wasn’t my place. It isn’t anyone’s.

But onto the positive. Cause that’s what all this is supposed to be about. Typical Dais, unable to stay on task.

Loving you, as painful as it was, also taught me so much about myself. Professionally, being around you made me a better performer. I was so set on being a worthy scene partner. Your instincts always pushed me to find authenticity in everything. Your humbled way of approaching the business is still unlike anyone else’s I've met. I’ll always try to maintain these things as I go forward.

As a...romantic partner? You made me feel seen. As I’ve tried to move on with others, I always felt I’ve had to hide parts of me. Yes, our situation...fuck, let’s call it what it was. Our affair - was based on hiding. But only because of its nature. Behind closed doors, you accepted me in my entirety. The goofiness, the grotesque parts, the darker ideations. I never had to hide these parts with you. So in a way, loving you, then losing you, taught me that it shouldn’t have to feel controlled with the right person. I shouldn’t have to be a budget version of myself to be loved.

If these are truly the last words I say to you (even if not in actuality. Cause I’m a melt and may not even send this). Just a few thoughts. I am so proud of you. The awards and Ben Solo campaign are proof that the world finally sees what I’ve always known. You are a once in a lifetime type of human. I know you hate it - the recognition, but you deserve it. And so much more. I truly hope you’re happy. I know I’m trying to be.

All my love, Daisy”

When she mustered up the strength to turn around, she didn’t know if she was seeing straight. Through her watery eyes, it looked like Adam was crying, too.

“Daisy,” was all he said. He got up and walked toward her, taking her into his arms. Silent tears fell between them, darkening their clothing.

“I can’t lie. When you first texted me, I was shocked. I didn’t think I’d see your name in my phone for...Well, I didn’t know that I’d see it again.”

“I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“Can I tell you something? It's actually why I came to see you.” He asked.

“Sure.” Her head was still pressed against his chest.

“I don’t expect you to say anything in response, but...Joanne and I separated. My PR will be announcing it in the next couple of months now that award season is over.”

“Oh,” was all that she could say.

“Yeah.”

“I called off the engagement. To Tom. He understood that my heart was never fully in it.”

“He did?”

“Alright, maybe not right away. But yes. He's all moved out. I think we might be able to be friends again, eventually.”

Adam looked around at the apartment for the first time. “I honestly didn’t notice.”

“Yeah, just little old me again.”

The energy in the apartment shifted and Adam tilted her chin up. He kissed her gently at first as if to test the waters. When she opened her mouth to take more of him in, his attack became more fierce. She matched his kisses, though the tears hadn’t stopped. It was a deadly cocktail of heartache, longing, and love.

She couldn’t get enough of him. The ache for him, both his heart and his growing hardness returned. It was like riding a bike. The solace of revealing every last feeling to him increased her desire. She no longer feared the ache of having him. Only the absence of his weight on her.

He carried her into her bedroom and laid her down on her stomach.

She felt him shimmy her pants down her ass. He laid soft kisses on each cheek before sliding his tongue up between them. Her whole body trembled as he explored every forbidden part of her.

“OH MY GOD,” she cried out.

Her encouragement was all he needed. He adjusted her knees so he could access her more easily. A small rub of her clit. A lapping of her juices. Then back to licking up into her from front to back. She had never had anyone taste her puckering hole before. She thought she might come right there. She reached back to pull at his hair and covered him with her release.

He flipped her onto her back and kissed her. She could taste herself on his lips. She had claimed him. Or maybe it was the other way around. Whatever it was, she needed more of this feeling.

She reached out and grabbed his erection, guiding it into herself. It had been so long since she had felt him. She forgot how deep he could feel. She squeezed him in. Further. Then further. His hair fell on his face and she reached up to push it back.

She lifted herself onto her elbows and kissed him up and down his neck. This made him go crazy and he took her with even more force. She felt split in two. He grabbed her breasts as he held his rapid pace. He returned the favor and nuzzled into the crook of her neck.

“So fucking beautiful,” he whispered into her ear.

“ADAM. I’M COMING,” she announced.

She wrapped her legs around his back and squeezed him in one last time. “DAISY. FUUUCK.” He collapsed onto her, their sweat and tears now indistinguishable.

A moment later, she came back to her senses. “Goddamnit,” Daisy said, staring at the ceiling. “That was not supposed to happen.”

Adam rolled over. “Why does it matter? We’re both single now. We can be together.”

“We can’t,” she insisted. “We can't just start over when we, THIS, started from a place of lies and hiding.”

“Who the hell cares, Dais? Whose business is it but ours?”

“Even you know it's not that easy.”

He growled. “I know that none of that changes how I feel about you. People-pleasing is a game for those that lack understanding of their core selves.”

“Ugh. You sound so pretentious!!”

“Well, I'm sorry if I'm a little confused. We're both single and now we can't be together?? Was I only appealing to you when I was married? Help me understand this shit because I sure as hell can't.”

She got off the bed and began throwing his clothes at him. “The fact you would even suggest that is infuriating. You need to go. I've said my piece. That was all this was about. There's no reset button to any of this.”

Fully dressed, he stopped at her bedroom door. He looked ready to punch the wall. At the last moment, he opened his fist. It was almost as if he realized he had done enough damage for the day. Instead, his heavy hand slammed against the door frame.

He continued on and reached for the front doorknob. He looked back at her and she shuddered. She had seen him angry and frustrated, but had never been the one in his sights.

With a slam of the door, he left.

She began crying. So much for closure, she thought. Daisy searched for her phone and debated calling her mum or sisters. But then, a sudden cold sweat came on. She would have to admit what had happened. She dropped the phone. She wasn't ready for that conversation yet.

Sometime later, a knock at her door startled her from her stupor. She panicked. Security knew better than to let anyone up without her prior approval.

She heard a throat clear and then a thud. Much like a stray limb hitting the hard surface. “OW.”

The voice was unmistakable. She opened the door.

She looked at him and stared blankly. Her eyes seemed to ask, What are you doing here?

He extended a dark chocolate bar toward her.

“Hi. I'm Adam.”

“What?” She stared at him like tiny giraffes were dancing on his shoulders.

He shushed her and started again. “Hi, I'm Adam. It's great to meet you. At the risk of looking like an ass...can I take you out? I know we just met, but I have a good feeling about this.”

Finally understanding him, she smiled.

#daiver #adam x daisy #adam driver x daisy ridley #realpersonfic #real person fic #rpf #im literally trying to chase you away if this isn't your ish #daiver rpf #mine #adamsy #adaisy #fanfic

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0zrockbitway · 4 years

Text

@mistahgrundy

hello!! I volunteered to help out with the voxman secret santa! I wrote a fic based on one of your prompts! I hope you enjoy it and had a good christmas! if you want to read it on AO3 instead you can!

@voxmansecretsanta2019

title: Let’s Go Shopping characters: Lord Boxman, Professor Venomous, unimportant heroes pairing: voxman summary: When a couple of villains go out to a market, its anything but a normal shopping trip.

"Hey, uh, PV?" Boxman clears his throat as he voices his question. His eye were glued onto the other's additional attire. While his iconic scientist like visage hadn't changed, he did add a green cap and some dark sunglasses. Definitely not something he'd seen Venomous wear. Ever.

"What's up with the, you know," a claw points up, "the hat and glasses? N-Not that it's a bad choice or anything! I rather like them! It's just, err, unusual to see you like this."

"Oh, right." His shades were removed for the time being. "I take it you don't go out undercover often?"

"Undercover?" Confusion crosses the smaller's face before seeming to light up.

"Not the undercover you're imagining." Venomous could practically see the scheme forming in his eyes. Perhaps another time he'd indulge him on some undercover plan against the plaza. For now, his main objective was a bit more…tame. "I'm only going out to shop without having to deal with heroes."

"Oh ho! That sounds exciting! Although…why not have, whatever it is you want, delivered instead?"

"Well, unfortunately, not everyone is willing to ship to Boxmore," he sighs out. "And it's actually quite nice to go out every once in a while. Being cooped up inside for so long becomes intoxicating." And there was the underlying thrill of being found out by a hero, but that was only an added bonus.

"I completely understand!"

He didn't. It was something he'd rather let his children do. While they were out doing his errands he could focus on his machines and new plans against the plaza. On a rare occasion he would step out but it would never be to shop- when was the last time he'd actually gone out to do that anyway?

"So…" Boxman's eyes dart back and forth. He takes a step closer to the other man. "Would you mind a bit of company on your little shopping trip? Perhaps I could come with you?"

Venomous stares at the other, thinking about his answer. As tempting as it was to say no, Boxman was putting on his best puppy dog eyes. If it was intentional or not, he couldn't say.

'Oh well, what's the worst that could happen?'

"Alright, you can come along, but-" Venomous raises a hand, stopping the other as he had jumped in joy to the answer. "You need to wear something to hide your identity. Something that won't attract attention."

"Oh, don't you worry, PV! You're looking at the master of disguise himself! Just give me one second and you won't even know it's me!"

~…~

"Ugh! I can't believe this supermarket sells such- such trash here!" Boxman complains, quite loudly, as he throws his hands into the air. If his mix match of clothing (a cowboy hat, an eyepatch to cover his robotic eye, that shirt he'd once worn when he was staying over the bioengineer's home) hadn't captured passerby's attention, then his complaints surely would.

"Little machines- not even robots to clean up after your mess! Why, I could be putting Jethros out here and making more than these supposed 'heroic' machines." He huffs with arms crossed.

"I know, Boxy. Your work is great. Better than anything here." While the praise comes out in a dull tone, he meant every word of it. His gaze, for now, drifts elsewhere. Eyes scan the shelves trying to find that new snack Fink was dead set on having. He wasn't too thrilled to be getting her more junk food, but if it kept her happy then he could spare it as a treat every once and while. He'd need to find something healthy to balance it out though.

Meanwhile, Boxman had marched up to the display with those pesky cleaning machines. He'd given the stand a good kick before finding something else. Something more unbelievable.

"Find anything of interest?" Venomous asks when he hears the other's footsteps. When he turns his head, his eyes widen at the amount of goods Boxman had brought and set into their shopping cart.

"I have! Did you know they sell this kinda junk here?" Boxman pulled out of the many items brought over. In his claws was an alarm to 'scare' villains away. Venomous had to narrow his eyes behind those shades to make sure he even read that correctly.

"Wow…"

"You know, I thought of something after seeing these! Even if they're a bit silly, I say we buy them all! That way no one else can have them! We can even replace them with some Boxmore approved merchandise that would have quite the opposite effect!" Boxman starts to laugh at his genius idea.

"Not a bad idea." Venomous says while picking up some 'anti-villain' spray. Did…people really believe this thing would work agains them? Heroes might as well be as bad as them if they were selling this.

"I'll go and get the rest!"

Boxman hops away from the cart, readying to grab some more. Just as he's piling on more in his hands, carrying more than he should, his hat is knocked off. A "whoops," escapes and he aims to pick it up.

"Hey!" The shout catches him off guard, jumping and causing a few items to fall. "You're Boxman, aren't you?" A shopper- hero was pointing at him.

"Wh-What are you talking about?! I'm not Boxman, I'm, uhh…uhhh…" Think fast, Boxy! "Boxy!"

"Nice try." Boxman huffs at that cover had failed. "Your villainous kind isn't welcomed here!"

"Well, excuse me! There was no sign saying that we weren't welcomed, you know!"

"Actually, there is." The hero only points towards the entrance. Although it was backwards from their point of view, the sign, stuck on the automatic door clearly read NO VILLAINS ALLOWED.

"Oh…" A pause as he stares at that sign before turning back to the hero. "Well, we're staying and shopping here and there's nothing you can do to make us leave!"

"We?" The hero goes on guard, looking for someone else- a robot most likely. But, he's surprised when he finds a well timed appearance by his partner, who was pushing the filled cart and staring at the scene before him. "Is that…Professor Venomous?"

Venomous looks to the hero and the innocently smiling Boxman. It didn't take much to put two and two together. He sighed.

"Oh, what a shame. Seems we've been exposed," Venomous says.

"Don't worry, PV!" Boxman drops all the items he'd been carrying. "I have just the thing for this situation!" A remote button is pulled out of his pockets. When pressed, it only takes seconds for a Boxmore box to come crashing down through the ceiling, landing between them and the hero.

When the box opens it reveals Darrell and Shannon ready to fight. Or were ready to fight until they spot their father.

"Hi, Daddy! Oh, are we allowed to come on the shopping trip now?"

"Ew, why should Dad bring you to go shopping?"

"Because he loves me! That's why!"

Already fed up with their bickering, Boxman fumes. "Darrell! Shannon! You were called here to get rid of a hero!" He points towards him. "Now go so we can finish our shopping!"

They give a salute to their father before turning to the hero, wearing grins as they get ready for this brawl. It doesn't take long for this fight to cause some more destruction within the market.

"There. Now we'll have no more trouble!" Boxman states proudly as he walks to Venomous's side.

"Well, it's a good thing we're almost done here." Venomous takes off his shades. His disguise wasn't needed any longer. "I need to grab one last thing for Fink before we can go." He begins to turn the cart around to avoid being caught in the growing chaos.

"Lead the way, PV!"

With a little grin, he begins to push the cart out this aisle, now scanning which one would hold that videos game soda she wanted. Unfortunately, the treck there isn't easy. The summoning of Boxmore bots had called forth more heroes. And now a few had come to block their path.

It's Venomous's turn to take the lead now. With ease, he pulls out a ray gun from his coat pocket. He aims for the couple of heroes that are lunging forward. The trigger is pulled and they're blasted back.

"Come on before more start trying to crowd us." Venomous turns down the last aisle. Eyes narrow to find that pack of soda. He's hoping they have it and- "There it is!"

"I got it!" Boxman shouts right after, following the other man's extended arm. He makes a quick dash to grab it. An unexpected hero comes from the other end of the aisle, eyes set upon Boxman.

Venomous covers him. Aims and shoots at the opposing hero. Said hero is not only hit by his blast, but also a part- an arm that flew off from Darrell. That would keep him knocked out for sure.

With that out of the way, Boxman dashes back with the soda pack in hand. He makes a jump and lands into the shopping cart, holding up the drinks triumphantly.

"Time to go."

Getting out was far easier with the incapacitated heroes. Not to mention the lack of line to pay…not that they were going to pay. After all, they're villains.

The parking lot was emptier compared to how it was when they first arrived. They could only guess that the commotion had caused most, if not everyone, to run for their lives. At least it made getting to their car a smooth trip.

Once everything had been unloaded into the trunk, the two look back to see the market. More holes were being blasted, smoke was rising, alarms had finally gone off.

"Say, why don't we leave a few more robots behind?" Boxman asks with a chuckle.

"I like the way you think."

With that approval, Boxman pulls out his button once more. It's pressed multiple times, causing more than one box to fall from the sky and land into the battle. A part of the market caves in thanks to this.

Boxman lets out a content sigh, moving to lean against Venomous. He never thought shopping could be this…fun.

"Isn't this just a wonderful sight?"

Venomous smiles down at Boxman, putting a hand on his shoulder. His gaze lingers on the other before having it rest back on the market.

"It sure is, Boxy."

#mistahgrundy #voxmansecretsanta2019 #ok ko lets be heroes #voxman #lord boxman #professor venomous

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zer0pm · 5 years

Text

Imagine Dante flirting with you and V gets jealous

Based on this ask by @krazy06:

I chose Dante ‘cause 👀👌 I’m thinking of creating this piece into a sort of Diverging Point mini works. Those who have played the game will know what I mean. Leave a comment/ask on what you think ;3 Enjoy!~

Dante: “So, when are you gonna admit that you’re falling for me?”

You: “Maybe when you actually lend a hand.”

The ring of your blade hits the air as you fell the last of the demonic wave that was in your path. Your partner in the business who is also your boss, the Legendary Devil Hunter Dante, was lying atop the hood of one of the wrecked cars lying around the city watching you do your work with amused interest. The man always tends to run his mouth even when the situation doesn’t call for it, but you suppose that’s what made the job so fun. Finding the bright side in an otherwise hellish scenario. Literally. He scoffs, a playful smirk on his roguish face.

Dante: “Saving my energy for the big target, you know how it goes. Besides, you had it handled here.”

You: “Uh huh. I’ll remember that when we reach the big douche in his treehouse. Whoops, was that my bullet in his skull?”

Dante: “You wouldn’t.”

You: “Try me.”

The man wears an expression of faux terror and you laugh in turn. You turn your back towards him to scavenge through the kills, hopeful to find something useful for Nero’s friend Nico who served as the devil hunters’ lethal artisan, as she liked to put it. When you weren’t looking, Dante took a moment to appreciate the view himself. The man prided in not letting distractions get in the way of his work, to remain strictly professional despite how he carries himself, but you proved yourself to be an exception for as long as you two have worked together and he relished in the thought and challenge. Between you two, it was playful banter although Dante entertained the idea of taking the flirting a little further.

He got up from where he sat to have another go at you when something fast goes flying straight towards his head. His devil instincts kicking in, the man dodges with ease and pulls out his pistols cocking them with a click. You too went on the alert and point your blade towards the intruder only for you to loosen your guard at the familiar squawking voice.

You: “Griffon?”

Griffon: “The one and only!”

Dante: “Whoa! Almost took my head off there, little birdy.”

Griffon: “My bad, my bad. We thought you were a demon, Dante. Didn’t want our mutual friend here to be hell chow, ya know.”

We? You turn your head to see another familiar face, the mysterious client of Dante’s who you’ve found yourself growing curious about more and more with each passing day. V, a self-proclaimed devil hunter, who also happens to command demons with a snap of his fingers. As he got closer, you found that the man had his nose glued to his characteristic book. Dante furrows his brows in mild annoyance and regarded the him.

Dante: “Mistook this handsome face for one of those ugly things? Maybe you strained your eyes too much from reading, Mr. Poetry.”

V: “Pardon us for the misunderstanding. I reached one of my favorite parts and did not think to validate my flying companion’s claim. You may punish him as you see fit for recompense.”

Griffon: “Wait...you’re blaming me for this, V?”

Dante: “Sounds like it. Now, dance!”

Suddenly you hear gunshots firing and laughter filling the air with the sight of Griffon flying around for his feathery life. You almost had to facepalm at the scene but then you glance over at V, who has not once looked up from his book. The dark-haired gentleman was smirking. It added to his refined, enigmatic aura in a rather mischievous way.

You: “That was all your idea, wasn’t it?”

The tattooed man finally glances up to look at you.

V: “I haven’t the faintest idea what you mean.”

His playful drawl suggests that he has no intent on admitting to anything and you shake your head, smiling at the strange company you keep.

You took a moment to take in V’s appearance, sizing him up and remembering how you met him. Not too long after Dante took on the job, he personally added you to the roster and V himself became interested in you as you were not mentioned by Morrison when the two met. He verbally expressed his desire to observe your skills, curious to what made you different from Dante’s other partners like Trish and Lady. You returned to the agency at Dante’s call and was introduced to V. And by introduced, V sicced a black panther onto you.

Quick on your toes, you subdued the shadowy familiar with blade and guns in hand. It was tough as you were careful not to wreck the already-trashed building but at some point it seemed V was satisfied with how you held yourself against him and offered his hand along with his name. Since then, you found yourself constantly thinking about this mysterious figure. Who he is, his motives, his connection to the current big bad demon and the tree that erected itself in the middle of Red Grave City. It probably didn’t help that you found him extremely attractive as well, but you chose not to divulge that aloud. “You two had a business relationship afterall” is what you told yourself. A month passes by and you spent a lot of personal time with the mysterious V, convincing your nagging thoughts that it was integral to the job.

You: “So, which of Blake’s works are you indulging in this time?”

Yeah, that is totally relevant to the job.

V lifts his head entirely, genuine surprise and, if you see not mistaken, respect alights his usually stoic demeanor.

V: “You are familiar with William Blake?”

You: “Literature was my favorite course. Poetry, my weakness.”

Your ears hear a slight chuckle from his throat that made you feel a little giddy inside, taking it as a sign to press forward. You move to stand right next to him, glancing at the pages he left open.

You: “Auguries of Innocence.”

V: “Impressive. The fact that you recognize the verses with a single glance shows how well-read you are.”

You laugh, flattered by his compliment.

You: “I really just remember these lines.”

Your fingers brush against the words on the page, you were so engrossed in the poem that you missed that small grin that snuck its way onto V’s face, missed how his eyes roamed over your visage with what can only be defined as admiration.

V: “That happens to be where I left off.”

With piqued interest, your eyes snap up to meet his and the words fell from your lips long before you can bit your tongue at the request.

You: “Read it to me?”

It was such an odd thing to say, but traveling the ruins of the city alongside V developed within you an appreciation for the man’s voice and articulation. His voice sounded like silk, and each word from his mouth was like honey. How could you deny the chance to hear him recite the works of a master author?

V himself was taken aback, turning his head to look into your eyes, seeking for any hint that you were merely being jocular and not serious at all. You were not joking and were completely serious. At this, he composed himself quickly, hiding the growing warmth that was beginning to swell within his heart under the guise of him clearing his throat.

He shifts around you slightly so that he held his open book in front of you while also placing himself behind you. A single step back and your back would touch his chest. Your bodies were so close to one another and there was a gradual fluttering in the pit of your stomach that you could not shake off and with each passing second, you found no reason to complain about it and instead welcomed it.

From the corner of your eye, you see V lean over your shoulder until his head dipped to your level. Your ears pick up the soft sound of him taking a breath-

Specks of black suddenly fly across the air, moving past you like a gust of wind and hitting V straight on. The color merged within his skin, darkening the faded tattoos to its full, lustrous color. Griffon came back, which meant one thing. Instinctively, you look up and spotted Dante walking over, his sword in hand and rested upon his shoulder. A pleased, smug grin creeps its way on his face and you knew that meant trouble - or rather “fun”, as he affectionately calls it.

Dante: “Brace yourselves, friends. Here they come.”

Sure enough, you see the all-too-familiar hell gates open from thin air, all around you three, and from them, masses of empusa demons come crawling forth in throes. The numbers that were approaching were staggering. They must have been drawn to Dante’s rambuctious roughplay with V’s familiar and you shot him an annoyed glare. The white-haired man meets your eyes and shrug, deflecting your aggravation with a wink which only frustrated you even further and tightened the grip on your blade.

Dante: “Don’t fall behind, partner. I’m not gonna slow down. Even for you.”

You scoff, swinging your sword in your hand and step into your stance.

You: “That’s my line, old man.”

Dante: “Ha! I’ll show you old.”

You roll your eyes and return your attention back to V. He already moved away from you and you felt yourself grimace at the apparent distance between you two. His book stowed away and his signature cane in his hand at the ready. He wore a serious expression again and if you didn’t know any better, he seemed rather...disappointed? His eyes meet yours, sensing your staring, and you offered him a small smile.

You: “Looks like the reading will have to wait.”

His green eyes glisten subtly, apparently pleased at the suggestion that you wished for his company. The apparent irritation on his face ebbing away slightly to make way for an upturn quirk of his plump lips.

V: “The most sublime act is to set another before you.”

You did not miss the way his eyes were pinned to you as he said this and it sent a pleasantly shivering sensation throughout your body.

V: “Let us be done with this swiftly.”

You nod in agreement and went into position. You, V, and Dante were back-to-back-to-back, ready to take on the ravenous horde.

You: “Watch my back, gentlemen.”

Dante: “Don’t mind if I do-”

V: “Without question-”

If only you would have seen the challenging glares Dante and V had for each other, but no. You were too busy running your sword through your demon prey. Too busy to realize that the entire time you fought, the two devil hunters were side-stepping and tripping each other to get physically closer to you while also slaying through the horde.

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a-vintage-snake · 4 years

Text

That’s It, It’s Split

Pairing(s): Romantic Royality

First chapter - Previous chapter - Next chapter

Warnings: Abusive parenting, threats of violence, Remus centric stuff Characters: Roman Sanders, Patton Sanders, Remus Sanders, Logan Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Character Thomas (For like a two lines)

Summary: Roman meets some unexpected new friends who have new information on his missing brother

Word Count: 9339 (I am so sorry)

Author’s Note: Man I hope you all like long ass chapters CAUSE I GOT CARRIED AWAY HAHAHAHAHA but hey I am happy I got this chapter out, cause I am super stoked for writing the next chapter! Who knows, maybe next chapter some familiar faces will return...

People who were asked to be tagged: @avocados26, @fandoms-will-collide @nottoonormalme, @bihighandgivinghighfives, @atticusfinchthelegend

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The second Roman pushed open the doors of the library Patton let out a delighted gasp beside him.

“Oh my goodness… So many books!” Patton squealed. He let go of Roman’s hand to run into the room. Roman smiled at the adorable way Patton’s eyes grew huge behind his glasses as he took everything in. He couldn’t blame him though. The library was massive, rows of rows of neatly lined up books in oaken bookcases so large you could only reach the top shelves if you climbed one of the high ladders that were scattered among the bookcases. Spiralling staircases led up to different storeys, the dark wood decorated with fading pictures of flowers, plants and trees. The high ceiling was painted to look like a night sky, dark blue paint showing off glittering constellations. Tall windows bathed the library in golden light. Scattered between the bookcases stood tattered sofas and worn desks, inviting you to sit down with a book for hours and hours.

The scent of thousand year old tomes drifted into Roman’s nose, and he smiled. Despite that he rarely had the chance to spent time in the library it was still one of his favourite places in the castle.

“I’ve never seen so many books in one place!” Patton twirled around to take in all the scenery. “It’s amazing!”

“It is…” Roman said softly as they walked into the library. He listened with half an ear to Patton as his fiancé ran to bookcases to inspect the tomes, chattering excitedly when he found one that he particularly liked. Roman inspected the library with a scrutinizing gaze. What had it been about this place that his brother spent so much time here? Remus had never been the scholarly type…

“That’s it. I give up.”

Roman jerked up at a loud cluttering sound. Remus, who had been sitting at his desk, had made a sweeping arm movement and thrown all the contents of his desk on the floor. His inkwell shattered and tainted the carpet with a deep black stain.

“Remus what the heck!” Roman rose from his own desk to inspect the damage. “Why did you do that? Mom and dad will be mad if they see-”

His sentence trailed off when Roman looked at Remus, who had buried his face into his crossed arms, his shoulders taut.

“…Remus?” Roman frowned. “Are you okay?”

“They’re right…” Remus muttered with a sniff, much to Roman’s horror. “They’re all right… I guess I am just dumb…”

“What! No! Of course you’re not!” Roman said.

“Yes I am!” Remus lifted his head up, his eyes shiny. “If I weren’t I would actually GET this stupid stuff!” Angrily he gestured at the papers on the floor before he hid his face away in his arms again. Roman stared flabbergasted. He had never seen his twin so… so… sad before. Usually Remus was the one who pulled Roman away from his homework, grin on his face and a thousand plans for weird pranks on his mind. The castle staff had quickly learned that the 10-year-old princes were double trouble. Luckily for the princes, most of them were still swayed by their sweet faces and innocent looking eyes. Roman was quite proud of their innocent expressions- Remus and him had practised them to perfection on Roman’s insistence.

“Come on, Rem…” Roman punched his twin’s arm. “You know that’s not true! Could a dumb person ever come up with pranks as good as yours?”

No response.

“I mean,” Roman tried again. “Nailing nanny’s slippers to the floor was brilliant! Did you see the look on his face when he put them on, tried to walk away but couldn’t and fell over? That was so funny!”

A soft snort was heard. Roman grinned. Success!

“Or that time you read all about swamp monsters, so we covered ourselves in algae from the moat and scared the kitchen girls?” Roman continued.

“That was a good one…” Remus lifted his head a little, a small smile on his face.

“Yeah!” Roman had to stifle a snort in his hand. “Or how about when you had the idea to sew all the wigs of the lackeys together?”

Remus sat up, his lips pulled into a wide grin that showed off the gap between his front teeth.

“They tried to find their wigs, but there was only… THE ULTRA WIG!!” He yelled, raising his fists towards the sky. Both boys collapsed into giggles.

“Well… I guess I am pretty great.” Remus said proudly after they managed to get their laughter under control. However his look darkened when he looked down on the papers on the floor. “But then why can’t I just understand these stupid sums?”

Roman picked up one of the papers that were strewn all over the floor. Neatly written numbers their teacher had written out for them were crammed between Remus’ hastened scrawl where he tried to make sense of what was written down, and drawings of Remus stabbing the numbers with what looked like a large sharp knife. Clearly he had been frustrated for a while now.

Roman bit down on his bottom lip; he understood why. Divisions were hard. He had only gotten them after his teacher taught the class a trick to make it easier. But Remus had been pulled out of the class a while ago and given a private tutor. Apparently his brother had been ‘too disruptive of a presence for the other children’, whatever the heck that meant.

But… He could totally teach him that trick too!

“Scooch over.” Roman said as he sat down next to Remus on his chair and put the paper down in front of them. No time to get his own chair, he had teaching to do! Remus looked confused, but made room anyway. “Okay bro, this is what you do...”

For a while Roman tried his best to explain the trick. Remus didn’t understand it as quickly as Roman had. Luckily he knew his brother very well, so he added a little part to make it more interesting.

“So if you cut the witch up into ninety-eight pieces with your axe, and separate all those bits into neat piles of two, how many piles do you have?” Roman asked. Remus scrunched up his nose in deep thought. Roman practically saw him churning the math over with the trick he was taught.

“…Forty-nine?” Remus answered hesitantly.

“Yes!” Roman whooped. “Yes Rem that’s exactly right!”

Remus’ eyes widened and his mouth fell open, before he laughed and jumped up from his chair with a victorious yell.

“YES!! I did it!! Take that, math!” Remus screeched. “You ain’t got shit on me!!”

“Remus!” Roman gasped. “That’s a bad word!”

“I know,” Remus’ eyes glinted. “Shall I say it again…?”

“Noooooooo…” Roman snickered.

“Too bad! Shit!” Remus cackled when Roman nearly fell off the chair laughing. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT, SHIT, SHIIIIII-!!”

“What the devil is going on here?!”

Both boys immediately fell silent at the shocked outcry. Without them noticing their mother had entered their shared room. Quickly Roman and Remus scrambled to stand and guiltily try to hide the mess around Remus’ desk. Their mother had already seen however.

“What on earth is this?” She hissed while making her way over to her sons. She took in the black stain on the carpet, and then turned her furious glare to Remus, who shrunk into himself. “What did you do, you horrendous boy? Don’t you make enough of a mess of our lives as it is?”

“Well, I-” Remus tried to say.

“Don’t interrupt me! Ungrateful little freak!” She grabbed her son’s arm in a vice grip and shook him hard. “Maybe we should let you live in the stables, next to all the other pigs who can’t clean up their mess!”

“Mom wait! It was me!” Roman rushed out. Their mother immediately turned her attention on him. “I knocked the inkwell off the desk, like a doofus! It’s not Remus’ fault!”

Their mother’s eyes narrowed, while Remus’ eyes went almost comically wide. Roman felt his heart beat in his throat. Slowly queen Nadia released her Remus’ arm.

“Why were you at his desk?” His mother asked Roman.

“I was helping him… With his math homework.” Roman muttered.

“Y-Yeah!” Remus said, rubbing his painful arm. “I understand the math now, mom! I can do it!”

Queen Nadia looked between her sons, before letting out an impatient sigh.

“Remus, you won’t learn anything if you let Roman do your homework for you.”

Roman sputtered. “What? I wasn’t doing that!”

“He wasn’t!” Remus said. “He just showed me a neat trick, I can do the math now!”

“Oh really?” Queen Nadia raised a sceptical eyebrow. “Then tell me, what’s seventy-eight divided by three?”

“It’s… It’s…” Remus stammered. He pulled at his hair in frustration. “I know it, I do, I just need-”

“Roman, what’s seventy-eight divided by three?” Their mother turned to him.

“Twenty-six.” Roman answered automatically.

“I knew that too! I did!” Remus yelled.

“Apparently not, seeing as you took so long to answer me.” Their mother shook her head in disappointment. “Go back to your homework, the both of you. Individually and quietly.”

Her tone left nothing up to the debate. Both the princes reluctantly sat down at their respective desks and continued their sums in silence.

The next morning Roman had to helplessly watch as servants moved Remus’ bed and belongings from their shared room.

“But I don’t want a room of my own!” Remus wailed, struggling in the grip of his new governess.

“Me neither!” Roman screamed and he turned to his parents who overlooked the move. “Please let him stay! I-I’ll never do his homework again, I promise!”

“Take Remus away, he’s late for his lesson.” King Augusto waved the governess away, and the woman dragged his screaming brother away from the room. Before Roman could move to run after them his father placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“Roman, please,” His father’s voice was soft. “I know this may seem harsh, but it’s the best for the both of you.”

“But… But…” He couldn’t take it anymore; the tears started to flow freely down his cheeks.

“Oh honey…” His mother’s arms embraced him and picked him up. Roman clung to her and cried into her hair while his parents rubbed his back soothingly.

“You must understand Roman,” His father said. “You are the crown prince! You have responsibilities, and your brother keeps distracting you from them.”

“I just helped him with sums…” Roman hiccupped.

“It’s sweet that you want to help him,” His mother said. “But he can’t be dependant on you forever. You two have your own lives, and I promise you’re doing him a favour by letting him discover his own path.”

“You can still spend time with him whenever you don’t have lessons or homework.” His father added.

Roman sniffled. “Promise…?” He whispered.

“Promise, sweetie.” Queen Nadia pressed a kiss to his temple. “Would we lie to you?”

Lost in his memories Roman trailed after Patton, who rushed ahead of him completely enamoured. Patton was so entranced by the library that he didn’t hear the approaching footsteps from around a bookcase until he crashed into the person.

Roman was startled from his thoughts when he heard a loud clatter and saw his fiancé nose-dive down, pulling the man he crashed into and the large stack of books he was carrying along with him. They unceremoniously fell in a heap on the floor, Patton on top of the other, knocking all the air out of the man’s lungs.

“Oh-Oh my goodness I am so sorry!!” Patton scrambled up and started gathering the books that had scattered over the floor while simultaneously trying to help the other man up.

“My love, have you hurt yourself?” Roman hurried to the pair.

“Holy shit Lo, are you okay?” A fourth voice said, the owner of said voice appearing from around the bookcase.

“I’m quite alright, Virgil,” The man sat up on his knees and adjusted his rectangular glasses that had been knocked off his nose. “Let me clear up these books. They were in a specific order.”

Curtly the man pulled the books from Patton’s hands and started to stack them in their original order. Patton held still, his hands held up in that wary position of someone torn between wanting to help and not wanting to upset the other further.

“Uuuh, Logan?” The fourth person spoke up. Roman recognized the short man dressed in purple and black robes as the court sorcerer. “Maybe that’s a bit rude…? Just saying.”

The man- Logan apparently- glanced up from his task a little miffed to look at Roman and Patton, showing off bright blue eyes behind the square glasses. They stood in stark contrast with his dark skin and wavy black hair.

“Oh, I see,” Logan said upon seeing who he was snubbing help from. “Pardon me- Let me clear up these books, your Highnesses.”

“That’s not-! Never mind…” Virgil sighed, before turning to Roman and Patton. “Sorry about that.”

“Oh, that’s alright!” Patton beamed. “I would probably make it even messier anyway! We’ll get out of your hair!”

Patton turned to Roman as Logan gave a confused little pat to his hair. “On with exploring?” Patton chirped.

Roman felt his heart sink as he and Patton walked further. Why had he thought that a clue would magically present itself by coming here? How could he know what attracted Remus to this place?

“Excuse me, prince Roman?”

Stopping in his tracks, Roman turned back to the questioning voice to find that the dark-haired librarian had called out to him of all people. “Yes?”

“If I may be so bold to ask,” Logan said as he stood up from the floor, balancing the newly stacked books in his arms. “I was wondering when your brother will return home?”

Roman’s eyes widened. He barely bit back a gasp of surprise. Was this his clue? “Why do you ask?” He said.

“Well, I brought in some new books that I thought would be interesting for him, but he still hasn’t seen them,” Logan answered. “His travels normally don’t last this long, do they?”

“…No. No they don’t.” Roman walked back to the two men, curiosity awakening inside his chest. He took in the tall librarian from head till toe. Logan didn’t seem to notice, he was busy piling the books on a desk.

“So when will he return?” Logan asked. Roman felt the hollow feeling in his chest deepen at the question.

“I’m afraid those books will remain unread for now, my literary fellow,” He managed. “Remus, he…” Roman swallowed thickly. “He’s missing.”

“Missing?” Logan frowned, looking up from his task. “What happened?”

Before he could answer, Roman felt a soft hand slip into his own. Patton walked up next to him, and gently squeezed his hand with a soft smile.

“Remus has gone to the Desolate Mountains.” Patton quietly continued for Roman, which made him want to kiss Patton in sheer gratitude. “He what?” Virgil’s face drained of the little colour he had, making the dark marks around his eyes stand out even more. “You mean he actually went?”

Roman’s attention immediately snapped to the court sorcerer. “What do you mean, ‘he actually went’?” he asked sharply. Virgil flinched at the sudden cutting tone thrown at him.

“Last time I saw him,” Virgil faltered. “He was babbling nonsense about wanting to kill the warlock-”

“Last time you saw- You KNEW about this??” Roman ripped his hand from Patton’s grasp. “You knew and didn’t think of telling anyone?!” Fury swept up inside Roman. Someone else had known all along. If Roman had someone who would have backed up his story, believed him, they could have gone after his brother months ago. They could have… Could have…

“I didn’t think he would actually-!” Virgil tried.

“YOU ARE NOT HERE TO THINK!!” Roman roared at him. He didn’t care that Virgil backed away from him, holding up his hands in a failing soothing gesture. He didn’t care that Patton grasped his arms to keep him from advancing further on the man, or that Logan tried to step between the two of them. He couldn’t focus on anything else but the dull thrum in his ears, and the cowering sorcerer before him. “You are here to SERVE AND PROTECT OUR FAMILY-” “Roman, honeybee, please stop-!”

“YOU FAILED AT THE ONE JOB YOU WERE HIRED FOR!!”

“Your Highness, calm down please!” Logan stepped between him and Virgil. “I’m sure we can talk this over-”

With a mighty push, Roman shoved Logan aside. The librarian tumbled to the ground, but Roman didn’t care. He tore himself free from Patton’s grasp and stormed to the shorter man, fuming. Virgil’s eyes started to glow purple and he summoned shadows to his hands, the dark energy crackling in the air. Roman grabbed a fistful of Virgil’s robes, raised his fist and-

“THAT IS ENOUGH!!”

Everyone’s head snapped towards Logan, who had scrambled up from the ground. He was breathing heavily, his glasses standing askew on his nose.

“We are in a library, for goodness’ sake!” Logan snarled. “Have a little respect!”

Roman stared at the librarian, rooted to his spot. He then looked down at the man he held up by his collar. Virgil’s eyes were still glowing a vibrant purple, but that did nothing to hide the tinge of fear in them. Roman released Virgil’s cloak and backed away like had burned himself.

“I- I am so sorry, I didn’t-” He stammered. “I don’t- I don’t know what came over me-” Horrified Roman looked at his own hands. What on earth was happening to him?

Looking at the three men, all in various states of shaken up, Logan sighed, straightened his cravat and adjusted his glasses.

“I think,” He said calmly. “We could all use a cup of tea.”

Red-hot shame burned up Roman’s cheeks as the little group followed Logan through the library. He didn’t dare to take his eyes away from the ground, even when they climbed up several stairs to the higher levels of the library, and Patton was hugging his arm while trying to catch his eyes. Roman couldn’t answer his fiancé’s concerned gaze though. Not when he acted so shamefully in front of him. What kind of prince was he?

“Here we are,” Logan said in front of them, interrupting Roman’s spiral of guilt. The librarian opened a small door hidden between two bookcases. “Do come in, everyone.”

Stepping through the door, Roman finally lifted his head to look around. The room he just entered was an attic, large windows overhead showing off the summer sky. Every bit of a wall was hidden behind star charts and papers full of constellation drawings and notes written in a neat handwriting. Several stands were scattered among the room, displaying several models of the solar system. A spiralling iron staircase led up to a loft where a large telescope proudly stood underneath an open skylight.

“What is this place?” Patton asked, his voice full of wonder.

“My work space,” Logan answered, as he cleared up a big table in the middle of the room, overflowing with notebooks and papers. “I’m a scholar; I study the stars and the possible life beyond them.”

“I thought you were a librarian?”

“I am too. In exchange for the usage of the equipment here, I help maintain the library,” Logan moved armfuls of papers away. “It is quite a good arrangement. I wouldn’t be able to afford half the material needed for proper studying otherwise.”

“Oh here, let me help you with that!” Patton released Roman’s arm to help with clearing the table. This left Roman standing with Virgil. Both men tensed, and Virgil awkwardly tried to avoid the other’s eyes. Before Roman could think of anything to break the tension, Virgil muttered ‘we came here for tea right’ before quickly walking over to the other side of the room where a table with a kettle stood next to small sink. Roman was left standing by the door, feeling like an idiot and unsure of what to do. He decided to keep himself busy by looking at the star charts.

Virgil filled the kettle up, and lifted up a tiny jar without a lid from below the desk. A small purple flame was nestled at the bottom of the jar; it’s flames crackled softly in the tense air.

Patton stopped next to Virgil, arms full of papers. “What is that?” He asked curiously as he stared at the purple flame.

“Oh this?” Virgil said as he placed the kettle on the little fire. “An invention of my own. The flames are hot, but do not burn anything that it comes in touch with. Thought it might be useful for Logan cause-” Virgil looked up into Patton’s curious eyes, and coughed a little embarrassed. “You know… Books are flammable…” He finished lamely.

“That is incredible.” Patton said breathlessly. “You must be so talented!”

Virgil’s cheeks flared up. “It’s okay I guess…” He mumbled. “I mean, I only managed one so far since it’s so difficult to make, and haven’t been able to replicate it ever since, so I figured it was just a lucky shot-”

“Now don’t you dare talk bad about yourself, young man!” Patton said sternly.

“…I think we’re the same age-?”

“You’ve already made such an amazing thing! You should be-” Patton’s gaze flicked to something moving on Virgil’s shoulder. “ProaaAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!”

Roman, who had been inspecting a star model, shocked up at his fiancé high pitched screaming to see Patton dropping all the papers and nearly hop skipping to get away as fast as possible from a startled Virgil. “What happened??” He said as he quickly made his way over to Patton.

“SPIDER!” Patton screeched as he jumped into Roman’s arms. “SPIDER!!” He screamed again while pointing at Virgil. Following his love’s shaking finger, Roman saw what had spooked Patton so bad. Crawling on Virgil’s shoulder was quite possibly the largest tarantula Roman had ever seen. The arachnid was about as big as Roman’s hand, and had a dark purple colouring. Right now it appeared to have frozen in alarm at the sudden screaming.

Virgil followed Patton’s pointing as well, and his eyes widened in realization. “Oh, no no no! It’s alright!” Virgil gently picked up the spider from his shoulder, and now Roman felt a little queasy too when Virgil held the beast up in both hands. “This is just Romeo! He’s a good spider! He won’t do anything! He’s not even an ordinary spider, he’s-” Virgil stopped. Romeo the spider had taken one glance at Roman, and immediately took up a defensive position, letting out tiny hissy sounds and squatted on his long legs. Virgil immediately cupped him close to his chest. “No! Bad Romeo! No face jumping today!”

“He jumps on FACES?!” Patton shrieked.

“Only when I’m threatened,” Virgil answered absent-mindedly, which did exactly nothing to make Patton feel better. Virgil let a short stream of curses, before he quickly held open his cloak. “Come on Romeo, better hide. Yes, I know it’s not fun!” Virgil said when the arachnid again made short hissy sounds. “But it can’t be helped right now. Come on…”

Roman could swear that he heard the spider make soft grumbling noises, but the tarantula reluctantly crawled underneath the soft fabric.

“There, he’s gone,” Virgil said as he closed his cloak. “You can look again.”

Patton carefully peeked from Roman’s neck where he had hidden his face. Shakily he sagged in relief when he couldn’t spot the creepy crawly death dealer anywhere.

“Oh dear John that was scary…” Patton said in a trembling voice. “Uuhh, sorry for screaming there kiddo, I’m just- Terribly afraid of spiders!”

“Oh really? I wouldn’t have guessed.” Virgil said.

A short cough caught everyone’s attention. Logan, who had witnessed the whole ordeal silently, looked like he felt a migraine coming on.

“Can we please have that tea now?” He said while rubbing his temples with his fingers.

A short while after the four men sat down at the cleared table, steaming cups of tea in front of them. Patton was still a bit rattled, Virgil steadily avoided looking at Roman and Roman himself sat stiffly, holding the cup between his hands like it was his last line of sanity holding him together.

“Well then,” Logan said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “I think we can all agree that we figuratively started off on the wrong foot.”

“Understatement of the year.” Virgil muttered under his breath, making Roman wince. Logan gave him a warning glare.

“If we got off on the wrong foot,” Patton said with small smile. “Maybe we should take some steps to remedy that?”

Logan stared ahead, his face blank, yet his eyes betrayed the pain he was in. He inhaled deeply through his nose.

“I’m just going to,” Logan muttered. “Figuratively let that pass by. Anyway!” He said in a normal volume. “What brings you to my library? Also how come that our prince going missing isn’t widespread news?”

“We only realized today that he was truly missing,” Roman answered. He hesitated a second before he continued. “…A friend told me that Remus came to the library often, so I hoped to… I don’t know, find a clue here I guess?” Roman let his head hang in shame. Now Patton knew he had brought him here under false circumstances. He truly was the worst fiancé.

“Oh honeycakes!” Patton said. “Why didn’t you say so? We could have been detectives together!”

Bewildered Roman turned to Patton. “You’re not… Mad?” He asked incredulously.

“Why would I be mad about that, silly?” Patton giggled, and gently booped Roman’s nose. Amazed Roman entwined their hands together. Honestly, what did he do to deserve such kindness?

“I’m afraid I can’t help you, your Highness,” Logan said, interrupting the moment. “If his Grace left some kind of hint of his whereabouts behind, I have yet to find it. But it is true that he visited the library quite frequently.”

“Did he come here for a specific reason? Or for some special kind of books?”

“No. Despite his broad interests, the books only seemed to interest him occasionally,” Logan said thoughtfully. “I mean, take his last visit for example-”

In Logan’s eyes there would never be anything more beautiful than a perfectly organized bookcase. With a satisfied smile he slid the last book into his rightful place, and he took a step back to inspect his hard work. Very well done, if he said so himself.

Content Logan turned away from the shelf to continue on with the next bookcase, but when he turned he was greeted by an upside down grin.

“Hey nerd!” The owner of said grin cheerfully said.

“Good afternoon, your Grace.” Logan answered, observing the prince’s upside down state. Remus had his knees hooked into one of the bookcase’s ladders. “How long have you been hanging like that?”

“A while! Boy do you absorb yourself in a task! You didn’t even notice when I climbed up here!” Remus shrugged playfully, his face red and sweating. “Hey, do you think my head will explode if I hang like this for too long? Decorate these books with brain goo?” Remus giggled as he threw his arms wide. “Splat! All new paint for free!”

“That would be an unlikely occurrence. However,” Logan said as Remus let his arms drop in disappointment. “Being flipped over like that makes it harder for you to breath, heart problems may arise due to the increased blood flow, and your vision may experience permanent damage because of the added pressure on your eyes.”

“Neat!” Remus whispered, his eyes sparkling. “How long ya gotta dangle like this for that to work? Nevermind, we’ll just test it now!”

“That seems hardly healthy for you,” Logan answered.

“Oh come on, living science experiment in the making here! Isn’t that like your stuff? What kind of scholar are you?”

“The astronomy kind, your Grace, not the biology kind. Besides, today I’m here for my librarian duties.”

“Ugh, bore-snore!” Remus groaned. “Unethical science experiments are WAY better! What’s so fun about books anyway?”

“Well,” Logan said, knowing exactly how to distract the prince. “We do have a fascinating new book in about octopi.”

“REALLY!?” Remus gasped, wiggling his knees free excitedly. “Holy fuck, I gotta see that! Lemme just-!”

“Your Grace, WAIT-!” Logan started, but it was too late as Remus as elegantly as a rock thrown through a window fell on the ground with a thud. He sprung back up however before Logan could even ask if he was hurt.

“I’m okay! Whooo, headrush!” Remus snickered as he dizzily grabbed onto Logan’s shoulders. Logan diligently held the swaying prince up on his feet. “Alright nerd, show me the nerd book!”

Ten minutes later Logan was back on his task of organizing the bookcases, but occasionally threw glances at prince Remus who had sat himself down at one of the desks. He had yanked the book from Logan’s hands with an excited wiggle and was currently drawing furiously in a sketchbook, copying the pictures and diagrams of the squid with a nearly manic glee. His brow was furrowed in concentration, the tip of his tongue peeking out of his mouth.

Momentarily distracted by the sight Logan accidentally knocked over a pile of books that were still waiting to be organized off the desk. “Oh bother.” Muttered Logan, as he quickly gathered them off of the ground.

“You know,” the prince said, looking up from his sketching. “I don’t think I ever heard you curse! It’s always ‘oh dear’ or ‘good heavens’ with you! What gives, Geek Squad?”

“I don’t make a habit out of cursing.” Logan answered distractedly.

“But aren’t you tired of being nice?” Remus asked. “Don’t you just wanna go ape shit sometimes?”

“I hardly see how monkey feces applies to this situation.”

Logan restacked the picked up books and looked up to ask Remus if the book was to his liking, only to find the prince staring at him intently.

“As your prince,” Remus said, more serious in tone than Logan had ever heard him speak. “I order you to say a swearword, right here, right now.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, and adjusted his glasses with a sigh.

“…Well that’s just fucking inconvenient.” He said.

Remus’ eyes widened and his mouth fell open, before he burst out into wild, delighted cackling. Nearly choking on his own laughter Remus fell from his chair, screeching gleefully while rolling over the floor. In a minute Logan would remind Remus that he was in a library, and gently ask him to be quiet. But for now Logan just allowed himself a small, fond smile as he watched the laughing prince.

It was hard not to smile along with the story. Patton let out a small chuckle next to him, and even Virgil huffed out a short laugh. Roman regarded the stoic librarian with different eyes. So that’s why Remus came here so often…

“You were never… Bothered by his unusual questions or requests?” Roman asked hesitantly. He knew Remus had a tendency to frighten away people with his interest in the macabre. Logan however only shrugged.

“Hardly. He may be unconventional, but unconventional people have made some of the most amazing discoveries in our world’s history. So who am I to judge?”

Roman felt the vague urge to offer this man a hug. “I’m glad my brother found a friend in you.” He warmly said instead. Logan sputtered, his already dark cheeks turning several shades warmer.

“I am unsure if he saw me as a friend…” Logan said uncertainly. “I’m told that I’m… Not very good with friendship.”

“Oh hey, I’m sure that’s not true!” Patton said.

“Virgil only realized we were friends after I explicitly stated it at one of his ritually based conventions of supernatural conjuring.” Logan deadpanned.

“It was a coven gathering!” Virgil nearly yelled. “We were trying to exchange new magic! You were only supposed to bring a book! Seriously Lo, learn how to read a room!”

“How could I possibly read the room?” Logan questioned. “There was no text on the walls.”

“That is not-!” Virgil stopped himself and inhaled deeply. “Oh forget it…” He muttered.

“Well, uhm,” Roman said, trying his hardest not to laugh. “I believe he saw you as a friend, Logan!”

“…I hope so,” Logan said. “Truth be told, I have… quite missed him these past months.”

“Really?” Virgil asked incredulously before he could stop himself. Logan let out a sigh.

“Virgil, as we discussed many times, just because you don’t like the man doesn’t mean I have to dislike him as well.”

“You dislike my brother?” Roman asked the purple clad man. Virgil had the decency to look a little sheepish at the question.

“Yeah, well, you wouldn’t exactly be thrilled either by someone who continuously screws up your magic experiments just because, and I quote, ‘why the fuck not?’ ” Virgil grumbled, avoiding eye contact.

“That-!” Roman started, pointing a finger at Virgil, who tensed, before he dropped his hand with a sigh. “That does sound like Remus, I’m so sorry.” Virgil looked up at him with a surprised look, but he shrugged.

“Eh, it’s not your fault. But thanks.” Virgil said with a brief flash of a crooked half smile. Guiltily Virgil glanced down again, anxiously twiddling his thumbs. “Look-” He started. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about your brother… I honestly didn’t think that he would, you know…”

“No, it is I who should apologize to you,” Roman said sombrely. “I shouldn’t have shouted at you, or blamed you. That was very un-princely of me. The truth is… None of us thought Remus would be that reckless. I am more at fault for this mess than you, since I’m his brother.”

“Hey, I would freak out too out if my family would disappear.”

“It was still bad of me…” “Yeah, it was kind of a dick move,” Virgil agreed. “But… It’s cool. I understand.”

Both men shared a look across the table, the tension between them slowly ebbing away. Roman nearly sagged in relief when the sorcerer seemed to finally relax since they sat down.

“Come on, sweetie…” Patton patted Roman’s arm. “Don’t be so hard on yourself! You couldn’t have known either!”

“I should have!” Roman pulled his fingers through his hair. “But I didn’t, and now my brother has gone into the lion’s den! Who knows what the warlock might do to him?!”

“You may not need to worry too much about that,” Logan said. “Technically we don’t even know if the warlock actually exists.”

“What do you mean?” Roman confusedly asked.

“I mean that we have no factual evidence of this figure’s reality. He might just be an overblown exaggeration of local folktales and rumours.”

“Oh, the warlock is real alright…” Virgil said darkly.

“How do you know that?” Logan asked. “Have you met him recently?”

Virgil shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his fingers fidgeting nervously with his cloak’s sleeve. “Well, no, obviously,” He muttered, avoiding everyone’s eyes. “…But I have a feeling-”

“Saying fiction is fact based on feelings is bad science, Virgil,” Logan adjusted his glasses. “The real fact is that no one has ever seen this supposed warlock. We have documents stating a witch once lived in the mountains, but she appeared to have left a long time ago. If the warlock is actually real and not a blatant falsehood, shouldn’t we have gotten some actual proof of his existence by now?”

“Then how do you explain all the disappearances?” Patton asked with a thoughtful frown.

“There are plenty ways of disappearing in the mountains that are not supernatural in any way. For example, you have rockslides, avalanches, abrupt weather changes to name a few,” Logan rambled from the top of his head. “There’s the wildlife of course, like mountain lions and bears. Not to mention the many fantastical creatures that are potentially dangerous! Not many have encountered trolls and lived to tell the tale. Dare I say, there’s a very high risk of endangering one’s life-”

“Lo,” Virgil interrupted urgently, holding a finger against his lips. “Not the time.” He very pointedly looked across the table, where Roman had balled his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white. He stared down at the table with a forlorn expression, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. Patton had his arms thrown around him, rubbing his cheek against Roman’s shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting manner.

“Uuh, I mean,” Logan scrambled awkwardly, trying to salvage the situation. “These are all just statistics. Your brother could very well be alive!”

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “Maybe he… He just injured himself and he can’t properly travel back just yet.”

“Or!” Patton added. “He met someone in distress in the mountains and he is on a quest to rescue them!”

“Perhaps he made an amazing new discovery,” Logan smiled. “And he simply must document everything before returning.”

Roman lifted his head to give the people around the table a watery smile. “Thank you…” He quietly said.

Logan looked around to see everyone’s empty cup, and rose from his chair. “I’ll make us some more tea,” He said, before pausing to look hesitantly at Roman. “Would you… perhaps be interested in seeing the books I ordered for your brother?”

Roman let out a shuddery sigh, before he nodded. “Yeah… Yeah, I would like that.”

Time seemed to fly by as fast as the wind.

When Logan returned with more tea and two books under his arm, Roman flipped through the pages as if he could find his brother in the pressed paper. One book was a bundle of quite possibly the most gruesome folktales Roman had ever read, while the other showed the inner works of the body in more detail than Roman wanted to know. Despite the morbid subjects however, Roman only felt an aching kind of fondness while reading them. Both books carried so much of Remus in them, even when his brother had never read any of the pages, that it made the hollow feeling inside Roman’s chest feel a little less overbearing.

At that point Logan and Virgil started taking turns telling stories and anecdotes about Remus. Little slices of life Roman had spent so long ignoring, but now he eagerly listened to. Every new tale only made the four men laugh harder than the one’s before, and soon the strange little group was chatting, joking and teasing like they had been friends for years.

“You’re kidding!” Roman laughed. “He actually chugged a potion you had specifically said was for cleaning the kitchen floors??”

“Man, I wish I was kidding,” Virgil groaned. “After he was done vomiting in my cauldron, you know what he said?”

“What?”

“That it tasted disgusting and I needed to add more mint.”

Wheezing Roman doubled over, clutching his stomach that was hurting from laughing so much.

“Oh gosh Roman!” Patton suddenly gasped. “It’s almost sundown! We have to hurry or we’ll be late for dinner!”

Surprised Roman looked out of the window to find Patton was right; the sky had turned several soft shades of orange and pink.

“Have we truly spent the entire afternoon here?” Roman marvelled as he got up. “So sorry for keeping you so long!”

“No need to worry,” Logan said. “This day was quite enjoyable, despite it’s… rocky start.”

“Yeah,” Virgil smirked. “No better way to start a day than almost getting in a fight with the ruling class.” “Hey nooo! I apologized-!” Roman whined. Virgil waved him off.

“Chill princey, you’re good. Although…” Virgil’s smirk grew more mischievous. “If you can convince your parents to get me more budget for a new set of beakers and potion supplies, I might not retaliate with spiders in your bed.”

Roman snorted. “I’ll see what I can do,” He said good-naturedly, before sliding the books still on the table towards Logan. “Thank you for showing me these!”

“Actually,” Logan said, as he pushed the books back. “Keep them for now. You might want them more than I do.”

Gently Roman picked up the books. “…Thank you,” He said softly, as he held them close to his chest. “That’s so kind.” He cursed that the day had ended so quickly. He had so much more questions to ask, more stories to listen to…

“Hey, I was wondering!” Patton spoke up beside him. “Do you think we could meet up again tomorrow?” Roman gave Patton a baffled stare. His fiancé only returned it with a smile and a quick wink, and Roman felt his heart swell up with love for this man.

“Tomorrow?” Logan said. “I’m afraid not, I have work to do in the library.”

“Yeah sorry, I got responsibility things too.” Virgil added.

“Oh… That’s alright!” Roman said, trying to not let the disappointment shine through.

“However,” Virgil said. “I can do Friday afternoon? How about you, Lo?”

“I do believe Friday would be adequate.” Logan responded. Roman looked between the two men, before a dazzling grin broke out on his face.

“Friday it is then!” He said cheerfully, before he followed Patton to the door. “We’ll see you then!”

Logan nodded a goodbye and Virgil gave a lazy salute while the two princes quickly made their way out of Logan’s workspace.

“They seem nice!” Patton said as they made their way to the dining room.

“They do!” Roman agreed. His thumb ran over the worn leather covers of the books grasped close to his chest. “Even after I acted so rude they remained so friendly…”

“Oh, don’t continue to beat yourself up over that,” Patton said sweetly. “Sure, you made quite a blunder, but nobody’s perfect! Virgil accepted your apology. Best way to continue on now is not to repeat the same mistake!”

Patton happily hummed as he threw one arm around Roman’s waist. Roman was too busy being flabbergasted to return the gesture. Honestly, the kindness of this man just kept surprising him.

Gently Roman pushed the dining room doors open, revealing his parents and king Thomas already seated… And, strangely enough, general Isolda standing next to his father’s seat.

“There the two lovebirds are!” King Thomas smiled as Roman and Patton entered the dining room. “We thought we would have to start without you!”

“So sorry,” Roman quickly said. “I was showing Patton the library and lost track of time-!”

“Oh, not to worry,” His mother said. “Love is distracting, after all!” She daintily chuckled, but the look she threw Roman over the rim of her wineglass was a silent warning. Don’t let it happen again. Roman anxiously swallowed and gave the barest hint of a nod.

“Well, now that you’ve made it,” His father said. “We have some great news for you!” The king gestured to general Isolda. “We have discussed it today, and the general is dispatching a group of knights to search the mountains for Remus.”

In shock Roman looked at the general. The woman didn’t look very happy about the whole situation, but he supposed he couldn’t blame her. Still he couldn’t beat down the pure hope that flared up in his chest. Carefully he placed the books he still carried down on the dining table.

“Really?” Roman walked up to the general. “You’re going to look for my brother?”

General Isolda’s eyes flicked towards the king for the barest second, before looking back to Roman’s hopeful face.

“Of course,” She said, straining a small smile. “I will… Put my best knights on the task.”

Roman couldn’t hold back the beaming grin breaking out on his face even if he tried.

“Thank you!” He said sincerely. “Thank you so much!”

“Don’t thank me just yet…” The general muttered under her breath, but Roman didn’t hear her. Instead he ran to Patton, who eagerly accepted the grandiose embrace Roman swept him in.

“That’s settled then,” The king nodded satisfied. “The knights will leave tomorrow at the first break of dawn. General, dismissed.”

That Friday Roman and Patton spend their afternoon once again in the company of the sober librarian and the sarcastic sorcerer. Laughter filled the air, but Roman couldn’t help it; his thoughts kept drifting to the knights that were sent into the mountains. Would they have found anything by now?

He hoped so…

A week passed. Roman assured himself that a week was too soon to expect news; he just needed to be more patient.

Patton left with the promise of returning soon, he just needed to work things out with the university. Patton blew him kisses out of the carriage window, which Roman pretended to catch out of the air and pressed to his lips. Numbly he watched as the carriage disappeared over the horizon. Not for the first time he wished that he could attend university as well. His parents had unfortunately always been dismissive of that idea.

Life went back to its regular schedule. No more Patton meant no more visits to the library to laugh and joke with his newfound friends, and no more lazily spent afternoons. The days ticked away in a haze of lessons, responsibilities and court meetings. On the days he spent with his old friends he was quiet and somber, mostly looking out of the window to see if he spotted anything on the horizon yet.

Outside the castle the leafs started turning orange. The farmers started bringing in the crops. The air grew crisp and vagrant.

“Any news?”

“None, your Highness.”

“Any news?” Roman asked.

“No, sweetie…” With a mournful smile, his mother rubbed his shoulder.

“Oh… Maybe tomorrow?”

“Roman, maybe you need to prepare yourself for… The worst possible outcome?”

“No! I couldn’t! He’s not-! They’re not-!”

“Roman, please,” His mother grasped both of his shoulders. “You’re not a child anymore. You can’t keep on denying that there might not be a… Happy ending to this.”

“I won’t stop hoping! I won’t!”

A month passed before Patton could visit again. His stay was filled with joy, more days spent at the library than Roman had ever done for his studies and lasted way too short for anyone’s liking. Before he knew it, Patton’s carriage disappeared behind the horizon again, leaving Roman alone with the ever-growing void in his chest.

“Any news?”

“No, your Highness.”

“Any news?” Roman asked.

“No son,” His father answered. He shook his head with a wistful look. “What a pity… So many young lives, leaving families and promising futures behind…”

Roman swallowed guiltily, and focused on his dinner.

“…Any news?” Roman quietly asked. He had asked for almost every single day now for the past weeks.

Perhaps today would be good news.

General Isolda however only shook her head sadly.

He stopped asking.

Like the falling leafs the days passed. The air quickly grew colder and colder by the day and before Roman knew it, he woke up to find the outside world had turned completely white overnight. He didn’t quite know how long he stared at the snow outside that morning. He only knew that despite his warm bedchamber, his insides felt as frigid as the ice that covered the grounds.

When Roman finally left his chambers, he had a large smile plastered on his face. He greeted everyone jovially, joked and laughed. His parents told him at breakfast that they were glad to see him in good spirits again. Well, how could he not be glad? Patton was a visitor once more, and he was able to stay to celebrate Winter Solstice and the New Year with him! What could possibly be better than that?

In fact, that afternoon he convinced his three friends to take a walk through the snowy gardens.

“Isn’t it great to be outside the library for once?” He merrily sang out. He inhaled deeply. “Aaah, smell that crisply clean air! Oh, and I do believe I smell that the kitchens are making beer stew and glühwein for tonight’s dinner! Aren’t we lucky?”

He turned and threw his arms wide, beaming at his companions. Logan barely heard him over his chattering teeth. He was buried in so many scarfs that you only saw his fogged up glasses. Virgil and Patton however only exchanged an uneasy look.

“W-W-Why did I let you convince me about this again…?” Logan’s muffled voice came from the pile of scarfs.

“Because it is fun! We could build a snowman, or have a snowball fight, or make some snow angels-!” Roman summed up. “We might even go sledding outside the castle walls! How about it, my cold comrades?”

“Roman,” Patton said tenderly, as he grasped Roman’s hands. “Roman, honey. What’s wrong?”

“Wrong?” Roman chuckled. “There’s nothing wrong! In fact, I have a great idea! How about the four of us go ice-skating on the moat, wouldn’t that be-”

“Roman…” Patton folded his hands together under his chin, his wide eyes turning pleading and shining. Roman grimaced.

“Pat, please no- Not the puppy eyes, you know I can’t say no to the puppy eyes!”

“Then please tell me what’s wrong…?”

“Nothing! I promise! I just-” Patton’s lip began to wobble slightly. “Noooooooo, sweetie! Don’t do that to my poor heart!”

“Pat’s right,” Virgil spoke up. “You’ve been acting all… Forced happy-go-lucky and shit today.”

“Language!” Patton said sternly, momentarily dropping the puppy eyes to frown at Virgil. The sorcerer only focused on Roman though.

“Seriously princey,” He said. “We’re all worried here. Spill.”

Roman hesitantly looked between his friends, all three of them showing mirror expressions of concern. Guiltily he glanced down at his feet, his hands nervously rubbing together. The moments ticked by as the three friends patiently waited for their prince to say something.

“…Six months have passed.” Roman finally muttered.

“Yes, that is generally how the passage of time works.” Logan said. Virgil discretely elbowed him in the side. It made Roman snort out a laugh though.

“An astute observation, my clever friend!” Roman said. The amusement faded just as quickly as it came. “But what I meant was… Six months have passed since… Since…”

“…Since Remus disappeared.” Virgil finished for him.

“And four months since a search party was send out…” Roman nodded. His throat squeezed itself shut, making the words come out strangled and shaking. “There’s still no word from them. Nothing! They’re probably… Probably-” He couldn’t say it. The word was stuck in his throat, as if he feared that the second he would say it out loud it would become reality.

“Oh honeybee…” Patton sounded heartbroken. Firmly his fiancé embraced him. Roman hardly noticed, not even when Logan soothingly started rubbing his back or when Virgil grabbed his elbow. Tremors shot through his body and his breathing was shallow.

“Princey,” Virgil said. “You’re panicking.”

“It’s all my fault,” Roman said shakily.

“This is not your fault!” Patton protested.

“I was the one who wanted a search party! What have I done?”

“Roman, listen to me,” Virgil’s gravely voice cut through the rushing in his ears. “Breathe with me. Four seconds in, hold for seven, breathe out for eight. Can you do that? Follow the rhythm.”

Virgil’s fingers gently tapped out the rhythm against his elbow. Roman tried his best to follow the soft beats with his breathing. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, surrounded by people he loved so much it ached sometimes, but eventually his breathing evened out. The silence stretched out for a few more minutes.

“You are not to blame for what happened, Roman,” Logan eventually said. “You could have not predicted that this would happen.”

“But they sacrificed themselves because I-!”

BOOM!!!

Screams of surprise left the four men all at once. The little group jumped even closer together then before. Virgil’s eyes immediately transformed to purple, Logan grabbed Roman’s back in a tight hold, and Patton squeezed Roman’s waist so tightly that Roman could barely breathe. Adrenaline coursed through Roman’s veins and his heart beat painfully fast. What was that? Was it thunder? No, the skies were clear.

“What on earth was that?” Patton squeaked. Roman could only answer with a shake of his head, wildly looking around for the source of the noise. From everywhere people trickled outside, confused and scared sounds filling the air.

“What was that-?”

“-Too loud for thunder-”

“Are we under attack-?”

“Where did it come from-?”

“We should lock up the castle’s gate-!”

Through the growing crowd Roman saw his father hurrying outside, making his way to the front castle’s wall. On a whim Roman freed himself from the impromptu group hug and walked after him.

As the king climbed up the stairs to the ramparts, Roman quickly ran up as well. If he had looked behind him, he would have seen that Patton, Logan and Virgil followed right behind him.

“What happened?” He heard his father ask.

“Not sure, your Majesty,” General Isolda answered while she handed the king a spyglass. “But we know where the explosion came from. Look.”

The general pointed to the distance, and Roman followed everyone’s gaze.

A mushroom cloud had formed, right above a peak of the Desolate Mountains. It looked rather tiny, but Roman knew it had to be enormous to be even seen from this faraway. “What the fuck…?” Virgil said behind him, and Roman couldn’t agree more.

“It must have been something big, seeing as the sound carried all the way to here,” The general continued while the king inspected the cloud through the spyglass. “We can not know for certain what caused it unless we send knights to inspect-”

“No need,” King Augusto lowered the spyglass. “Obviously it was just a minor volcanic explosion,” He said with a light smile. “We’ll send troops to nearby towns to see if the blast caused damage to their homes-”

“Falsehood.” Logan said. The king froze, before he slowly turned to Logan.

“What did you say there, son?” The king asked in a low voice.

“Falsehood,” Logan repeated, master of Not Seeing Big Red Warning Flags. “We don’t have active volcanoes in the area, and even if that was a volcanic explosion, the cloud would be black because of the ashes. Also I’m not your son. Furthermore-”

His explanation was cut short, because Virgil punched Logan hard enough in the stomach to cut him off. As Logan doubled over in pain, Virgil grabbed him in a headlock and covered his mouth.

“Yep! Volcanoes! That’s definitely what’s going on!” Virgil laughed strenuously. “Very good thinking, your Majesty! Don’t mind my friend, he has a bit of a fever!” Virgil began dragging Logan away, who was making protesting noises behind Virgil’s hand. “We will be preparing an anti-volcano protocol now! A good day, my king!”

King Augusto scowled after the pair, before he noticed Roman standing at battlements, still staring at the cloud.

“Roman.” He said.

“Yes…?” Roman answered absent-mindedly.

“Go check to see if your mother is alright. I have to discuss sending out knights to the towns near the mountains.”

Reluctantly Roman tore his gaze away from the mountains to go inside with Patton in tow, leaving king Augusto to calm the large mass of people still at the foot of the castle walls.

As the crowd slowly started to trickle down and went back inside, many of them fleeing back to their warm chambers and fireplaces, Virgil lingered behind on the snowy ramparts. He squinted suspiciously at the distant peaks of the Desolate Mountains and the fading mushroom cloud, as if an answer would present itself if he just glared hard enough.

“I don’t know what you’re planning, you snake,” He hissed softly. “But it won’t work. I won’t allow it!”

No answer came but the ice-cold wind picking up, sending shivers down Virgil’s spine.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #ts remus #ts roman #ts patton #ts logan #this chapter got way out of hand

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monstersandmaw · 5 years

Text

Poodle the Gnoll... (sfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

So, @thecriticalcanuck has been patiently trying to get a commission off me for months for this story, and I finally had the chance to do it, so here it is.

We’ve met ‘Poodle’ before, in a snippet where he sat chatting with his friend beside a river which I can’t seem to find any more :( , and in a series of asks/idea-bouncing sessions which you can read by following the 'fluffy gnoll’ tag linked.

This story features a male gnoll, nicknamed ‘Poodle’, who ranks absolutely at the bottom of his clan because of his ridiculously fluffy coat. Humans coo over him, gnolls laugh at him and abuse him, and he has only one friend in the whole world, a mid-ranking female gnoll.

I used my previous headcanons about gnolls and their society for this one (based off hyena society), in case anyone’s curious about the social dynamics and roles etc.

Length: 3337 words Content: bullying and abuse, both verbal and physical, young orphaned child, angst, and, well, fluff.

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

“Oi, Poodle!”

The shout rang out but he barely had time to flinch before a pail of freezing river muck was upended over his head. The fur, which had been standing wildly on end in the stiff wind blasting across the hunting plains, became plastered to his head in seconds, and the yipping, wheezing laughter of the other gnolls carried a long way across the whispering grasses. The commotion drew a small crowd, and his heart sank. Here we go again.

He cursed as the foul slime dripped down his face and into his bright, golden eyes.

“That’s hilarious! Look at him!” one of them snickered, shoving the distracted, muddy gnoll over so that he landed hard on his hip, causing more laughter.

“Hey, you could use all that shit to style that fluff of yours, Poodle,” another sneered. “Give yourself a nice quiff or something!”

“Yeah, slick it back off your face. Show all the girls those pretty eyes…”

“Or don’t! Who’d want to look at you?”

The group of four females and one male paced and circled around him as though he were a wounded satyr as he rubbed the mud from his face. He bit back the habitual hurt that blossomed in his chest at their words.

He was used to it.

He’d always had a coat that was three times thicker and fluffier than any other gnoll, and, being a male, he ranked lower than any female in the clan, and because of his looks, he fell below all of the other males. It didn’t matter that he was damned handy with a war axe. Outside of a raiding party, he was bottom of the pile, and even during a fight he ranked pretty low.

“Get up,” a harsh female voice snapped, and as she joined the hooting and guffawing gnolls, she cuffed him around the ear so hard he saw stars. “For fuck’s sake, look at you. Go and bathe. We have to go into town and I won’t have you stinking like the back end of a minotaur.”

He sighed. “Yes mother.”

“‘Yes mother’,” the others all parroted, still snickering.

The high-ranking female only shook her head in disgust at the sight of her son and stalked away as he pushed himself up onto his hind legs and shuffled off towards the winding, fast-flowing brook to wash himself off. And of course, the torment didn’t end with that single bucket of sludge.

Herah and her best friend, Zila, were apparently not satisfied with simply messing up his coat, and followed him down to the freezing water. He was struggling to rinse the disgusting slime out of his thick fur as they trotted the last few yards over to him and pounced on him while he had his head under.

“Wash it out well and good, Poodle,” Herah snarled in his ear as she yanked him back up, sputtering and coughing.

“No one’s going to groom you, Poodle. But we’re gracious females. We’ll offer our help…” Zila added, placing her paw-like hand on the top of his head and dunking him again.

Water rushed into his open mouth and he began to cough and struggle, but Herah was huge. As the daughter of the clan’s lead female, she was built for brute strength, and there was no arguing with her. She and Zila were his chief tormentors.

Beneath all the fur, he was a lithe, muscular gnoll, and might even have been an attractive prospect for one of the females, but because of his stupid pelt, he’d never attracted anything but derision and ridicule from the females, save for one.

Herah and Zila soon grew bored with ‘washing their little puppy’ and had left him, bedraggled and gasping on the riverbank. By the time his thick, wet fur dried off, he’d be even fluffier than he had been before all this started, and from the howls and shrieks of laughter and the looks on the bullies’ faces as he approached to the camp, that had been their plan all along.

Kira trotted over to him just as he returned, somewhat shakily, to the encampment and gave him an affectionate noogie on the top of his head. She was taller than him, but not by much. “What’s up?” she said. “What happened?”

He shrugged. “The usual.”

“You get ‘Poodled’ again?” she asked, ears flicking softly.

He nodded.

“Come on, a group of us is going into town. Your mum has some things she wants to trade, and I want to talk to the blacksmith to see if I can get a new axe. You want to come with me?”

“Mother says I have to come anyway. Normally she shuts me away in her tent when she has to go, so I don’t know why I’m coming along this time. Maybe she thinks a bit of light relief among the clan while the humans coo over me will be good for morale…”

Kira punched him on the arm. “Don’t let them get to you.”

“Easy for you to say,” he snarled, lifting his lip slightly in a gesture that would never have been tolerated amongst the other females. His best - and only - friend merely laughed and slung an arm around him, nuzzling her wet, blunt nose into his ear and eliciting a high, silly laugh from him in response.

As he’d predicted, the harsh prairie winds whipped his soft fur up into a mass of dandelion fluff by the time the small contingent arrived at the nearest town. Ordinarily, the arrival of eight or so gnolls at a human settlement would have sparked panic, but this clan was known here, and had agreed not to raid the inhabitants, in exchange for the right to trade and some degree of protection for them from other neighbouring clans.

The two friends followed the rest of the group into the backwater town, and while his mother and a few of the other high ranking females took themselves off to barter for better weapons from the blacksmith, the pair waited by the fountain at the centre of the town. Hierarchy was everything, and, whether at war or trade, the elite got the first pick of everything.

Lingering in the shadows, two females were watching him and occasionally yipping and laughing. He kept one large, rounded ear locked onto them, listening as they gossipped amongst themselves.

“They’re doing it again,” he muttered softly to Zila out of the side of his mouth.

“What?”

“Herah and Zila… they’re making bets on how long it’ll take for a human to coo at me.”

“Oh fuck them,” she growled, but no sooner had she said it than a pair of human women began pointing at him and covering their mouths in a poorly veiled attempt at hiding their giggles.

He flicked a piece of gravel into the well and turned away.

As he turned, he caught sight of a human girl in a ragged, faded dress, with bare feet and dirty hair. Something lurched in his chest at the sight of someone so vulnerable wandering around on her own. The other gnolls spotted her a second later.

They dropped to all fours and began to whoop and yip as they advanced. He didn’t think they’d actually hurt her, but the look on her face told him that she didn’t know that. He’d been in that girl’s position before. He knew what it felt like to have two full-grown females advancing on him, licking their teeth and laughing softly.

Instinctively he made a step towards them but Kira grabbed his arm. “Leave it,” she warned. “It’s not worth it, and they’ll tear you to pieces. You’re not protected by the treaty; she is.”

“I don’t care,” he said, yanking his arm free. “It’s wrong. They can pick on me all they like, but she’s…” he choked a little. “She’s just a kid, Kira.”

Kira’s face softened, and he made a split second decision.

Dropping to all fours too, he trotted over to them and circled round in front of the advancing females and behind the girl. He sat down beside her like a huge guard dog, ignoring the way it instantly demeaned himself further in their eyes, and stared straight at the females.

Taken by surprise by his gesture of absolute defiance, they drew up short. “What’s this, Poodle?” Herah asked in a soft, dangerous drawl. He fought off a shudder of fear.

The little girl heard the nickname, however, and giggled, all fear forgotten. “Poodle!” she exclaimed and grabbed hold of his arm, hugging him and pressing her mud-smeared cheek against the soft fur and snuggling him. “Poodle,” she repeated, almost like a prayer.

The gesture sent something soft and protective shivering through him in a way he’d never experienced before. Male gnolls were fairly well known for being the broody, protective ones, while the females were aggressive, warmongering protectors, but he’d never felt anything like that; no desire to mate, no desire to raise a brood of pups, and yet, confronted with this small, helpless human who found his fur a source of comfort instead of ridicule, he felt that feeling surge in him. He blinked, fighting the unexpected prickle of tears. It was a brotherly, even paternal, kind of protection that he’d never experienced, and it lent him strength.

He stared the females down hard. On this, he would not back down. “Pick on someone your own size,” he growled. “There’s no sport to be had here.”

“Well, well.” Herah lowered herself down slowly onto her haunches and tilted her head, smiling humorlessly, and her friend, Zila, took a step closer to him, lips curled, canines showing.

“Careful, Poodle,” she crooned in a low voice. “You’re courting more than just ordinary trouble if you keep this up.”

The little girl let go of him and, putting herself between the two gnolls, she crossed her arms across her chest, pouting and staring up at the female. “Leave Poodle alone,” she squeaked. “He’s a nice friend.”

Herah burst out laughing so hard she toppled over sideways, one hind leg kicking. “Oh my fuck,” she swore. “That’s precious. That’s so fucking precious. You just got told off by a fucking human pup, Zila!”

Zila took exception to that and launched herself at her friend, and the two began to scrap in a cloud of snarls and dust.

Taking the opportunity, he stood up and took a step away. Halting suddenly, he glanced down at the little girl and saw her wide eyes staring up at him. A heartbeat later he found himself saying, “Come on. Let’s leave them to it.”

Before he could turn and walk away, she slid her hand into his leathery palm and squeezed her fingers around his index finger. Tears swam in his eyes but he swallowed them down and led her quietly away from the fighting females.

Kira stood by the fountain still, her ears pricked forwards and a dumbstruck look on her face, but she was no longer alone; she’d been joined by a male human.

“Getting yourself into trouble again, I see, Elsie…” he chuckled at the child. “Ah, it’s a shame she’s got no one to look out for her.”

“What?” the gnoll asked, his grip tightening on her hand slightly.

The man nodded. “Yeah,” he said heavily. “She’s nearly four years old, but her folks died a little while back and she just sort of… drifts from home to home. No one has the time or the funds to support her really.”

Kira turned her head as the group of females left the blacksmith’s, and she said, “They’ve finished. Come on, let’s go. Leave her…”

He shook his head. “You want to come with us?” he asked, and Elsie nodded.

“I love Garrett!” she giggled. “He gives me cookies sometimes.”

The fighting gnolls gave a snarl and the child cowered slightly, scuttling around to his other side.

“You can’t keep her,” Kira hissed.

“I know,” he retorted. “But while they’re there, I can’t just…”

His friend sighed. “You’re too gentle, sweetheart,” she said.

The blacksmith’s was empty in the wake of the small trading party, but the half-orc was still standing there and watching their approach from his doorway. “Well, well, Elsie,” he said when he saw the three of them. “You’ve charmed yourself a new friend, have you?”

“Poodle is my friend,” she said proudly, and, embarrassed, his rounded ears swivelled back to lie flat against his fluffy head.

“Poodle, eh?” the blacksmith chuckled, looking the gnoll up and down. “Well, I’ve met stranger folk than you. What can I do for you?”

While Kira headed off with Garrett to look at the remaining selection of war-axes, Elsie reached her hands up and demanded, “Pick me up, Poodle!”

He swallowed thickly. How could something so defenceless and so… so useless be so… endearing. Was this what it felt like to be a ‘proper’ male in the clan? To have his protective and nurturing instincts toyed with by the innocence of little ones? Acting on those instincts, he stooped and picked her up, settling her down on his hip and letting her sink her fingers into the thick fur of his mane. He was wearing his usual leather jerkin, but her explorative hands reached for his curved, sensitive ears, and she laughed wildly when he flicked one out of her tickling fingertips. He found a little smile on his own muzzle, and her hands then found that, and began to play with the soft, fuzzy velvet of his dark nose and lips, poking and pulling at him.

“Stop that, you pesky little scrap,” he chuckled as she yanked his ear again.

Kira returned a while later to find him sitting with her in his lap on the floor at the foot of an anvil, whittling a little dog out of a spare piece of kindling with his belt knife. It wasn’t a whittling knife, so it wasn’t the cleanest of sculptures, but her friend had always had an artistic flare.

She paused and watched him until he eventually looked up at her. Kira took half a step back at the look on his face. She’d never seen him look like that. Gone was the haunted look, the hunted, jumpy glances, the humiliation and torment. He looked soft and sweet, and truly happy. She swallowed the lump in her throat and sighed. Her own female urge to protect her friend suddenly intensified.

As if responding to that, he tilted his head and whined a wordless question at her.

She smiled and shook her head. “What are you making?” she asked, coming over and adding, “Mind if I sit too?”

Garrett looked out of the doorway into his workshop but didn’t interfere. The half-orc left them to it, pleased that Elsie was finally getting some attention.

“I’m making her a little poodle,” he said.

Kira leaned her cheek against his shoulder and murmured, “You could leave, you know?”

He stiffened at that, the knife falling quiet in his hands. He drew a deep breath and then let it go gently. Elsie was looking at the half-formed sculpture that lay across his palm and started to fiddle with it, her fingertips tracing the outline of the figurine. Then she yawned openly. “I could,” he said. “But… you mean, with her? Fuck, Kira, I’m a nobody. What would I do with a child? I don’t know how to raise a gnoll, let alone a human.”

Kira shrugged. “I think you’d do alright. You’ve got the empathy, you know. I think you’re the first person who’s really understood her. Or maybe she’s the first person who’s really understood you…”

He looked up at her and blinked. “Come on,” he murmured. “You get me…”

She nuzzled his ear the way he liked. “Mostly, but… I’ve never been alone the way you have. I’m a female. I have rank -”

“Despite hanging around with me,” he joked.

Kira didn’t laugh. “Yeah. And that sucks. Your parents have practically disowned you, you’re the clan’s whipping boy, and you’re miserable. Think about it… alright?”

Elsie sighed and he felt her weight sink against his chest. She yawned again and leaned further into the warmth of his body. He murmured her name, but she was closing her eyes already. “No, no, no,” he said. “Don’t…”

He looked up and found that Garrett had returned, clearly wanting the use of his forge back.

“Where does she live?” he asked, keeping his rough voice low and quiet.

“She sleeps at the temple,” he said. “The priestess takes care of her mostly. When she’s got time…”

“I’ll take her back then.”

Kira took the half-finished figurine from him and slipped his belt knife back into the sheath for him, and he stood carefully. The action slightly dislodged Elsie, but she shuffled and clung to him. He looked up at Kira and said, “I… I can’t…”

“C’mon,” she said, nodding a grateful farewell at Garrett, who returned the gesture and watched the strange trio leave his workshop and head towards the temple at the far end of the town. Kira looked at the way he held her and said, “Buddy, you’re a natural at this. They missed a trick back at the clan with you…”

He smiled. “I’ve never… I mean…” he swallowed.

“Playing house, Poodle?” a shout rang out across the street, and he froze, tail stiffening. “Happy families?”

Herah and Zila were stalking down the road, and they’d gathered a few of the others too.

Kira braced herself beside her best friend, and Elsie stirred in his arms, waking as the tension rolled through the group. “Poodle?” she murmured.

“Shh, it’s alright,” he said gently. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

With the innocent faith of a small child, she believed him and turned her face from the others, burying it in the thick mane around his neck.

“No gnoll wants to mate with you,” Zila jeered, “Not even Kira here, so you’ll, what, steal a human child?”

“It’s not even stealing,” Herah cackled. “They told me that one wants that one. He’s literally just picking up the trash.”

Something snapped in him then and, unthinkingly, he handed Elsie to Kira. His lips curled back and his hackles rose. “Say that again and I will kill you,” he said. “I mean it.”

His hand found the haft of his axe and he shifted the weight of it, ready.

Herah actually faltered. They’d seen the way males could get when defending the pups, but admittedly, that was over gnoll pups; clan pups. This was new for them.

Kira murmured something softly to him and he twitched his ear. “What?”

“Leave it. It’s not worth it. If you get hurt, you won’t be able to see the priestess and ask if you can take care of her.”

The steady gaze and sound advice of his life-long best friend filtered slowly through the pounding rage in his skull and he finally nodded curtly, returning the axe to its holster. Elsie was nervous, her eyes wide, but he took her gently back from Kira and turned to Herah.

“I’m leaving.”

He turned his back on his clan, the folks who had made his life a misery, and, with one final look at Kira, one final smile, he added, “Thank you.”

“I love you,” she said. “Take care of yourself, and her, alright? Don’t vanish forever…”

“I promise.”

With his back to the red disk of the setting sun, he made his way to the temple. The priestess was more than happy for him to take the child, deciding that she’d rather keep the temple offerings to feed her own habits than feed the girl, and he continued on his way out of the other side of the village into the quiet evening.

“Poodle?” she asked sleepily. “Where are we going?”

“You know that’s not my name, little one?” he chuckled fondly as she yawned, settling herself more comfortably into his arms.

“What’s your name?”

As the sun sank below the hills, he paused. Turning into the very last rays of red light, he looked back. “Aten. My name is Aten.”

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If you like gnolls, you can read Brenn’s story here: Male gnoll/hyena boy (Brenn) x female reader Part One (nsfw) Part Two (sfw ish) Part Three (sfw) Part Four (nsfw) Part Five (nsfw) Part Six/Epilogue (sfw)

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#exophilia #gnoll #sfw story #male gnoll #female gnoll #angst #fluff #exophilia commission

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